Tang Dynasty: A Guide to Avoiding Pitfalls for Li Er at the Start

Chapter 278 If they can't provide compensation, I'll have no choice but to bring them to justice.
"He fell ill after vomiting blood?"

The musty smell of Dali Temple prison, mixed with a faint stench of blood, entered Wen He's nostrils.

When he heard the news from the Hundred Riders, he raised an eyebrow, quite surprised.

The old man from the Cui family of Boling looked strong, but I didn't expect him to have such poor mental fortitude. He couldn't hold on like that.

He chuckled and shook his head, his fingertips tracing the warm rim of the teacup. He tilted his head back and drank the remaining tea, then got up and walked deeper into the prison.

The clanging sound of the chains dragging on the ground echoed in the passageway, like a death knell.

"It was all Jung Yunho's doing, it has nothing to do with us, I really don't know anything about it,"

"It was Zheng and Cui who plotted this; I was just a guest!"

"Waaaaah... Please have mercy on me..."

The wooden door to the torture chamber was ajar, and the cries and screams inside were like poisoned needles, piercing one's eardrums with pain.

Wen He pushed open the door and entered, her gaze sweeping over the interior.

Several gentry sons who used to live in luxury were now disheveled and emaciated.

Some were strapped to wooden frames, their limbs twisted at bizarre angles; others were tied to tiger benches, veins bulging on their foreheads, their teeth clenched so tightly they made a grinding sound.

The one furthest inside had its head forcibly pressed down, its face covered with three layers of wet mulberry paper, its chest heaving violently, and a hoarse, suffocating sound coming from its throat; it was struggling the most frantically.

Wen He glanced at the dark water stains spreading on the paper, unable to recall the name of the punishment.

Is it called "Tie Jia Guan"?
Or something else?
However, judging from the suffocating state of this being worse than death, it must be one of the most torturous forms of torture.

'I'm clearly a good person, how did I end up on the path of torture and forced confessions?'

He clicked his tongue twice in his mind, then slowly walked to the young man whose name had been "added to his official rank," and gestured for the jailer to step back. He pinched the outermost corner of the paper between his fingers and gently tore it off.

"His-"

The sound of wet paper peeling off skin was especially clear amidst the screams.

Jung Yunho's face was exposed to the air, turning purplish-blue, his eyes rolled back, and blood and foam from his nose covered half of his face.

Without the pressure of the paper, he gasped for breath like a fish out of water, his throat emitting sobs like a broken bellows, tears and snot mixed with blood streaming down his face.

When he finally saw Wen He's smiling face, he shuddered violently, as if he had been doused with ice water.

The smile flickered in the swaying candlelight, as kind as the warm spring sun, yet it sent a chill down his spine.

"Young Master Zheng has suffered."

Wen He's voice was gentle, as if she were having a casual conversation, "Now, can we speak properly?"

Jung Yunho was trembling violently, the sound of his teeth chattering drowning out his breathing.

Looking into the unfathomable calm in Wen He's eyes, he dared not hesitate for a moment, nodding repeatedly until his chin ached from hitting his chest.

"Yes, yes, I did it all, I ordered it!"

He cried out urgently, fearing that if he was even a fraction of a second too slow, he would suffer the same torment again.

"But...but...it was Lord Cui of Qinghe who suggested it. He said that burning your wool would allow you to frame the Zheng family, killing two birds with one stone!"

This is when they start biting like crazy.

Wen He picked up the cool tea from the table next to her, took a slow sip, and turned her gaze to the young man who was tied to the tiger bench on the other side.

The young man, dressed in a brocade undergarment, was now soaked in cold sweat and his face was covered in mud. He was the same one who had just cried out that he was "just visiting."

"Oh?"

Wen He put down her teacup, her voice tinged with amusement.

"I recall that you all seem to have the surname Cui? I wonder which one is the Cui from Qinghe and which one is the Cui from Boling?"

Before he could finish speaking, the young man on the left suddenly twisted around like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, and eagerly raised his chin at the man on the right: "He, he is Cui Ming of the Cui family of Qinghe, and I am Cui An of the Cui family of Boling. I really was just a guest. You, the magistrate of Gaoyang, know that I have absolutely nothing to do with this matter!"

He spoke so fast it was like popping beans, as if afraid that if he was even a second late he would be categorized as part of the "Qinghe Cui" camp.

His eagerness to distance himself from the situation was a far cry from the dignity of a noble family; he looked more like a scoundrel haggling in a market.

Wen He looked at him, her smile deepening, but a hint of coldness flashed in her eyes.

He slowly rose, walked to Cui An, squatted down, and gently patted the other's trembling cheek with his fingertips: "A guest? That's quite a coincidence. I'm also short of a 'guest' here. Why don't you stay a few more days, Young Master Cui?"

Cui An's face turned pale instantly, his pupils shrank to pinpoints, and a desperate sob escaped his throat.

"No, no, no, I want to go home, please, I really didn't know anything about this!"

Cui Ming was crying uncontrollably, his voice trembling and incoherent. His brocade trousers were soaked through, the stench of blood mingling with the stench of the torture chamber filling the damp air.

Wen He scoffed and kicked the straw in the corner.

Is this what is meant by the sons of the gentry?

He usually composes poems and considers himself superior, but when it comes to a life-or-death situation, he's not even as good as a street ruffian.

He turned and walked toward Jung Yunho, who lay trembling on the ground as if his bones had been removed, the iron chains dragging on the stone slabs, making a faint, mournful sound.

"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

Wen He squatted down, her tone as gentle as if she were coaxing a child, but her eyes were like icy knives.

"I just want to know who your accomplices are. Don't say there aren't any, and don't play dumb. My patience isn't very good."

Despite being only ten years old, his words carried a chilling and oppressive quality.

Jung Yunho swallowed hard, the sound of his Adam's apple bobbing clearly audible in the silent interrogation room.

Looking into Wen He's seemingly innocent but unfathomable eyes, he suddenly understood something.

"Then... how should I say it?"

He asked in a trembling voice, his tone carrying a hint of despair, as if he had given up entirely.

Wen He stood up, hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the struggling young men. His tone was undisguisedly guiding: "Does Young Master Zheng not know who the accomplices are? There were more than just one or two guests at your residence today, weren't there? Are they really completely uninvolved in this matter?"

Jung Yunho shuddered and took a few deep breaths.

The suffocating feeling from the "adding official titles" incident still lingered in his throat; he never wanted to experience that agonizing emptiness again.

Live on, even if it means surviving on the bones of others!

"Yes, yes, they're all here!"

He suddenly looked up, a fierce glint in his eyes.

“Cui Ming suggested using pine resin to aid combustion, saying it would burn more cleanly. And Cui An from Boling, he said he would hold Zheng Wu accountable, making sure the Cui family was also implicated…”

“Very good.” Wen He nodded in satisfaction and patted him on the shoulder. “A wise man submits to circumstances.” He turned to the jailer and ordered, “Write a confession for Zheng Langjun and have him sign it. The others must confess before tonight.”

"By the way, untie Zheng Langjun, move him to a clean cell, treat him to good food and drink, and remember, keep him in solitary confinement, and make sure nothing goes wrong."

Upon hearing this, Jung Yunho collapsed to the ground, and a trace of warmth finally seeped through his back, which was soaked in cold sweat.

He knew he was safe for the time being.

"Jung Yunho, you scoundrel!"

"Damn you, Jung Yunho, I'm severing all ties with you today!"

"You bastard, you beast, you despicable traitor who betrays his friends for personal gain!"

The aristocratic youths who were bound to the torture instruments went completely mad. Their fear and anger towards Wen He were now transferred entirely to Zheng Yunhao.

The foul language came down like hail, some even struggling to pounce and bite, but the jailers held them down hard.

Jung Yunho closed his eyes, letting the vicious curses seep into his ears.

He knew that his reputation was ruined, but no matter how important his reputation was, it was not as important as his life.

Wen He watched the farce with a cold eye, a mocking smile playing on her lips.

So-called kinship among the gentry, so-called integrity and moral character, proved as fragile as a thin sheet of paper in the face of life and death.

"Take Zheng Langjun down."

He waved his hand, turned around, and walked out of the interrogation room.

The wooden door closed behind him, shutting out the shouts and curses from inside.

Wen He looked up at the iron window at the top of the prison, where a sliver of light shone through and fell on the moss-covered stone wall.

He knew that Jung Yunho's testimony was just the beginning.

These aristocratic families were deeply entrenched, and a single move by them could have far-reaching consequences.

The idea of ​​eliminating the aristocratic clans now seems like wishful thinking; without this group, the aristocratic clans will immediately be replaced by the next batch.

Therefore, Wen He had only one goal: to extort money from them first.

"Young master, isn't this kind of forced interrogation a bit inappropriate?" Zhang Wenxiao greeted him as he came out and asked in a low voice.

"Yes, it's not a good idea, so you can't learn it in the future."

This time, he had no other choice but to do so.

But the thought that the instigator might have no descendants made him somewhat worried.

When we get back, we need to talk to Lao Xu and Lao Huang and discuss how to avoid coercing confessions in the future if possible.

Of course, this excludes dealing with one's own enemies.

Upon leaving prison, Wen He bumped into an acquaintance.

"Minister Liu, what brings you here?"

The man who arrived was Liu Dewei, the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review. Judging from his beaming smile upon seeing him, he must have been waiting for him here on purpose.

"Mr. Wen, have you had a long day?" Liu Dewei asked with a smile.

Wen He stepped forward and bowed: "Serving His Majesty, I dare not say it is hard work."

"Hehe, this matter was caused by those people being unethical, resorting to such despicable means. Even worse, some shamelessly came to me for help. I immediately and resolutely refused, telling them that this matter was beyond my control and that it was entirely your responsibility, magistrate."

Liu Dewei stroked his beard and spoke with righteous indignation.

But Wen He sensed something else in those words.

Is he trying to get something done for him?
"May I ask which families you are referring to, Minister Liu?" Wen He smiled.

Upon hearing this, Liu Dewei knew that the man had understood his meaning, so he said frankly, "Alas, it is truly shameful to say, but he is Wang Hua, the son of my old friend, from the Wang family of Taiyuan. I wonder if you, Wenxianzi, remember him?"

Sure enough.

“I remember, that person is indeed inside.” Wen He nodded.

Upon seeing this, Liu Dewei quickly said, "I watched Wang Hua grow up. Although he is a bit unruly, he would never do anything illegal. He must have been misled. I beg the magistrate to investigate thoroughly."

"Ugh."

Wen He immediately sighed, looking grief-stricken.

"In the previous case of embezzlement of military funds, the Court of Judicial Review provided considerable assistance. I should have released the people immediately as requested by Minister Liu. Unfortunately, this matter is of great importance, especially the heavy loss of wool, which has angered His Majesty. If compensation cannot be made, I have no choice but to let them submit to the law."

Liu Dewei was able to rise to the position of Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, which shows he is a shrewd and capable person.

He immediately understood the meaning behind Wen He's words.

"Compensation is all that's needed?"

"Of course, this matter still needs to be explained to His Majesty, but Zheng is not among them."

Wen He gave Liu Dewei special instructions to prevent him from pleading for Zheng Yunhao in the future.

"It's nature, it's nature."

Liu Dewei nodded repeatedly and said with a smile, "Then I will go and inform my friend."

After saying this, he bowed to Wen He and then left in a hurry.

"Young master, are we really going to let those people go? Wouldn't we have done all this for nothing?" Zhang Wenxiao really couldn't understand Wen He's approach.

Wen He chuckled and said, "Do you really think we can uproot the aristocratic families? Making them bleed a little is enough."

He had originally intended to send someone to deliver the message.

Unexpectedly, Liu Dewei came to our doorstep.

It would be a good opportunity for him to tell those gentry to hurry up and send money.

"Alright, go and get Jung Yunho's confession. I need to go to the palace."

Seeing that it was getting late, Wen He touched her stomach.

The food at the Dali Temple is really bad, so I might as well go to the palace and freeload a meal.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Wenxiao bowed and withdrew.

Not long after, he returned with a confession personally signed by Jung Yunho.

(End of this chapter)