Chapter 29

Lin Yu didn't press further. She nodded at Yu Jia to acknowledge the news, then instinctively headed upstairs. Zhang Yulin followed Lin Yu as she left, leaving only Zhou Yu downstairs.

Yu Jia was about to leave as well when Zhou Yu, who had been trailing behind, sidled up to him with ill intent. A flicker of unease crossed Yu Jia's mind.

Zhou Yu's eyes squinted into a slit with a smile: "Well, well, if it isn't the Imperial Preceptor himself. Long time no see—how have you been?"

Yu Jia shot him a glance: "Spit it out."

Zhou Yu's smile turned ingratiating: "Lend me a bit of your cultivation, would you?"

Yu Jia's face went blank: "...Get lost." With that, he made to leave, but Zhou Yu scurried ahead to block his path.

Zhou Yu: "Aren't you going to ask what we ran into, why we exhausted all our power?"

That finally piqued Yu Jia's interest. He stopped: "Speak."

Having resolved such a major problem as the wandering souls, Zhou Yu was eager to broadcast it far and wide. "We took care of the wandering souls mentioned in the ancient records!"

Yu Jia furrowed his brows: "Wandering souls?"

Zhou Yu: "No need to worship me too much. A matter this big—I'll have it written into my epitaph so future disciples of Heaven's Mandate Tower can come pay their respects."

Yu Jia: "Were they hurt?" He meant Lin Yu and Zhang Yulin.

Zhou Yu was momentarily puzzled, wondering at how Yu Jia's thoughts seemed to jump around. He answered instinctively, "Probably..."

Zhou Yu didn't know the extent of Lin Yu and Zhang Yulin's injuries, but as the senior disciple of Heaven's Mandate Tower who had expended all his power and gone into hiding, he figured those two junior sisters must have been hurt too if they'd been showing off.

Hearing that both were injured, Yu Jia shot Zhou Yu a glare, left a parting remark—"Watch your head."—and took off in the direction Lin Yu and Zhang Yulin had gone.

Zhou Yu scratched his head, baffled by Yu Jia's meaning, and called after his retreating back: "Why?"

Yu Jia: "Because tomorrow, your head might not still be on your neck."

Zhou Yu: ?

...

Lin Yu pushed open the door to Fu Ming's room. Most of the candles inside had burned low, leaving only two small flames barely illuminating one corner.

Lin Yu seemed already used to coming and going freely in Fu Ming's space. She walked straight in. Fu Ming was bent over the desk, his back to Lin Yu—from this angle, she couldn't see what he was doing.

She could only make out that his outer robe hung loosely over his shoulders, the hem embroidered with dark gold patterns trailing onto the floor. The dancing candlelight fell on him softly, lending him an unexpectedly gentle air. Lin Yu walked over to stand beside him.

Only then did she see clearly that Fu Ming was holding a fine round piece of jade, his long, slender fingers gripping a carving knife as he carefully traced the pattern along the stone.

Sensing Lin Yu's arrival, he shifted slightly to the side without a word, making room for her, and the two sat down side by side at the desk.

Fu Ming set down the carving knife and raised his eyes to study Lin Yu. He asked casually, "Killed anyone?"

Lin Yu suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She blinked rapidly: "No."

Lin Yu: "The Imperial Preceptor said you were attacked?"

Fu Ming looked at Lin Yu, and only then did he notice she was staring straight at him too.

"An attack... not exactly, I'd say..."

Fu Ming's gaze shifted back to the knife in his hand and the jade he was carving, his thoughts drifting back to the dungeon the day before.

Last night, the Mingzhao Guard had come under attack and sent out a distress signal. Fu Ming led troops to the rescue.

When Fu Ming arrived, the Mingzhao Guard was surrounded by several hundred assailants. Fu Ming's men sealed them off, yet the mob was so brazen they didn't stop even with imperial troops on the scene. Fu Ming had the most vociferous among them killed outright. With their ringleaders dead, the remaining bandits quickly surrendered.

By dawn, the raiders who had attacked the Mingzhao Guard and the villagers who had assisted in the ambush were all subdued and thrown into the dungeon.

The Mingzhao Guard reported that after dealing with the bandits, they had indeed discovered a hidden workshop for counterfeiting gold and silver in a village not far from the ambush site, confiscating a massive haul of false treasure.

From the workshop, they had also captured over a hundred people who had been hiding. The case involved over a thousand people and a massive counterfeiting operation, and the timing of the incident was suspicious. So after wrapping things up, Fu Ming went to interrogate the prisoners personally.

The warden had already briefed Fu Ming on the general situation. Excluding those killed on the spot, the raiders totaled three hundred and twelve. Over three hundred were caught in the workshop, and more than nine hundred villagers were arrested in the surrounding area.

Nearly all the raiders possessed formidable martial skill, and at least a dozen seemed to be cultivators.

This was no simple case. To command such a force of skilled individuals, the one behind it all was no ordinary threat.

As Fu Ming walked through the dungeon, he passed cell after cell holding those involved in the case, their hands and feet shackled, all packed together.

Past the cluttered cells, Fu Ming saw four people in the torture chamber strapped to racks, their bodies drenched, heads hanging low, prison clothes stained red—a sight that struck the eye with chilling force.

The warden, frowning, said to the jailers, "Take them down. Bring in the next batch for questioning."

A jailer was about to unlock the prisoners' shackles when he caught a glimpse of a dark, brocaded figure in the distance.

The jailer froze, then threw himself to his knees: "Your Majesty!"

At his cry, the other jailers and guards in the room dropped to their knees in a wave.

The newcomer's robes fluttered as he strode quickly into the cramped torture chamber. The warden also knelt hastily, pressing his forehead to the ground: "Your Majesty... your servant is incompetent. This batch has very tight lips. We've tried every torture, and they'd rather die than reveal who's behind them..."

"Your servant will have others brought in for questioning—with so many prisoners, someone's bound to crack and confess." The warden's face went pale as he spoke, terrified that Fu Ming might be displeased and strip him of his office.

Fu Ming sat to the side, chin propped on his hand, surveying the four figures strapped to the racks. Their faces were deathly pale, drained of all blood. Two of them were on the verge of fainting from the torture, eyes squeezed shut, barely breathing.

Fu Ming found it rather amusing. He'd seen plenty of people who'd rather die than talk; it just meant the torture wasn't harsh enough to make them confess. He curled his lips into a faint, barely perceptible smile: "No need. Keep questioning them."

With that, Fu Ming glanced at the guard behind him, who immediately understood.

The guard ordered the men behind him: "Bring out the instruments."

Soon, a pot of molten iron was carried in. The prisoners on the racks turned even whiter at the sight of it.

Fu Ming's expression remained gentle, but his words carried a chill: "Since you refuse to speak, your mouths are of no use anyway, are they?" With that, he raised a hand slightly. "Do it."

The jailers obeyed, seizing one of the still-conscious prisoners. The man's eyes bulged in terror. A jailer held his head still, pried open his mouth with a steel bar, and prepared to pour the searing iron down his throat!

The iron hissed with heat, the air around it warping. If that molten metal went down, it would mean far more than just losing the power of speech!

The warden wiped cold sweat from his brow and edged away from the pot.

As the ladle of molten iron drew near, its scalding steam washed over the prisoner's face. He burst into tears, eyes splitting wide as he thrashed violently, shackles clanging, and shouted in a muffled voice: "I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Fu Ming raised a hand, and the jailers removed the steel bar. The prisoner gasped for air in great gulps.

"There are merchants... merchants in collusion. They built an underground workshop in the south of the city to forge counterfeit copper coins! Yesterday my brothers and I were keeping watch outside when we suddenly saw imperial soldiers show up. Counterfeiting ends in execution of the whole family anyway, so we figured we might as well go all out—that's why we attacked the imperial troops..."

"We were forced into this... I have a wife and children at home. Before I started counterfeiting, I hadn't seen a copper coin in months! Not a single one! All the gold and silver is held by the rich merchants. The kids at home cried from hunger, and without money, how were common folk like us supposed to survive?! No one had any silver to spend, so the only choice was to go into counterfeiting. What did we do wrong?"

The prisoner poured out all of this in one breath, and having endured so much torture, he was nearly spent by the time he finished.

Fu Ming frowned. Jiangnan was the most prosperous region outside the Imperial City—how could the common folk have no money to spend and be driven to counterfeiting because they couldn't earn a living?

Fu Ming turned to the warden, his gaze scrutinizing the man.

The warden's legs gave way in fear and he thudded to his knees again: "Your Majesty, I can't speak for others, but the salaries of my subordinates have always been paid on time. There's no way any of us were driven to counterfeiting by poverty! They're just making excuses for their treason!"

Another prisoner, whose eyes had been shut all along, interjected, his voice very weak: "You people who eat the emperor's grain are different, of course..."

"The common folk have no money and are forced to offer their silver to the Rain Goddess. The rich don't circulate their wealth in the market—what are we supposed to do..."

Fu Ming: "Who's behind this? Who started it?"

Interrogation is like that—once someone lets a sliver slip, the dam cracks, and what follows comes easily. Another man opened his mouth: "It was..."

In that instant, a silver-white needle shot into the prisoner's brow!

Silencing him!

Fu Ming shot to his feet, his gaze snapping toward the direction the needle had come from!

The needles had flown in through the small ventilation window at the very top of the dungeon. The guards drew their swords in alarm, scanning the area, while the shadow guards rushed outside in pursuit. Just then, more needles came streaking into the dungeon!

Fu Ming summoned Qingxian in a flash and deflected several needles with the blade. But when the guards chased out of the dungeon, they found the perimeter sentries all dead!

...

Fu Ming's eyes flickered with a hint of emotion, his thoughts returning to the dimly lit room. He gripped the carving knife and continued working on the jade.

Lin Yu moved closer to Fu Ming: "Were you hurt?"

Fu Ming felt an inexplicable urge to tease her. He clutched his chest and pretended to wince: "Mm, I'm hurt."

Lin Yu scooted right up: "Let me see?"

The space between them nearly vanished. Fu Ming's breath hitched for a moment, and he instinctively turned his head away: "That... won't be necessary."

Lin Yu: "I'm a physician..."

Lin Yu's lashes lowered as she leaned in even closer. Fu Ming kept leaning back to dodge her, until Lin Yu suddenly asked, "You don't trust me?"

Fu Ming had nowhere left to retreat. He scrambled for an excuse: "It healed itself a few hours ago."

Afraid Lin Yu might actually try to strip his clothes off, Fu Ming pressed a hand to her shoulder and coughed lightly: "So you really didn't kill anyone?"

Lin Yu: "Of course not!"

What she'd killed were dead people, so of course that didn't count as murder. They'd already been dead before she lifted a hand!

"Speaking of killing..." Lin Yu swept her gaze over Fu Ming, confirming he really didn't look injured. "I suspect Lu Yao..."

Fu Ming suddenly asked, "Who's Lu Yao?"

Lin Yu: "...The one who sent the fake gold. The richest merchant in Jiangnan now."

Fu Ming seemed to suddenly remember, letting out an "Oh."

Lin Yu: "Did your Mingzhao Guard find out who's been forging the gold and silver?"

Fu Ming: "The workshop and everyone involved in the counterfeiting have all been captured. The fake gold and silver were seized as well." He gave Lin Yu a general rundown of what had happened in the dungeon the day before.

Fu Ming: "But we never got the person behind it to confess. The only one who knew was silenced."

Fu Ming had interrogated the rest afterward, but the ringleaders who had direct contact with the mastermind had all died the night of the siege. The only other person who knew was silenced. The trail was completely broken.

Lin Yu thought for a moment, then said, "It's true that the common folk can't earn money... but it might not be the same kind of 'can't earn money' you're thinking of. From what I observed today, the people look like they've offended the God of Wealth himself—it's that miserable."

Fu Ming didn't quite grasp what she meant, because what he'd imagined was wealthy merchants colluding, monopolizing trade, maliciously disrupting the market and oppressing the common people—the rich getting richer while the poor couldn't even get by. That was why the people were forced into counterfeiting.

Fu Ming was already thinking of convening officials after returning to the Imperial City to discuss amending the laws, reining in the merchants, and cracking down on wrongdoing in Jiangnan. But then Lin Yu said, "I mean literally can't earn money. Their luck with wealth is in the pits."

Realizing Fu Ming was overcomplicating it, Lin Yu gave up explaining and told him he'd understand in a couple of days.

Lin Yu stood up and looked at Fu Ming: "But there's one person whose luck with wealth is absurdly good, and she's connected to the source of the revived corpses. We need to pay her estate another visit."

"Your Majesty, I have urgent news." Yu Jia's voice came from outside the door.

Lin Yu glanced toward the door in confusion, then rose to open it.

"Divine Maiden, are you... injured?" Yu Jia had just gone to ask Zhang Yulin, who'd told him to get lost in a foul mood. After wandering a bit, he'd come to find Lin Yu instead.

Lin Yu: ?

Fu Ming's senses sharpened. He rose and walked toward the door. "Didn't you just say you didn't kill anyone?!"

Lin Yu looked bewildered: "Right..."

Yu Jia took the opportunity to drive the point home: "The Divine Maiden didn't kill anyone—she killed wandering souls... nearly a hundred of them..."

Fu Ming stared at Lin Yu in disbelief: "What exactly did you kill?!"