Chapter 9: If You’re A Brother, Then Let Old Zhu Come And Strike Me!
*Slap, slap, slap*—
A series of small whip lashes echoed through the Imperial Prison.
Accompanied by shouts.
“Will you talk or not! Will you talk or not! Will you talk or not!”
“What do you want him to say?! You’re hitting him so hard, and he still won’t talk?”
Zhang Biao shivered as he looked at the Imperial Guard beside him.
Then he heard that Imperial Guard grin and say, “When we Imperial Guards investigate a case, we only care about the process, not the outcome. Because the outcome is always the same, so we beat him for three days and three nights, asking him if he would talk, if he would talk.”
“Hiss—!”
Upon hearing this, Zhang Biao couldn’t help but gasp. Even Qi Tai, Lu Ping, and Zhao Qian behind him turned pale.
Although they had long heard that the Imperial Guards were brutal, seeing was believing. Old Zhu was truly the most ruthless person in the Great Ming Dynasty!
Otherwise, why would he create such a perverted organization?
“Enough, why are you telling them so much? They’ll have it tough later anyway. If we say too much, how can we have fun!?”
As if annoyed by his colleague’s big mouth, another Imperial Guard immediately stopped him.
Soon, Zhang Biao and the other three were kicked into their respective prison cells.
“Clang!”
The heavy iron door slammed shut behind them, cutting off the last trace of light from the outside world and sealing Zhang Biao’s chilling heart.
The Imperial Prison?
I’ve actually been thrown into the Imperial Prison!
Not execution by beheading, not flaying and stuffing, but languishing in jail!
And it was Old Zhu’s order, the kind involving a trial by the Three Judicial Offices!
The humid, cold air, mixed with the stench of blood, rot, and excrement, instantly flooded his nostrils, making Zhang Biao gag.
From time to time, faint sounds that made his scalp tingle reached his ears.
The environment was more immersive than any horror movie filming location he had seen in the real world.
“It’s over. We’re toast.”
Zhang Biao collapsed onto the grass, complaining endlessly, “Old Zhu, you bastard, you’re not playing fair! I actively requested VIP flaying service, so why did you throw me into the Imperial Prison? Do you think your craftsmanship is that precious, that it would get dirty?”
“What about the process? What about the promised execution by beheading? I want to go back to my air-conditioned room! I don’t want to stay here! It’s my Crazy Thursday!”
“What to do? What to do?”
He clutched his messy hair, his mind racing with thoughts: “Am I going to be stuck in this hellhole until the trial by the Three Judicial Offices ends? That’ll take ages! What if Old Zhu’s anger subsides and he exiles me three thousand miles? I wonder if suicide will let me go back! Or maybe… he’ll lock me up forever?!”
The thought of spending the rest of his life in this dark, stinking place made Zhang Biao feel unbearable pain.
“No! I have to find a way quickly!”
Zhang Biao suddenly stood up, muttering to himself, and began pacing back and forth in the small prison cell, contemplating a way out: “How about provoking the prison guards? Make them dislike me and kill me directly?”
“But what if they kill me and I can’t go back to modern times?”
“Logically, Old Zhu should still be angry with me. Having the prison guards kill me is pretty much the same as having the executioner do it… maybe.”
With this thought, Zhang Biao instantly made up his mind: “Good! That’s what I’ll do!”
He shuffled to the bars and, facing the dim corridor outside, yelled, “Where is everyone?! Where have you all gone? I’m hungry! Get me a roast chicken! From Juxian Tower! And a pot of top-grade Nu’er Hong wine!”
“Did you hear me? Are you all deaf? Don’t you believe I’ll impeach you all?! Get your Commander to come and drink with me!”
“Damn it! Is anyone breathing? Say something—!”
The outside was dead silent; only Zhang Biao’s voice echoed in the corridor.
Let alone prison guards, not even a mouse was alerted.
“Damn! So aloof?”
Zhang Biao was a bit dejected but still didn’t give up. He changed his strategy, leaned against the bars of his cell, and sang loudly: “Holding steamed corn buns in my hands~~ No oil in the dishes~~ Life in the Imperial Prison is so painful~~ The outside world is so beautiful~~ When will I return to my home~~ Ah~~ home~~~”
His off-key singing echoed through the silent Imperial Prison like a wail, reaching his grandma’s house next door.
“Shut up! Are you mourning the dead!”
A voice of unbearable rage finally came from the next cell, with a heavy accent and feebleness: “If you keep howling… I… I’ll come over and strangle you!”
Zhang Biao’s eyes lit up. He thought, “Finally, a reaction?”
“Brother! Brother next door!”
He urgently clung to the gaps in the bars, lowered his voice, and said enticingly, “Don’t you want to get out? Don’t you want freedom? I have a plan! You and I cooperate, you strangle me! Then you can say you eliminated a menace to society. How about it, a win-win!”
After hearing this, the other cell went silent for a moment, then erupted into violent coughing, accompanied by enraged curses: “Cough cough… Madman! Cough cough… You’re a madman! Stay away from me!”
“No, Brother…”
“Get lost—!”
Something unknown was thrown from the next cell, accompanied by a curse uttered with all its strength.
Zhang Biao dodged the object and dejectedly sat back on the grass pile, beginning to consider more radical plans.
“Banging my head against the wall? It looks painful, and it’s not guaranteed to be fatal. What if I’m rescued and just suffer for nothing? Besides, I don’t even know if I can return to modern times!”
“Biting my tongue to commit suicide? They say the success rate is extremely low, and it’s also incredibly painful.”
“Could it be…”
He looked up at a forty-five-degree angle – no, he looked up at the dark, dripping ceiling of the cell, with a look of utter despair: “Is it that heaven wants to destroy me, Zhang Biao?”
Just as he was losing all hope and contemplating whether to try the legendary ‘Conan-style murder method,’ a ‘tap, tap’ of footsteps approached from afar.
It wasn’t the heavy footsteps of the Imperial Guards, but more casual, even a bit… light?
A young man in a blue prison guard uniform, but noticeably cleaner and tidier than ordinary guards, carrying a food container and humming a tuneless song, sauntered to Zhang Biao’s cell door.
“New arrival? Zhang Biao?”
The young prison guard looked quite spirited, but his eyes were a bit lazy as he sized Zhang Biao up.
“What do you want?”
Zhang Biao glanced at him impatiently, then at the food container in his hand: “Bringing the last meal? Tell Old Zhu, I don’t eat it! If you’re a brother, let him come and chop off my head!”
“Pfft—”
The young prison guard chuckled, squatted down, and pushed the food container through the bars: “What are you thinking? Last meal? Commander Jiang specifically instructed that your case must be properly ‘served’ before the trial by the Three Judicial Offices, without any mistakes! Here, your food!”
With that, he opened the food container.
Zhang Biao pretended to be indifferent as he looked at the food container, then his pupils suddenly contracted as if hit by a magnitude nine earthquake!
