Wang Biao noticed her at this moment and turned his head.
His fleshy face gleamed with grease under the light of the torches. In one hand, he held a ghost-head broadsword, its blade still clinging to streaks of half-dried blood.
He looked up and down at the woman standing at the bottom of the stone steps.
She wore no armor, only a set of ordinary clothes currently fashionable in the capital, the hem of her skirt still stained with the yellow sand from outside.
A sword with a pure gold scabbard hung at her waist, and her slender figure looked as if a strong gust of wind could blow her over.
So this was the rumored female imperial envoy who had come to the northern frontier bearing the Emperor's sword.
Wang Biao grinned, revealing two rows of yellowed teeth. He neither knelt nor even bent his waist; he merely tapped his shoulder with the back of his blade.
"Yo, where did this delicate guest come from in the dead of the night?"
Wang Biao slapped the confession in his hand loudly and shouted with a gruff voice.
"This place isn't a male brothel you can just stroll through. It stinks to high heaven, so don't dirty your noble shoes. The leeches raised in this black water are specialized in sucking human blood."
"A noble person like you has such delicate skin. If you get bitten, it will hurt for days."
As soon as he finished speaking, a noise came from the depths of the water dungeon.
The end of the corridor suddenly dropped down; it was not flat ground, but an isolated stone platform surrounded by black water.
The space was indeed cramped, only allowing a few people to stand, but a semi-open small cubicle had been carved out on one side of the stone wall, inside which burned a basin of dim charcoal fire.
That was the gloomy place where the jailers rested and drank during the intervals of their interrogations.
Beside the charcoal basin, half a charred leg of lamb was roasting. Grease dripped into the charcoal fire, making a sizzling sound.
Several empty wine jars were scattered nearby, along with a plate of leftover peanuts.
A figure slowly swayed out from that dark little cubicle.
The newcomer wore the official uniform of a sixth-rank military officer. The cloud goose on his rank badge was smeared with grease, making even its original color indistinguishable.
This man was He Minghu's capable right-hand man, Deputy Lieutenant Qian.
Deputy Lieutenant Qian held a chipped coarse porcelain wine bowl in his hand, wiping the grease from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve as he walked.
His steps were somewhat unsteady, clearly having just downed several bowls of strong liquor, the stench of alcohol wafting out with his breath.
He walked to the edge of the stone platform and, across ten feet of black water, met Xu Qinghuan's gaze.
"I was wondering who was making such a big commotion."
Deputy Lieutenant Qian crossed his arms over his chest, speaking in an official tone with a fake smile, his mouth full of northern slang.
"So it's the Imperial Envoy from the capital."
Holding his wine bowl, he toasted Xu Qinghuan from afar, but didn't drink, merely tapping his chin with the rim of the bowl.
"Imperial Envoy, in the middle of the night, instead of hugging your quilt and sleeping in the posthouse, you brought dozens of armed men to force your way into the death row of our Ministry of War's Defense Department."
Deputy Lieutenant Qian smacked his lips and let out a dramatic sigh.
"If this charge is reported upwards, I'm afraid it won't sound very nice, will it?"
"If the higher-ups blame you, saying that you, a mere woman, don't understand military rules and trespassed into a restricted area, where will you put your face?"
Xu Qinghuan ignored him.
Her gaze moved past Deputy Lieutenant Qian and landed back on Xu Zhan.
The man hanging on the torture rack was now breathing so weakly it could barely be heard.
"Let him go."
Hearing this, Deputy Lieutenant Qian laughed out loud.
"Let him go?"
Deputy Lieutenant Qian smashed the wine bowl in his hand onto the ground.
With a crash, the sound of shattering coarse porcelain echoed in the cramped water dungeon, broken shards splashing all over the floor.
"Imperial Envoy, have you stayed in the capital so long that water has gotten into your brain?"
Deputy Lieutenant Qian raised his chin, pointing at the seeping stone walls around them.
"Take a good look. This place is called death row, under the jurisdiction of our Ministry of War's Defense Department. Everyone locked up in here is a condemned prisoner guilty of treason and colluding with the enemy!"
He took a half step forward, his boot soles crunching on the broken porcelain.
"The sky is high and the Emperor is far away, Your Excellency."
Deputy Lieutenant Qian dragged out his words, his tone full of the unyielding arrogance of a scoundrel.
"That sword in your hand might scare those pedantic civil officials or cowardly pawns in the capital, but here in Zhenbei City, in this pitch-black underground, the rules from the outside don't apply."
He pointed a thick, stubby finger at Xu Zhan.
"This brat colluded with the barbarians and poisoned the military rations, making the brothers of the vanguard camp go mad. The evidence is conclusive, and he even pressed his bloody handprint on the confession."
"You think you can just flap your lips and take him away?"
Deputy Lieutenant Qian snorted coldly, spitting out flecks of saliva.
"Do you think this Zhenbei City is your backyard?"
"You can come and go as you please, and take whoever you want?"
"I'll say it one more time."
She looked at Deputy Lieutenant Qian without the slightest flinch in her eyes.
"Take him down."
Deputy Lieutenant Qian turned his head and shot a glance at Wang Biao.
Having received permission, Wang Biao stuffed the confession into his shirt, lifted the ghost-head broadsword still crusted with blood, and advanced toward Xu Qinghuan.
He stepped down from the stone platform.
His boots stepped into the sewage on the ground, making a sticky splashing sound. Wang Biao stopped five paces away from Xu Qinghuan.
Relying on his towering stature, he looked down condescendingly at this woman who didn't even reach his shoulder.
"Imperial Envoy, did you not understand Deputy Lieutenant Qian's words?"
Wang Biao rested the ghost-head broadsword on his shoulder, the iron rings on the back of the blade clinking together.
"In this death row, there are only living people who walk in standing up, and dead people who are carried out lying down. There is no such thing as walking out completely intact."
"Once you enter this door, even the King of Hell would lose a layer of skin!"
"Your second brother's life! It is now in my hands!"
As Wang Biao spoke, he raised his hand and used the tip of the ghost-head broadsword to mimic a slashing motion in mid-air.
The tip of the blade swung down in an arc, stirring up a gust of wind, and finally stopped at the level of Xu Zhan's neck.
"As long as I flick my wrist like this."
Wang Biao grinned, the flesh on his face bunching together.
"With a crack, your second brother, along with his crime of treason, will be left entirely in this black water. When the time comes, you won't even be able to find a whole corpse."
"Your Excellency, if you know what's good for you, hurry up and take your men back to the posthouse. The waters of Zhenbei City are very deep. Don't drown yourself, little lady."
"It would be too unworthy to lose your life here."
After hearing all this, Xu Qinghuan still did not take a step back, nor did she even blink an eye.
She merely lowered her head, looking at Wang Biao's tattered cloth boots stepping in the sewage.
Her reflection on the water's surface intertwined with reality, torn to shreds by the firelight.
A command, carrying overwhelming hatred, shot straight through the dark and damp dome of the water dungeon.
"Li Sheng!"
