Chapter 252: Interrogation

Songpu, leaning to the side, couldn't help sitting up and leaning forward to look.

Pan Yun turned her head toward him and smiled, "Want to see?"

Songpu immediately lay back down, smiling weakly, "I'm just curious—what are you calculating?"

Pan Yun: "Call me Master."

Songpu immediately corrected himself, "Master, what are you calculating?"

"I'm calculating the location of your Songpu family's hidden treasure," Pan Yun said. "Since you've come all this way, how could you leave empty-handed?"

Songpu froze, then hurriedly asked, "Have you found it yet?"

Pan Yun: "I have a lead, but it's still incomplete. Why not give me some additional information, Songpu-kun?"

Songpu immediately said, "I don't know, really—I'm still young, I'm just here to gain experience..."

Pan Yun looked astonished. "Your Songpu family's education is strangely unique—using piracy as training?"

Songpu's face flushed red as he retorted, "I'm not becoming a pirate—I'm here for licensed trade."

Pan Yun: "Do you have a license?"

Songpu fell silent. The licenses were held by the Shogun Ashikaga clan—how could they possibly have one?

Precisely because they didn't have them, they resorted to smuggling and piracy.

Songpu dared not speak.

Pan Yun sneered, drew her sword, and laid it across his throat. "I'll give you one chance—tell me, where did you hide the loot?"

Songpu hadn't expected her to switch moods so suddenly—he was momentarily stunned.

Seeing he was still distracted under her threat, Pan Yun shifted the blade slightly, pressing it directly against his neck. The sharp edge instantly cut his skin. Songpu felt a sharp sting, snapped back to awareness, and cried out, "Wait—wait..."

Slowly tilting his head back, he swallowed and whispered, "I really don't know—but I think the loot wasn't stored on the island. It was shipped back to Hirado, right?"

"Oh?" Pan Yun sneered. "Song Bei said the treasure is hidden on the island. Now you say it was shipped to Hirado. So—who lied to whom? You lied to Song Bei, or Song Bei lied to me?"

Song Bei, bound and gagged beside them, immediately shook his head violently, groaning. But Songpu didn't know him well enough to understand his meaning.

He assumed Song Bei was showing loyalty to Pan Yun, proving he hadn't lied.

Songpu, terrified she'd think he was lying, quickly explained, "Master, I'm not lying—I swear it. Every year, many ships carry goods to Hirado. My family has many warehouses along the coast, all for storing goods."

"Of course, Juichi-kun probably didn't lie either—he just moved the goods to the island first, then someone else transported them from there."

Pan Yun sneered repeatedly, pressing only on the island. "Where is this transit island?"

Songpu felt like crying. "I truly don't know! I've just started helping with family affairs—this is my first time coming to Great Ming. How could I know such secret matters?"

Pan Yun: "If this is your first time here, how come you speak Han Chinese so well?"

Songpu replied matter-of-factly, "The Songpu clan are lords of Hirado. Our young men study Confucian classics from childhood."

"Oh," Pan Yun sheathed her sword. "I almost forgot—you use Han characters now."

No wonder she'd always felt something off—why did the Japanese pirates' maps have nothing but Chinese writing?

She'd almost forgotten—Han Chinese was still the primary written language in Japan, Korea, and the Lê dynasty.

Pan Yun was genuinely curious about them. "You study Confucian classics from childhood, yet engage in smuggling and plundering. Doesn't that contradiction cause inner turmoil?"

Songpu's face flushed red—he felt Pan Yun was insulting him, slandering the Songpu clan. "Master Sanzhu, stop your roundabout insults. If you want to kill me, just do it."

He lifted his neck, waiting for death.

Pan Yun: "... I barely suppressed the urge to kill you, and sincerely wanted to discuss philosophy with you—and you misunderstand me like this?"

Songpu snapped, "Is this philosophy? You're clearly insulting us—claiming we're unworthy of Confucian culture."

"No, no, no—it's not about worthiness. It's about the contradiction between inner belief and outward action," Pan Yun said. "Corrupt officials once had lofty ideals too—they studied for the people's sake."

"Since you studied Confucian classics from childhood, you should know Great Ming's official selection system. Who among today's ministers didn't study Confucian texts from youth? Yet still, there are countless schemers and sycophants. Don't you see the similarity with your own situation?"

Pan Yun grew more excited. "I've always wanted to ask you—when you're raised on such teachings yet act in ways that contradict them, do you feel inner division? Do you feel guilt?"

"And I want to ask—how do you reconcile this contradiction between inner belief and outward action? Or have you become numb—completely indifferent?"

Each of her words struck like a loud slap across Songpu's face—yet her eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity, as if she truly wished to understand, not to humiliate him.

The slaps hurt more. They rang louder.

The young Songpu thought it would've been better if she'd just slit his throat earlier.

Pan Yun stared at him intently, urging, "Come on—just analyze your own heart. What's so hard to say?"

Songpu, enraged, snapped, "Don't you ever act against your own heart?"

Pan Yun tilted her head, thought for a moment, then said, "I sometimes pretend—but I never act against my heart."

Songpu: "Isn't pretending acting against your heart?"

"Of course not," Pan Yun said. "At least, not for me."

She pointed to Zhang Weiliang, sitting nearby. "He's my peer. He dislikes me, and I dislike him—I never hide it."

"His uncle holds high rank and power. He dislikes me too. I dislike him. But when we meet, I still greet him politely. That's pretense—but everyone knows we dislike each other, so I'm not acting against my heart."

Seeing Miao Zhen added, "Because my junior uncle mocks them politely."

"And you?" Pan Yun pressed. "How do you reconcile reciting 'To restrain oneself and return to propriety is benevolence; if one day one restrains oneself and returns to propriety, the whole world returns to benevolence,' while wielding a great knife to kill and plunder?"

Songpu suppressed his rage. "Those texts are for show—meant to impress. No one has to live by them."

Pan Yun: "Hypocritical."

Songpu: "Confucian culture is inherently hypocritical."

Pan Yun swung her palm hard—through the air, she struck Songpu's face, sending him sprawling.

Songpu staggered up, touching his cheek, spitting out a tooth.

Pan Yun's face was cold. "Confucian culture is not hypocritical. Confucius, Mencius, and Xunzi—who spoke of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness—were not hypocritical. You are."

"You study their life's teachings, pretend to agree, use them to display your learning and benevolence, to gain more advantage—because you know people admire beauty, and these are beautiful virtues, beautiful culture."

"Only when you display what you've learned do people draw near. But your nature is cunning, utterly hypocritical—you learn but never practice, then smash the bowl you used to eat from, calling it hypocritical. Hmph. It's you who are utterly hypocritical."

Pan Yun snorted and said, "I'm a fool myself. Even for a discussion of the Dao, I should find someone honest, someone who can think. Why would I come looking for a blockhead like you?"

Having said that, she felt he was wasting her time, turned around and left.

She thought it over and felt something was off, so she came back. This time she directly raised her foot and stepped on his chest, asking, "Tell me, does your General Ashikaga support the tally trade or not?"

Songpu: "... Not really supportive."

"How many bands of pirates are harassing the coastal regions?"

Songpu said, "Lots. Everyone's acquaintances are doing business — a few ronin can form a band. How could I possibly know so much?"

"You're not being honest. I'm asking about pirate gangs of more than a hundred men, and you're bringing up little groups of a few ronin?"

Pan Yun ground her foot hard against his chest. "You think because I'm young I can't be bullied into telling the truth? Zhang Weiliang, Zhang Weiqin, you two come here."

Zhang Weiliang and Zhang Weiqin walked over, completely baffled.

Pan Yun pointed at Songpu and said, "Hand this man over to you two. Find a way to empty out everything in his head."

Zhang Weiliang asked, "Empty out what?"

"They've plundered so much wealth from our Great Ming — shouldn't we take it back? War is coming, and every piece of information needed for war has to be wrung out."

Pan Yun counted them off on her fingers: "Right now, how many major Japanese pirate factions are there, what are their main areas of activity, which daimyo and noble clans are backing them, and within Japan itself, which daimyo support the tally trade and want to exterminate the bandits, and which daimyo let the pirates run rampant."

"As long as you don't let him die, use whatever methods you like."

Zhang Weiliang: "Just beat him, what other methods are there?"

Pan Yun stared at him, her expression complicated, and said, "Back then you had so many tricks when dealing with me, but facing a real villain, you only have the one trick of beating him?"

Zhang Weiliang choked up and looked toward Zhang Weiqin.

After a moment of silence, Zhang Weiqin said, "We understand."

Pan Yun patted both of them on the shoulder and said meaningfully, "This is all merit."

In both the previous and current engagements, Pan Yun had been the main force; she no longer lacked merit.

But Zhang Weiliang and Zhang Weiqin did.

Especially since intercepting Song Bei had originally been their mission, yet Pan Yun, as the main force, had snatched the credit.

With only the degree of participation they had now, they probably couldn't meet the merit requirement to return to the Academy, so neither of them refused the task Pan Yun assigned.

The two dragged Songpu off to the graveyard for a friendly exchange.

Songpu was scared out of his wits, wailing loudly, "Kill me, just kill me—"

Zhang Weiliang grinned wickedly. "Want to die? Not that easy. Do you know who I am? Pan... even Sanzhu suffered losses at my hands. Think it over yourself — best you answer whatever we ask."

The screams from the graveyard continued; the pit was dug, and the corpses were all thrown in and buried.

Pan Yun placed the calculated formulas into her Spirit Realm space. After sitting quietly for a moment before this massive graveyard, she said, "Although you can't raise my merit, this Daoist is kind-hearted. Since you're all dead now, every grievance from your lives is dissolved. As for me, I don't hate you anymore, and you shouldn't hate me either."

"I'm going to recite scriptures now to deliver you, send you back to your homeland, go back and reincarnate — don't linger here."

If you stayed here, what if you scared the common folk of our Great Ming?

Pan Yun formed hand seals with both hands and silently began reciting the Scripture of the Supreme Lord's Salvation from Suffering.

(End of chapter)