Late Ming Dynasty: Summoning players from Liaodong to support the Ming Dynasty

The wind on the city wall seems never to stop.

The dark, heavy weapon of war still lay silently in its place, surrounded by a few tech-savvy gamers, fiercely debating "science" that ordinary people couldn't understand.

Lu Jian ignored the cannon and the madmen.

He simply followed Chu Ze in silence as they descended the entirely gray-white city wall.

The guards behind him, their faces grim, never loosened their grip on their sword hilts. Following their commander, their footsteps echoed dull, suppressed "tap, tap" on the hard concrete pavement.

After passing through the still bustling square and around the colossal blast furnace that was spewing black smoke, Chu Ze did not take them to any conspicuous places.

He eventually stopped in an extremely inconspicuous corner.

Here stands a dilapidated woodshed, forlornly nestled beside several abandoned barracks. The door is askew, and a few bundles of damp firewood are piled in the corner, emitting a musty, rotten smell.

"This is it."

Chu Ze stopped in his tracks, his voice calm.

Lu Jian stopped in his tracks. He didn't ask any questions, but instead used his eyes, which had witnessed countless sinister cases, to quickly scan the dilapidated house.

There is an inconspicuous engraving on the door hinge.

The third brick in the corner is a slightly newer color than the ones next to it.

Under the eaves, a spider web hangs at an angle that does not conform to the normal wind direction.

These seemingly insignificant details, in the eyes of an ordinary person, form an incredibly clear intelligence network map in the eyes of a top-notch secret agent.

"What a well-hidden hideout." Lu Jian's voice was hoarse. He looked around; the city was bustling with people, noisy and chaotic, and no one would notice this forgotten corner. His gaze swept across the room and locked onto a barely visible engraving on the door hinge and a brick in the corner that was slightly different in color. "A spy from the Later Jin?"

"It's not just spies." Chu Ze pushed open the creaking wooden door and went inside. "It's their leader here. During the siege of Guangning, all military intelligence and troop movements within the city were sent out from here."

The woodshed was empty, except for an even stronger musty smell.

"You've caught him?" Lu Jian followed him inside. One of the guards behind him had already skillfully pried open the new brick from the corner of the wall and pulled out a small paper tube that was tightly wrapped in oil paper but was empty.

"Got him." Chu Ze nodded.

"What kind of torture was used?" Lu Jian's question was direct and professional.

As the Vice Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard and one of the heads of the Northern Garrison Prison, he knew better than anyone the cruel methods required to pry open the mouth of a rigorously trained spy chief. Skinning, tendon removal, burning alive... he had personally witnessed and ordered the execution of those tortures that could break any tough man in the world.

Chu Ze laughed.

He shook his head.

"I did not use torture."

One sentence caused Lu Jian and all the guards behind him to pause for a moment.

No punishment?

Lu Jian turned to Chu Ze, and for the first time, undisguised suspicion appeared on his cold and stern face.

That's impossible.

To deal with such suicide soldiers is to be merciful; it is foolish.

Just then, a player with the ID "Professional Lockpicker" crept over furtively. His eyes gleamed as he stared at the pried-open brick: "Holy crap! A hidden treasure chest? Bro, what quest did you trigger? Are there any items inside?"

Before he could finish speaking, Wang Erniu's large, fan-like hand had already grabbed him by the back of his collar and tossed him aside like a tattered sack: "Get lost! General Chu is handling business, go cool off somewhere else!"

The player rolled on the ground, got up, dusted himself off, and muttered, "Damn it, what's wrong with touching it? There's not even a copper coin in this broken brick, bad review!"

Lu Jian ignored the farce and kept his eyes fixed on Chu Ze.

"Torture is the worst way to deal with intelligent people." Chu Ze's tone remained calm. He seemed not to notice Lu Jian's doubts as he turned and walked out of the woodshed. "Physical suffering will only make him feel like a martyred hero."

He paused, his voice drifting through the cold wind.

"Make him believe that everything he is loyal to is meaningless."

"Let him watch with his own eyes as the beliefs he protects are crushed into dust and turned to ashes."

Chu Ze's voice was soft, yet it sent a chill down the spines of Lu Jian and the guards behind him.

"This is true despair."

Chu Ze didn't explain further, but led them through several muddy alleys toward the gloomy dungeon in the city.

The entrance to the dungeon was like a festering wound on the city's body, constantly oozing cold and dampness.

The torchlight cast long, distorted shadows of the group onto the moss-covered stone wall. With each step they took down the wall, the stench—a mixture of mold, excrement, and rotting hay—intensified, making their heads ache.

A young imperial guard couldn't help but cover his mouth and nose with his sleeve, complaining in a low voice to his companion, "This smell... is even stronger than the water prison in our Northern Garrison."

"Shut up." A more mature-looking guard in front of him didn't turn his head, his voice extremely low. "Listen carefully, and learn from him."

This stands in stark contrast to the vibrant, energetic world outside. One is creating, the other is decaying.

In a cell deep inside the dungeon, they found that person.

An old Taoist priest wearing a tattered robe.

He huddled in a corner covered with moldy hay, emaciated and with greasy, gray hair plastered to his scalp. He exuded an aura of impending death. His ankles were chained, the other end nailed to the wall. Apart from that, there was not a single other mark on his body.

He didn't even notice anyone coming in; he just stared intently at a spiderweb in the corner of the cell ceiling with his cloudy eyes, his lips moving silently as if he were muttering something.

Lu Jian's gaze swept over him, and his brows furrowed slightly.

There were no wounds, no bloodstains, and all four limbs were intact.

But when he heard footsteps, his gaze slowly moved down and finally settled on Chu Ze, who was walking at the front, his already lifeless face suddenly twisted.

That wasn't anger, that wasn't hatred.

That's something more primitive and pure.

It's like a mouse seeing the cat that once toyed with it and then let it go.

A pure fear that penetrated to the bone and almost crushed his entire soul!

"Uh...ah..."

A wild, incoherent whimper escaped his throat, his teeth chattering. He scrambled backward, his back slamming heavily against the cold stone wall with a dull thud, oblivious to his struggle to squeeze himself into the shadows of the corner.

It was as if Chu Ze's shadow was some kind of evil spirit from the deepest hell; anyone who touched it would be annihilated.

Lu Jian and the guards behind him fell silent.

They are all experts.

What kind of tough guys hadn't they seen in the imperial prison? Mongol spies who could still curse endlessly even after being skinned alive and having their tendons pulled out; White Lotus sect assassins who remained silent even after being branded all over with hot irons. They'd seen far too much.

But in those people's eyes, there was hatred, madness, and a sense of relief.

The only thing I haven't experienced is this kind of fear, where I don't even dare to hate, and all that's left is a groveling, begging-for-favor mentality.

This is... a sign of a completely destroyed will.

But why is there no injury on his body?

"I didn't hit him, I didn't scold him, and I never let him go hungry."

Chu Ze's voice echoed softly in the dungeon. He didn't look at the old Taoist priest, but spoke to Lu Jian as if he were introducing an exhibit.

"I just...gave him a tour."

"I took him to see our newly built city wall. I let him touch the cement, which is harder than steel."

"I took him to see our blast furnace. I let him see with his own eyes how the molten iron, flowing like lava, is continuously refined into refined steel."

"I took him to see our newly reclaimed farmland. I told him that the miraculous seeds planted there yielded thousands of catties per mu, enough to ensure that there would be no more starving people in the entire Liaodong region."

With each sentence Chu Ze spoke, the old Taoist priest in the corner of the cell would twitch violently.

Those words, every single one, were like a red-hot steel needle, piercing deep into his already broken nerves.

Finally, Chu Ze turned around and met Lu Jian's gaze.

"Finally, I took him to see my 'heavenly soldier'."

"I made him watch as a heavenly soldier who had been cut in half at the waist reappeared before him, alive and kicking, half an hour later, complaining about how bad the food was at the resurrection point."

"I made him watch as a headless celestial soldier turned into a beam of white light, then walked out of the city's resurrection point, cursing and swearing as he went to the blacksmith's shop to repair his chipped sword."

The dungeon fell into a deathly silence.

The only sound is the crackling of a burning torch.

Lu Jian stood still, motionless.

He didn't look at the old Taoist priest who was so frightened he was about to faint; he just looked at Chu Ze.

Looking at this young man with a calm smile on his face.

The Imperial Prison of the Northern Garrison Command was known as a living hell. There, flesh and blood would be stripped away, bones would be crushed, and human dignity would be trampled into the dirtiest mud. Lu Jian had seen tough men cry out under the branding iron, and he had seen suicide soldiers collapse in excruciating pain.

But that was ultimately an external force.

It is with pain as a hammer that we smash open the hard shell called "will".

And what's in front of me...

Lu Jian's gaze fell back on the old Taoist priest who was huddled in the corner, not daring to even look up.

This is no longer human.

This is an empty shell, stripped of its backbone, leaving only fear.

In the dead silence of the dungeon, an untimely sound of footsteps approached from afar. A player with the ID "Cure Athlete's Foot" peeked in, holding a torch in his hand.

"Damn, this place is pretty creepy. Hey? Is this old man a quest NPC? He seems to have a story to tell, maybe there's some hidden plot clue?"

As he spoke, he actually wanted to go over and poke the old Taoist priest.

"Get lost!"

Wang Erniu had followed them down at some point and kicked the player in the butt, making him stumble.

"If the general is on duty and you keep loitering around like this, I'll break your legs!"

The player wasn't angry. He got up, dusted himself off, and muttered, "Why are you being so fierce? I was just asking. What if I got a legendary gold item...?"

He muttered something as he walked away.

This farce did not ease the atmosphere in the dungeon in the slightest; on the contrary, it added to the eerie absurdity.

Lu Jian finally spoke slowly, his voice dry and hoarse, like two stones rubbing together.

"In the prison of the Northern Garrison Command, there is no mouth that cannot be pried open."

He paused, his gaze sharp as a knife, scraping across Chu Ze's face.

"But what kind of approach is this?"

"Lord Lu is mistaken." Chu Ze shook his head, his smile unchanged. "Pain only breeds lies and martyrs. When people are in extreme pain, they will say anything in order to find relief. The truth and the falsehood are mixed together and difficult to distinguish. Those with a firm will will regard torture as an honor and see themselves as martyrs."

He walked to the cell door, looked at the trembling figure inside, and spoke as softly as a breeze.

"What I want is not his confession."

Chu Ze turned around and met Lu Jian's gaze. His unfathomable eyes reflected the firelight and Lu Jian's cold, stern face.

"What I want is his soul."

"I want him to believe from the bottom of his heart that everything he fought for, everything he sacrificed, the Great Jin Dynasty he believed in, and the Khan he revered, were nothing but a joke that could be easily punctured in the face of true 'destiny'."

"When a person's beliefs are completely crushed and trampled into mud, to the point that even they themselves find it laughable..."

Chu Ze walked back to Lu Jian and pointed at the old Taoist priest.

"He will no longer be a spy for the Later Jin."

"He is now my best pen."

"A pen... capable of writing each and every stroke of Amin's two thousand white-armed barbarians into their graves."

It completely crushes a person's faith at its root, turning him from a steadfast martyr into a pitiful creature who sees the future clearly but is powerless to change it and can only sink into endless despair!

"When a person is convinced that everything he is loyal to is doomed to perish, his faith collapses."

Chu Ze's voice, like the whisper of a devil, echoed in Lu Jian's ears.

"Then, I gave him a choice."

A cold smile curved Chu Ze's lips.

"Deliver me the information I want to deliver in exchange for his and his family's lives."

"He was smart and made the only right choice."

Lu Jian's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

He thought of himself.

I recalled everything I had seen and heard along the way.

Those impregnable city walls, that endless supply of fine steel, those incredible cannons, that fearless, resurrected legion…

If it were him, and Chu Ze "visited" him in this way, could he still maintain his loyalty to the Ming Dynasty and to the emperor far away in the capital?

he does not know.

The thought only flashed through his mind for a moment, but it sent chills down his spine!

This is a fear that only those in the same profession can understand.

For the first time, Lu Jian felt a sense of unease about the vast empire he served.

It wasn't because of the strength of the Later Jin, but because of the god-like and demonic methods that Chu Ze displayed, which were capable of manipulating people's hearts!

If he could use this method to deal with the spies of the Later Jin, he could certainly use it to deal with the loyal ministers of the Ming Dynasty.

This man is a thousand times more terrifying than the tens of thousands of iron cavalry of the Later Jin!

He was a true ruthless and powerful figure!

Chu Ze seemed oblivious to the changing expression on Lu Jian's face. He simply turned around and walked out of the dungeon.

"Once the fish takes the bait on its own and willingly swims in the direction I've prepared for it, the rest is much simpler."

His voice came from the front, carrying the composure and calmness of a chess player after making a move.

Lu Jian suddenly came to his senses and followed.

The guards behind him also seemed to wake from a dream and hurriedly followed, no one looking back at the old Taoist priest who was curled up in the darkness and had completely become a walking corpse.

Stepping out of the dungeon, they were once again bathed in the pale sunlight, enveloped by the clamor of the human world.

But Lu Jian felt that the sunlight was colder than the darkness in the dungeon.

He stared at the dark figure walking ahead, and only one thought remained in his mind.

False information.

The false intelligence that Amin believed so readily, ultimately sending two thousand elite white-armored soldiers into the abyss, came from the hands of this cunning old fox who had been thoroughly outmaneuvered!

This is a conspiracy.

A deadly trap designed entirely by Chu Ze from beginning to end, with each step meticulously planned and executed, taking human nature to the extreme!

"Let's go, Lord Lu."

Chu Ze's voice interrupted Lu Jian's thoughts.

He stopped, turned around, and his humble smile returned to his face.

"The bait has been cast, and the fish have been caught in the net."

"Now, I should take you to see the final 'fishing ground'."

"Go and see where those two thousand white-armored warriors who served the Great Jin Dynasty died."