Cheng Maoming’s sword-like brows shot up, putting on a furious expression: “You bastard, are you playing us?”

The man raised his eyelids slightly but didn’t make a sound.

Cheng Maoming grabbed him by the collar, the movement pulling at his wounds. Pain made the man’s face instantly scrunch up: “His Majesty bestowed poisoned wine for Yang Zhe to prove his innocence, and Yang Zhe drank it without a moment’s hesitation. I think he’s innocent. Did you, you bastard, slander him?”

The angry interrogation made Minister Shen’s ears twitch. He thought to himself that Grand Commander Cheng was quite the actor—truly unexpected.

“Yang Zhe was given poisoned wine?” The man’s eyes flickered slightly as he confirmed this.

Cheng Maoming answered with a cold snort.

“Hahaha—” After a brief silence, laughter suddenly erupted.

The laughter grew louder and louder, echoing through the dim, forbidding interrogation room like a malicious spirit dropping its disguise.

“What are you laughing at?” Cheng Maoming’s face showed alarm and suspicion.

The man’s eyes widened slightly, filled with unrestrained mirth: “Killed your Crown Prince and dragged your Literary Star to accompany him on the road to the Yellow Springs—this trade wasn’t a loss at all.”

Cheng Maoming’s expression changed drastically: “What do you mean?”

“Hehehe.” The man laughed without answering.

Cheng Maoming seemed to react: “So you really were slandering Compiler Yang?”

The man’s tone was casual: “So what if I was?”

Cheng Maoming stepped forward, staring at him intently: “You’re not from Qi!”

The corners of the man’s mouth curved slightly, essentially admitting it.

“Then who are you?” Cheng Maoming’s tone was tense. “From Jade Glaze? No, if Jade Glaze could accomplish this, they wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths just to spread news of the Jade Glaze Princess’s death—”

He paused, his gaze sharp as a hook: “You’re a remnant of the previous dynasty!”

Hearing these words, the man abandoned his silence and became agitated: “Remnant of the previous dynasty? Aren’t you all subjects of the previous dynasty too? You all know perfectly well how Emperor Tai’an inherited the throne. Calling me a remnant of the previous dynasty—don’t you feel guilty?”

Minister Shen’s expression became somewhat awkward.

Given his age, he had naturally served under Emperor Pingle, and their ruler-subject relationship hadn’t been bad—

Cheng Maoming let out a cold laugh: “Guilty? How ridiculous. If that person were still on the throne now, Great Zhou probably wouldn’t even exist anymore. All of us would have to change our surname to Qi. Thinking of this, what do I have to feel guilty about?”

“You’re lying!”

Cheng Maoming reached out and gripped the man’s chin, his expression fierce: “Since Compiler Yang was slandered, how were you able to time things so perfectly?”

Perhaps dragging Yang Zhe down with him brought great satisfaction—the man’s expression held triumph: “Perfect timing? No, no, that’s called waiting for the opportunity. For people like us, every opportunity is waited for, and we can afford to wait.”

Having achieved his purpose, the man felt the urge to boast: “Yang Zhe was most valued by your Crown Prince. By keeping close watch on him, sooner or later there would be a chance to substitute and approach the Crown Prince. As long as I could drink at the same table as the Crown Prince, the rest would be the simplest matter.”

“But how could you be certain Yang Zhe would go to the privy?” Minister Shen couldn’t help asking.

This was also their main reason for suspecting Yang Zhe.

If Yang Zhe hadn’t gone to the privy that day, giving this person an opening, the Crown Prince wouldn’t have met with mishap.

“I couldn’t be certain.” The man curved his lips. “I told you, I only needed to wait. If Yang Zhe didn’t go to the privy this time, there would be a next time, just like all those times I waited in vain before. Eventually there would be that one time when his brief absence could provide me the opportunity to approach the Crown Prince. What I had to do was decisively seize that opportunity and succeed in one strike.”

Speaking of this, the man’s triumphant expression turned to regret: “It’s just a pity I fell a bit short. I thought I could pin the crime on Yang Zhe and leave him unable to defend himself. I didn’t expect you’d still detect my existence…”

“Since it wasn’t Yang Zhe, where did you get the mask?”

The man pressed his thin lips tightly together and fell silent.

“Not talking?” Anger accumulated in Cheng Maoming’s eyes as his voice rose: “Continue the torture—let him try some new tricks this time!”

Before long, heart-shaking screams rang out, continuing endlessly.

Minister Shen watched coldly as the man became a bloody figure barely clinging to life, then pulled Cheng Maoming aside: “Grand Commander Cheng, I think if we continue torturing him, this person won’t be able to hold out.”

“If he can’t hold out, he can’t hold out. At least it saves wasting grain.” When Cheng Maoming said this, he was full of annoyance.

He didn’t believe these remnants of the previous dynasty could all be this stubborn.

“But if he dies from torture, won’t we be unable to question him about the disguise expert behind him and those other remnants hiding their identities waiting to act?”

Cheng Maoming gritted his teeth: “Not worried—if this one dies, there’s a replacement.”

He was referring to Chen Mu locked up in Jinlin Guard’s prison.

Perhaps these words drifted into the man’s ears, making him realize there was no more hope in resisting. When the branding iron fell on him again, peeling away another piece of flesh, he finally couldn’t endure: “I… I’ll talk…”

The torturers immediately stopped and waited for Cheng Maoming’s instructions.

Cheng Maoming approached the man and sighed: “If you’d been this sensible earlier, why suffer? I know you think you’re going to die anyway, so confessing has no benefit. But how can it have no benefit? Dying comfortably—isn’t that a hundred times better than dying after enduring all this torture?”

The man moved his lips, almost without the strength to speak.

When the seemingly endless cruel torture fell upon his body, he realized he wasn’t as resolute as he thought.

It hurt too much, it really hurt too much.

Just as this person said, even if someone simply gave him a swift blade, it would be incomparable happiness for him right now.

“That person… everyone calls him Mister Fox… no one knows what he truly looks like. When I saw him that time, he was a man around thirty…”

After Cheng Maoming and Minister Shen finished listening, they looked at each other.

It sounded quite specific, but they still didn’t know what he looked like!

What use was describing tall or short, fat or thin, square face or round face? People fitting such descriptions were everywhere.

Actually, in the past, many wanted criminals posted on notices were sketched based on someone’s description like this. As for whether they could find the person based on the sketch—only heaven knew.

But after Prince Jing’s heir had helped several times, Cheng Maoming understood too well the convenience of knowing a suspect’s appearance accurately.

Right, Prince Jing’s heir!

Cheng Maoming slapped his forehead and quickly went to personally invite the person, also bringing Lin Hao along.

Meeting Minister Shen’s astonished gaze, Cheng Maoming could only respond with a calm smile.

When he went to invite the person, Prince Jing’s heir had been wrapped up with Second Miss Lin. What else could he do but invite them both back together?

Minister Shen still looked at him with uncomprehending eyes.

Cheng Maoming raised his hand to his lips and coughed, his voice extremely low: “You’ll get used to it.”

Minister Shen became even more confused.

Get used to what? He didn’t know if it was his imagination, but Grand Commander Cheng always seemed somewhat abnormal when encountering Prince Jing’s heir.

“We must trouble the heir.” After the man described Mister Fox’s appearance again, Cheng Maoming clasped his hands toward Qi Shuo.

During those long periods spent feigning illness and staying home, most of the time had been consumed by martial arts practice, reading, and painting. That brush in the young man’s hand seemed to bloom with life, quickly sketching out the image of a man.