In the small, cramped tent, Ziqing had been bound so tightly that only her hands could move at all. From the very start, her calm, spine-chilling gaze had never once left Xuanyuan Zhaoxi — even now, utterly unable to move, that single unwavering stare alone was enough to make anyone reluctant to draw close.
Though everyone was desperately curious what this woman was actually thinking in this moment, no one dared ask. Even Xuanyuan Zhaoxi had turned her back, waiting for the instrument of torture to arrive, unwilling to meet her eyes directly any longer.
Finally, the instrument was delivered.
A malicious curve touched Xuanyuan Zhaoxi’s lips, and she asked, feigning innocence, “Now, what exactly is this?”
“Reporting to the Princess, this is a torture device unique to our Eastern Qin, called the Iron Ring. It’s fitted onto the prisoner’s ten fingers, and by pulling this chain, heh heh…”
The attendant’s grin was thoroughly wicked as he continued, “Depending on how much force is applied, the ring can crush the flesh of all ten fingers, sever the tendons of the fingers, or even crush the bones themselves entirely!”
“Is that so? What else?” Xuanyuan Zhaoxi asked, feigning great interest.
“It can also crush the finger bones outright, causing all ten finger joints above the rings to simply drop off!” the guard answered promptly.
At this, Xuanyuan Zhaoxi feigned alarm, shuddering dramatically. “How horrifying!”
“Princess, that’s not even the most terrifying part. This device has an even more dreadful use!” the attendant murmured ominously.
“There’s an even more terrifying use? My, my, how frightening indeed!” Xuanyuan Zhaoxi said, a flicker of satisfaction crossing her eyes as she slowly turned to look at Ziqing — only to find, to her shock, that Ziqing showed none of the fear she’d expected at all.
She wasn’t afraid in the slightest!
Shouldn’t she be terrified enough by now to beg for mercy? Why was she still so completely calm?
Xuanyuan Zhaoxi found herself involuntarily stepping back, struck by the sight of Ziqing’s small face — framed by disheveled hair and smeared blood — looking eerily like some demon risen straight from hell itself, while she herself suddenly felt like the one awaiting judgment.
“What is this most terrifying use, then!” she demanded, her voice suddenly sharp with fury.
“Princess, there are two truly terrible methods. The first is to slowly crush the flesh of all ten fingers first, then loosen the rings and strip away the ruined flesh entirely, exposing the bare bone, before fitting the rings back on and slowly crushing the bones to powder!”
As the attendant spoke, he couldn’t help but glance toward Ziqing — only to find her utterly unresponsive, her still, lifeless eyes reflecting nothing but Xuanyuan Zhaoxi’s own image back at her.
“And the other method!” Xuanyuan Zhaoxi demanded, nearly shouting now, not realizing that the angrier she became, the more it looked, in Ziqing’s eyes, like sheer panic.
The guard didn’t dare hesitate, answering quickly, “Princess, aside from the thumb, every finger has three joints. The other method is to start with the topmost joint and crush them one by one, working down until only the palms remain.”
Surely now — surely now, Han Ziqing would finally show fear!
And yet, the moment the guard finished speaking, Ziqing, who had remained silent all this while, suddenly let out a soft, dismissive snort.
“Han Ziqing, so proud, are you? This princess will see today just how long that pride of yours can last!” Xuanyuan Zhaoxi snapped furiously, immediately giving the order. “Bring it here — begin the punishment!”
The guards hesitated, visibly nervous — yet Ziqing, far from resisting, actually raised her arm on her own, spreading her fingers wide, offering a polite, almost courteous smile toward the guard, as if to say, “Go ahead.”
Heavens above — how could she possibly react this way?
What kind of woman was this? Even at a moment like this, this was her response? What on earth was going through her mind?
Suddenly — “clang!” — the guard’s hands trembled so badly with nerves that the iron ring device slipped and crashed to the ground.
Seeing this, Xuanyuan Zhaoxi’s seductive, delicate features twisted into something almost grotesque with fury. Rather than the triumphant satisfaction she’d craved, she found herself utterly humiliated in front of Han Ziqing instead.
“Useless wretches! Get out of my sight, all of you!” she screamed furiously, snatching up the iron ring device herself. “Han Ziqing, you’ve got nerve. If you can still hold up these precious hands of yours after this, this princess will admit you’re worthy!”
With that, she swiftly fitted all ten rings onto Ziqing’s fingers herself. The metal was undoubtedly dark-iron, extraordinarily heavy. Ziqing immediately felt the crushing weight bearing down on her ten fingers — but facing a mad dog like this, what choice did she have?
Fighting back required an opening, after all. If one had to guess what exactly this woman was thinking in this moment, it could only be this: how could she minimize the damage to herself once her fingers were gone?
That was simply who she was — she calculated the odds in everything. What could be salvaged, she pursued to its fullest, executed flawlessly. What couldn’t be helped, she refused to waste another ounce of thought or feeling on.
Would showing terror, even begging for mercy, actually make Xuanyuan Zhaoxi spare her? Impossible. She would only laugh in triumph.
Soon, all ten of Ziqing’s fingers were fitted with the dark-iron rings — Xuanyuan Zhaoxi had, without question, chosen the cruelest method available, intent on destroying her hands one joint at a time.
At that moment, Xuanyuan Zhaoxi sat before her, holding the chain, legs crossed in a display of lofty superiority. She appeared outwardly calm and composed as she held the chain — but her chest was, in fact, heaving with visible agitation.
This woman, Ziqing realized, was more nervous than she was.
Just as Xuanyuan Zhaoxi opened her mouth to speak again, Ziqing beat her to it. “Princess Zhaoxi, may I ask you a favor?”
Xuanyuan Zhaoxi’s heart leapt with delight, and she sneered coldly. “Speak, let’s hear it!”
“Princess Zhaoxi… stop wasting words. If you’re going to do it, just get on with it,” Ziqing said flatly.
The moment these words left her mouth, the entire tent fell into stunned silence. No one knew quite how long it lasted before Xuanyuan Zhaoxi erupted like a volcano, screaming furiously, “Han Ziqing, you’re asking to die!”
With that, she yanked the chain violently, and all ten iron rings snapped instantly tight!
“Han Ziqing, if this princess doesn’t make you beg for mercy today, I’ll write my own surname backward for the rest of my life!” With that, she seized a length of the chain in one hand, ready to yank it with all her strength.
But at that very moment, a wind blade shot out of nowhere — “Bang!” — striking with brutal force, snapping the chain instantly in two!
A wind blade!
It was him!
A flicker of something unusual finally crossed Ziqing’s calm eyes. She looked up toward the entrance — there stood Xuanyuan Lige, having appeared without a sound, clad in purple robes, three thousand strands of silver hair flowing, looking every bit like a god descended from the heavens.
His already pale face now carried no color at all, and in those eyes, usually cold and detached as ice, burned a rare, unmistakable fury.
Xuanyuan Zhaoxi spun around sharply, the words spilling out involuntarily. “Brother, aren’t you supposed to—”
“My hostage. Who gave you permission to torture her?” Xuanyuan Lige asked flatly.
“That wretch actually dared to stab me!” Xuanyuan Zhaoxi snapped furiously.
“Get out,” Xuanyuan Lige said, unconcerned with her reasoning at all, his tone flat and indifferent as he stepped forward.
“Imperial Brother, Mother the Empress has already handed everything here over to me. Go back and properly recover from your illness. I can—”
Before Xuanyuan Zhaoxi could finish, a wind blade suddenly grazed past her cheek. Xuanyuan Lige said nothing, simply fixing her with a cold stare. Xuanyuan Zhaoxi’s eyes narrowed sharply — she clearly couldn’t win against her own brother. With one last venomous glare at Ziqing, she swept out of the tent in a fury.