Interrogation through torture is easier said than done. In practice, it's not simple at all.
Especially against someone with Copper Skin and Iron Bones. Many techniques were a complete joke.
Fang Shuwen gave it a try as well. With his Inner Strength, injuring the man wasn't difficult.
But forcing him to talk was another matter entirely.
Even when Fang Shuwen resorted to some rather cruel methods—like breaking his fingers one by one, prying open his eyelids, and gouging out an eye—it was no use.
The pain was excruciating, but still, he wouldn't talk.
Finally, at a loss, Fang Shuwen could only shrug at Zhou Qingmei.
Zhou Qingmei said helplessly,
"Then just kill him."
A menace like this had to be killed to prevent future trouble, even if they couldn't get any information out of him.
Fang Shuwen nodded, but the Black Death Cult Member cracked a smile.
His face was covered in blood. With one eye open and the other an empty socket, his smile was utterly terrifying:
"You... you'll all die sooner or later!"
"The Black Death Sect... will rise again!!"
As the words left his mouth, Fang Shuwen placed a palm on his head, killing him instantly with a shock of force.
They found a place to bury the two bodies.
When he returned to the room, he saw Zhou Qingmei hugging her longsword, leaning in the corner of the heated brick bed, her brow deeply furrowed.
"Are you practicing your 'three daily self-examinations,' Young Miss?"
Fang Shuwen chuckled, taking off his boots and climbing onto the heated bed.
"I have a bad feeling that whatever they're planning is something huge."
"Brother Fang, I'm worried. If we don't get to the bottom of this soon, I'm afraid it will lead to a catastrophe."
A troubled expression clouded Zhou Qingmei's face.
She hadn't looked this worried even when she knew people were trying to kill her.
Fang Shuwen sighed helplessly.
"It's a shame our interrogation skills are so... amateurish."
"Do you know anyone who's good at this sort of thing? Once we get to Guangning City, we'll have at least two leads that might point to the Black Death Sect."
"One is the money house, the other is the lecher."
"But if we find them and still can't get them to talk, it'll all be for nothing."
Zhou Qingmei shook her head.
"You don't understand. The Jianghu is filled with people from every walk of life, all sorts."
"Some are cowards. Scare them a little, and they'll tell you anything."
"But others are tough as nails. No matter how much you torture them, they'll keep their mouths shut."
"And among those, sect members are the toughest nuts to crack."
"These people have faith and a purpose. To achieve their ambitions, they're willing to disregard life and death."
"Mere pain is nothing to them."
"Sigh... if only I knew the Painful Scripture."
"The Painful Scripture? What's that?"
'That name sounds a bit strange,' Fang Shuwen thought.
"I only read about it in an old text. It's a Martial Art from the Jianghu that causes pain without injury."
"And the extreme pain it inflicts is said to be unbearable for anyone."
"The text said that a victim of this technique would feel as if they were being tortured through all Eighteen Levels of Hell for a thousand years, only to open their eyes and find that just a moment had passed."
"Unfortunately, the Martial Art was lost to time."
Zhou Qingmei's face was filled with regret.
Fang Shuwen grimaced just hearing about it. Putting himself in the victim's shoes for a moment, it was easy to imagine the utter despair they would feel.
"What kind of demonic practitioner came up with a Martial Art like that?"
"Don't be ridiculous. A great master created it to guide people toward goodness."
"He used this Martial Art to make many great villains turn over a new leaf."
"..."
Fang Shuwen was silent for a long moment.
"Well, that master certainly had a... unique way of thinking."
After the night's events, neither of them was in the mood to rest.
So they lay down and chatted idly.
Zhou Qingmei came from a merchant family and had joined a Renowned and Righteous Sect like Zhuji Pavilion. Her worldliness and knowledge were far beyond Fang Shuwen's.
Fang Shuwen seized the opportunity to ask her all about the strange tales and anecdotes of the Jianghu.
Zhou Qingmei was quite enthusiastic in her storytelling, but her voice grew quieter and quieter. Finally, just as Fang Shuwen asked her how many sects in the Jianghu could rival Zhuji Pavilion, the young woman fell fast asleep without answering.
Fang Shuwen sighed. Throughout their journey, the young miss had gradually lowered her guard around him.
'I don't know if she's just incredibly trusting, or if she doesn't even see me as a man.'
He rolled over and sat up cross-legged.
His mind turned to the Painful Scripture. According to Zhou Qingmei, the old texts only mentioned it briefly.
They didn't explain the principle behind how it caused pain without injury.
But Fang Shuwen had his own theory. The human body was covered in a network of nerves just beneath the skin.
'If I used Inner Strength to stimulate them, could I cause pain without causing injury?'
As he pondered this, he recalled his time doing odd jobs at an apothecary. He had once chanced upon a few medical texts, one of which described the body's various acupoints.
Stimulating these acupoints could cause immense, unbearable pain, enough to make one wish for death.
However, to do that, you needed to use Silver Needles.
'What if I used my Inner Strength as a needle, weaving it through the acupoints? Could I achieve the same effect?'
At that moment, Fang Shuwen felt a sudden stroke of inspiration.
A multitude of ideas flooded his mind, though he had no chance to test them at the moment.
He decided to try anyway. Raising his index and middle fingers, he attempted to condense his Inner Strength into a thread and draw it out of his body.
This required exceptional control over one's Inner Strength.
This was a trait Fang Shuwen happened to possess. It didn't go smoothly at first, however. His Inner Breath went out of control, flying out with a WHOOSH and punching a pinhole-sized opening in the wall.
After a dozen or so attempts, he finally managed to make his True Qi condense at his fingertips, holding its shape without dissipating.
But he couldn't make it as firm as a Silver Needle.
It was like a limp thread, wavering at his fingertips as his Inner Breath circulated.
This thread was invisible to the naked eye, but as its creator, Fang Shuwen could feel its presence.
He thought for a moment and sent the thread toward the wall.
The thread entered the wall, leaving it unharmed.
But that raised a question: did this thing have any destructive power at all?
Fang Shuwen wasn't crazy enough to test it on himself, but he did cast an eager, speculative glance at Zhou Qingmei.
After careful consideration, however, he decided he couldn't possibly do something so inhuman to his client.
With a sigh, he released the strand of True Qi, and the thread vanished without a trace.
'I'll just have to wait until we capture another member of the Black Death Sect to give it a try.'
'What if it works wonders?'
'If someone else could create a Martial Art like the Painful Scripture, why can't I?'