Chapter 530: Mingjing Department Experience Card

Night has grown deep.

Mingjing Department.

The execution chamber.

No sliver of daylight is visible; only a few oil lamps in the corner of the wall burn with a dim yellow flame, stretching the shadows long and eerie.

The air is thick with the smell of rusted iron and damp mildew, mingled with a faint whiff of blood.

The execution rack stands in the center of the chamber, sturdy iron chains coiled around the massive wooden beams.

Li Shengchang is tightly bound to it, his wrists and ankles locked in iron shackles, the chains digging into flesh and leaving dark‑red bruises.

He remains unconscious, his head drooping weakly over his chest.

His hair clings to his pallid cheek, and the corner of his mouth still bears the disheveled trace of his recent faint.

Chen Yan, dressed in dark common robes, stands in the shadows not far from the chamber and orders, "Wake him up!"

"At your command!"

Yuanzhou bows and replies, then turns to lift a bucket of pre‑prepared cold water from the corner.

The wooden bucket is heavy, yet he carries it steadily, striding to the rack with a slight effort of his arm.

Splash—

A deafening crash, the bone‑chilling water pours over Li Shengchang's head!

The cold water, laced with chill, soaks his garments, runs down his hair and neck, and instantly snaps the unconscious Li Shengchang awake.

He shivers violently, a sour taste rising in his throat, and coughs repeatedly, "Cough… cough cough!"

The cough echoes through the spacious chamber, tinged with an uncontrollable shiver.

He slowly opens his eyes, his gaze hazy and scattered, laboriously scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

The mottled stone walls, the cold execution devices, the flickering oil lamps—all exude a heart‑pounding solemnity.

Then, shaking his dazed head, his voice hoarse and dry, he mutters, "Where am I…?"

At that moment, a voice comes from the shadows, laced with a hint of playfulness and mockery, breaking his confusion: "Friend from Qi State, welcome to my Great Zhou's Mingjing Department!"

"Mingjing Department?!" The three words strike his nerves like a bolt of thunder.

As if the most sensitive trigger had been hit, his whole body jerks.

A chill rushes from his soles to the crown of his head, and his previously hazy eyes clear up considerably.

He struggles to lift his head, his gaze urgently searching the chamber, finally fixing on the tall figure not far away.

When he sees the handsome yet imposing face, his pupils contract; all drowsiness and confusion vanish, replaced by bone‑deep terror, and he exclaims, "Chen Yan!"

Chen Yan slowly steps out of the shadows, the oil‑lamp light illuminating his face, and gives Li Shengchang a slight nod, his tone calm, "Indeed."

He says, a faint, meaningful smile curling his lips, and continues, "I suppose you know a great deal about this Duke, so I won't introduce myself…"

Li Shengchang silently snorts in his heart, "Heh!"

Then he lifts his eyes to stare directly at Chen Yan, his gaze scrutinizing the famed and powerful minister before him.

At such close range, he realizes Chen Yan is far more heroic than the portraits suggested.

His eyebrows are sword‑shaped, eyes star‑bright, nose high, lips defined; even with a faint smile at the corners, the innate, imposing aura cannot be concealed.

Though young, he carries a pressure of long‑held authority that commands respect.

Chen Yan seems to notice the appraisal; rather than being annoyed, his smile deepens.

He turns sideways, raises a hand, and points to the various execution devices arranged around the chamber.

From spiked iron whips and gleaming branding irons to oddly shaped clamps and wooden cages bristling with spikes…

Each exudes a chilling murderous intent.

"Come, take a look at the dazzling array of execution devices of my Mingjing Department!" he says cheerfully, as if showcasing rare treasures, then turns to Li Shengchang, smiling, "How does it compare? It's far richer than the kinds you have in Qi State, isn't it?"

The oil‑lamp light reflects off the devices, casting a cold sheen; Li Shengchang watches, his heart pounding, cold sweat already beading on his back.

Those familiar devices already make his hair stand on end.

There are also many oddly shaped, never‑seen devices; merely looking at them sends a shiver down the spine, leaving one wondering what piercing, bone‑deep pain they will inflict.

"Chen Yan, stop beating around the bush!" Li Shengchang clenches his fist, nails digging into his palm, using the sting to suppress the surge of fear, his neck tensing, he says forcefully, "What exactly do you intend to do?"

Chen Yan hears this, his smile narrowing slightly, his gaze sharpening; he extends his right hand, raising two slender fingers, "I give you two choices…"

He pauses, then continues, "Either you cooperate and tell me what this Duke wishes to hear, sparing yourself this flesh‑and‑blood torment!"

Or, after you have experienced these devices, you may speak the words this Duke wants to hear!

Li Shengchang's neck tenses, his chest lifts slightly; even though the iron chains bind him immobile, his gaze shows a feigned resolve, and he declares loudly, "I, Li Shengchang, am a loyal minister of Great Qi!"

"Born a Great Qi man, dead a Great Qi ghost; I would never betray my lord and country merely to survive!"

He deliberately raises his voice, trying to mask his inner fear with force, his face full of determination, "Chen, I advise you to give up that thought of living!"

"Trying to extract even a single word from my mouth is pure wasted effort!"

Having said that, he turns his face away fiercely, a look of defiant resolve.

Chen Yan hears this, clicks his tongue, a half‑smile on his face, remarking, "Well, still a tough nut!"

He then walks slowly to Li Shengchang, circles half a turn around the rack, a playful curve at his mouth, his fingertip lightly tapping a nearby device, teasing, "Coincidentally, my Mingjing Department loves entertaining tough nuts!"

"They exist precisely for you!"

Isn't that just fitting?

He finishes, casting a glance toward Yuanzhou.

Yuanzhou understands, steps forward, his gaze sharp on Li Shengchang, his tone icy, "It seems you are determined to choose the latter."

Then, turning to the embroidered‑clad envoys on both sides, he loudly orders, "Come! First give this Li something, settle his hundred meridians!"

"At your command!" the two embroidered envoys reply in unison, immediately fetching a set of peculiar execution devices from the corner.

They are dozens of silver needles as fine as cattle hair, neatly arranged on a wooden tray, their tips shimmering with a faint blue glow, clearly infused with a special medicinal liquid.

Li Shengchang stared fixedly at those silver needles, his pupils slightly constricted, yet he still forced his dignity, gritting his teeth as he said, "I, Li, want to see just how terrible your Zhou State punishments can be!"

Before the words finished, two embroidered‑cloak envoys hurried forward; one pressed Li Shengchang's shoulder, the other brandished a silver needle, precisely stabbing at the acupoints all over his body.

The silver needle entered his body in an instant, at first causing only a slight prick.

But in the blink of an eye, a piercing numb‑itch spread along his blood vessels.

It felt as if countless ants were crawling through his marrow, both itchy and painful, unbearable.

"Ah—ahhh!"

A harrowing scream burst from Li Shengchang's mouth, his whole body trembling violently.

The iron chains clanged against the rack, producing a deafening "clang—clang" sound.

Blue veins bulged on his forehead, cold sweat poured down like a waterfall, soaking his clothes.

The "Fixed Hundred Pulse" specifically targets the body's sensitive acupoints, layering numb‑itch and pain, more crushing than pure agony.

Chen Yan stood nearby, watching with keen interest.

Li Shengchang clenched his jaw, his teeth chattering, his lips bloodied from biting, and forced three words from his throat: "No… no pain!"

Yet his trembling voice and twisted face already revealed his true feeling.

The so‑called "no pain" was nothing but self‑deception and forced bravado.

Yuanzhou's expression remained unchanged, not even a flicker of a brow, and he calmly ordered, "Apply Sudden Roar!"

"As you command!" the embroidered‑cloak envoys replied in unison, immediately withdrawing the silver needles and switching to another set of torture devices.

They were a pair of curved iron tongs, the inner sides lined with fine barbs.

The moment the iron tongs touched flesh, a searing, heart‑rending pain shot up through the nerves to the crown of his head.

Li Shengchang's wail suddenly rose, sharp enough to pierce the deathly silence of the execution chamber: "Ah—ahhh!"

His whole body convulsed, sweat mixing with tears streaming down, his chest heaving violently, yet he still strained his neck, laboriously raising his eyes toward Chen Yan, a twisted sneer curling his mouth: "Is this… this even a punishment?"

"Are you just tickling Li?"

"Isn't there…n't anything harsher?"

Yuanzhou heard that, calmly uttered two words: "Continue."

The embroidered‑cloak envoys dared not delay, promptly switching to "Dead Pig Sorrow" and "Jade Maiden Ascending Ladder."

The former is an iron ring strapped around the waist, tightening inexorably, as if to crush out the internal organs.

The latter forces the victim to stand barefoot on a wooden ladder studded with spikes; a slight wobble would pierce the soles.

Li Shengchang's complexion turned ashen white like paper in an instant, blue veins bulging on his forehead, his face contorting into a ferocious grimace from the excruciating pain.

He bit down hard, blood threads oozing from his gums, yet still forced a grin, spitting out a mocking line through his teeth: "No… that's all! I thought your Zhou State punishments were much more terrible!"

"With this… with this you still try to pry my mouth open?"

"Foolish delusion!"

Chen Yan leaned against a nearby torture instrument, his fingertips idly tapping the iron frame, watching Li Shengchang's forced bravado, his smile deepening, yet he said nothing.

At that moment, the execution chamber door was gently pushed open, Shen Junli hurried in, his expression solemn, bowing with clasped fists to Chen Yan, and reported gravely, "Sir, those Qi traitors have been captured!"

"What?!"

The forced Li Shengchang was struck as if by lightning, instantly dumbfounded, his ferocious sneer and mockery frozen, replaced by incredulous terror.

He jerked his head, staring at Chen Yan, his lips trembling, unable for a moment to form a full sentence: "You… you!"

In that instant, his desperate forced bravado became a joke…

Chen Yan slowly straightened up, casting a sideways glance at Li Shengchang, his eyes full of mockery, saying with a half‑smile, "Interrogating you is just a pastime, a way to kill time…"

He paused, his tone tinged with ridicule, "You're not the only breakthrough!"

"Since waiting is just waiting, why not kill time with some fun…"

The words cut like a sharp knife, piercing Li Shengchang's last mental defense.

His whole body went limp, the previously taut frame collapsing instantly.

The resolve and bravado in his eyes vanished, leaving only endless despair and humiliation.

Chen Yan's gaze shifted from the limp Li Shengchang to the bowed Shen Junli, and said, "Speak."

"What have they… captured?"

Shen Junli stepped forward in response, his eyes scanning the dazed Li Shengchang on the rack, and reported gravely, "This person is named Li Shengchang, responsible for liaison with the Qi State…"

He paused, then continued, "According to the confession, their master is named Gao Changjing, a bastard son of Qi lord Gao Ying!"

Li Kailan stepped forward, adding, "Sir, according to the detailed testimony of those Qi traitors, Gao Changjing is extraordinarily handsome, far beyond any ordinary man, truly 'refreshingly elegant, with a brilliant bearing and clear charm'!"

As he spoke, he took a scroll from his bosom, carefully handed it forward, "Shuyi has already found a top painter, who, based on their description, has drawn a portrait…"

"The appearance matches almost exactly what King Qiao previously described and what we initially sketched!"

"Please have a look!"

Chen Yan lifted his hand, took the portrait, his fingertips pinching the edge of the scroll, and slowly unfurled it.

The oil lamp's dim glow fell on the paper, outlining the figure's contour.

The man wore a moon‑white brocade robe, his features painterly, a high nose bridge, and distinct lip line.

His eyes seemed to hold autumn water, both youthful and refined, truly worthy of the eight‑character appraisal "refreshingly elegant, with a brilliant bearing and clear charm."

The portrait's face was so handsome it bordered on otherworldly, yet bore no trace of femininity.

Instead, it exuded an indescribable heroic aura, as if one could feel, even through the paper, its extraordinary bearing.

Chen Yan's gaze lingered on the portrait, his fingertips gently tracing the paper's edge, murmuring softly, "Gao Changjing?"

The name rolled on his tongue, and a long‑buried thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.

Then, Chen Yan furrowed his brow slightly, muttering to himself, "He can't be that Lanling King Gao Changgong…"