Chapter 59: The Assassination Pavilion

On a moonless and starless midnight, the night sky was as dark as ink, so thick it seemed impossible to dissolve.

Boundless darkness shrouded the headquarters of the Military Virtue Bureau.

Though the offices were brightly lit and agents hurried back and forth, not a single person whispered among themselves. Everywhere was dead silent, enough to hear a pin drop.

The half-foot-thick cast-iron doors leading to the dungeons were half-open, and mottled bloodstains covered the bluestone steps descending into the depths.

The blackened blood had seeped into the crevices of the stones, drying into ferocious, jagged streaks.

A thin, chilling draft carrying the reek of blood extended all the way to the end of the stone staircase.

The deeper one went into the dungeon, the more biting the chill and the heavier the stench of blood.

Screams and wails, interspersed with the sound of whipping, echoed from the depths of the dungeon.

"Commander." Two agents of the Intelligence Department saw Sheng Yanming approaching, hastily put away their blood-stained whips, and stood at attention with their hands bound behind them.

"Has he confessed?" Sheng Yanming asked in a hoarse voice, raising his eyes to look at the man hanging from the torture rack.

The man hung his head, drenched in blood. His clothes were whipped to rags, exposing deep, bone-visible lash marks across his body.

"Not yet, this fellow has a very stubborn mouth," the agent replied.

Sheng Yanming raised an eyebrow slightly, took the whip from the agent's hand, coiled it, lifted the man's chin with the tip, and swept his gaze over him. "A stubborn mouth? Is your life as stubborn as your mouth? Or perhaps," he paused slightly, smiling sinisterly, "the lives of your wife, your son, and your daughter are just as stubborn?"

Hearing this, the man abruptly raised his head, his eyes widening in shock. He froze for a fraction of a second, but quickly regained his composure, sneering as he spat, "Bah! You lackey, you dog of the Military Virtue Bureau, I am a man with no attachments, you needn't try to trick me!"

Sheng Yanming showed neither anger nor irritation; he took two calm, unhurried steps forward. "Tan Erlang, you are a native of Yongzhou, using the alias Yan Xizao. Under the guise of running a tavern in the capital, you were actually engaged in espionage. Half a month ago, your wife discovered the scandal of you keeping a concubine, and you had a massive quarrel. She threatened to divorce you and leave the capital with your children. Let me think," his voice was exceedingly calm, without the slightest ripple or fluctuation, and entirely devoid of anger or murderous intent, yet it was chillingly eerie. "Your wife is a native of Jingzhou, more than three thousand miles away from Bianliang. The Jingmen Army and the Military Virtue Bureau escorted them to the capital tonight. Ten days from now, your whole family can be reunited right here in this prison."

Seeing Tan Erlang's expression change, Sheng Yanming sat down, lightly tapping his knee with a bent finger. "Oh no, not just your wife and children, but your father-in-law's family as well, your parents, brothers, and sisters—your entire three branches of relatives. Of course, reuniting won't be so easy. Three thousand miles," he sighed, "how easy it is for a few people to die along the road. And making you die in this prison is hardly difficult."

"You beast! You beast, you Military Virtue dog, you beast! I'll kill you, I'll kill you!" Tan Erlang's mind completely shattered. Driven to the brink of madness by Sheng Yanming's psychological assault, he screamed in furious despair, shaking the torture rack so violently it rattled, but to no avail.

He could neither break free from the bindings of the rack nor rescue his entire family of loved ones.

"That's right, I am a beast, but I would never harm my own kin." Sheng Yanming was long accustomed to such abuse and curses. He nonchalantly waved the saltwater-soaked whip. "When you attempted to assassinate His Majesty, you never once thought about how to protect your own family. Doesn't that make you even lower than a beast?"

Hearing these heart-piercing words, Tan Erlang collapsed from his madness into utter despair. He wanted to weep, but tears refused to come.

Whom could he blame for all this? He could only blame his own lack of foresight.

No, he had thought things through thoroughly enough; he had sent his wife and children away in advance.

It was just that he had underestimated the Military Virtue Bureau's terrifying capability to trace matters back to their roots.

It was his miscalculated move that had doomed his entire family.

"Let them go! They have nothing to do with this! They know nothing, nothing at all! They are innocent, you—you cannot slaughter the innocent!" Tan Erlang shrieked at the top of his lungs, his eyes bulging until the bloodshot sockets reflected Sheng Yanming's cold face.

"Innocent? This official wouldn't know." Sheng Yanming coldly shook his head. "Whether they are innocent or not is not for you to decide. It's what I extract from my interrogation that decides. If one or two of them fail to endure the torture and confess, then I certainly can't render a careless judgment, can I?"

"You're slaughtering the innocent!" Tan Erlang yelled, veins bulging on his temples and neck. The whip wounds on his body split open, and fresh blood oozed out, soaking his tattered clothes. "You—you are slaughtering the innocent! Heaven will exact retribution on you! It will punish you, you Military Virtue dog, you will meet with retribution!"

Sheng Yanming dug into his ear and chuckled indifferently, "Whether I meet with retribution is uncertain, but your entire family descending into hell is an absolute certainty."

Tan Erlang slumped completely, his spirit crushed. Lowering his head, he asked in a raspy voice, "Tell me, what will it take for you to spare them?"

"If you had been this sensible earlier, you wouldn't have had to suffer so much," Sheng Yanming said indifferently. "You know very well what I want to ask, so I won't waste the effort. I won't make things difficult for you; you tell me yourself. How many of them live depends entirely on how much you tell. Sound fair?"

The softer Sheng Yanming's tone, the more spine-chilling Tan Erlang found it.

The last shred of wishful thinking in Tan Erlang's heart was utterly shattered by these words. He swallowed hard with difficulty, struggled, and began to speak: "My background is entirely known to you, so there is no need to repeat it. This time, I acted under the secret orders of the Bianliang Intelligence Pavilion to assassinate Emperor Jing on the Dragon Boat Festival. The secret order did not strictly mandate that he had to be killed in a single blow, and given the circumstances at the time, it was impossible for me to achieve a one-strike kill. The assassination only afforded one chance; when I failed, I hurried to the Bianliang covert station of the Intelligence Pavilion to lie low, preparing to leave the city under their arrangements. But I never imagined you would move so swiftly, intercepting me right at the city gates."

Once the floodgates were opened, the rest of the confession poured out much more easily.

Tan Erlang spoke in meticulous detail while the agent wrote furiously, not missing a single character.

Tan Erlang spoke for the duration of a cup of tea before finally stopping. His bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at Sheng Yanming's face, filled with a desperate, heart-rending anguish: "I've told you everything! If the Intelligence Pavilion finds out, I'll suffer a death far more painful than dying! You promised me you would let them go."

Sheng Yanming raised an eyebrow slightly. "I am rather curious about one thing. You accepted a secret assignment from the Intelligence Pavilion. Western Xia has always harbored aggressive ambitions toward our Great Yu. For an operation as massive as assassinating the Sovereign, why would they dispatch only you, and without requiring success, making it look almost like a feint?"

Tan Erlang shook his head. "The rule of the Intelligence Pavilion is to follow orders blindly without questioning the reasons."

Sheng Yanming asked no further questions. He instructed the agent, "Based on his deposition, we must completely uproot the Intelligence Pavilion's covert stations in Bianliang tonight."

The agent, who had long been itching for action, shouted assent, rolled up his sleeves, and strode out.

Sheng Yanming gave Tan Erlang one last deep look and walked out without another word.

"Commander Sheng! You promised me you would let them go!"

"If I were you, I would never have married or fathered children, only to bring disaster upon others!"

Tan Erlang turned ashen grey, his lips trembling violently, unable to utter a single word.