In the Ming Dynasty, I became invincible simply by extracting memories!

Qian Dehou is dead.

The news came three nights later.

"Mr. Shen! Mr. Shen!"

Zhou Kui hurried over to Shen Lian, his expression anxious, and whispered, "Qian Dehou is dead. Lord Wei has ordered that you and Scholar Fang be moved immediately to avoid any further complications."

Upon hearing this, Shen Lian remained calm and composed.

But in my heart I already knew.

What was bound to happen has finally happened.

From the day Qian Dehou was dragged into the imperial prison, his fate was sealed. Whether he could withstand the torture or not, whether he confessed or not—he wouldn't survive. The Yan faction wouldn't let him live. Neither would Xu Jie. And certainly not the Embroidered Uniform Guard. A bookkeeper who knew too many secrets—his very existence was a nuisance to everyone.

Dead people are the safest.

However, the speed at which Yan's faction acted still surprised him. Qian Dehou held the core accounts of Yan's faction's collusion with Japanese pirates, making him the most crucial witness to bring down Yan Shifan. As long as he had a breath left, Yan Shifan's sophistry of "admitting embezzlement but denying collusion with Japanese pirates" would eventually be exposed.

it's good now.

Overnight, the dead had no way to prove their innocence.

When someone dies in the imperial prison, outsiders will only think of torture by the Embroidered Uniform Guard—it's normal for a prisoner to die from being beaten because they couldn't take it. The Embroidered Uniform Guard themselves aren't clean either, so there's no way to investigate this openly.

Like a mute eating bitter melon, unable to express their suffering.

Shen Lian finally couldn't hold back any longer and asked, "Commander Zhou, how exactly did the accountant, Qian Dehou, die?"

Zhou Kui's face showed a hint of helplessness. He sighed and slowly said, "His health had improved a lot in the past two days. Although his limbs were weak and he couldn't move, his spirits were obviously better. Last night, someone brought him food, and he ate it peacefully without any problems. But around midnight, there was suddenly no sound in the room. By the time we noticed, he was already cold."

He paused, lowering his voice even further.

"Blood was flowing from all seven orifices, and his face was bluish-black. His eyes were wide open, as if he had seen something extremely terrifying before he died. His body was curled up like a shrimp, and all ten of his fingers were digging into the cracks in the bricks, with his fingernails flipped up. There were blood streaks all over the ground."

Shen Lian didn't speak.

Zhou Kui continued, "The coroner examined it. Arsenic mixed with Gelsemium elegans. It takes effect quickly, but death is slow. The internal organs feel like they're being stabbed with knives, and the pain lasts until the very last moment." He paused for a moment, "Qian Dehou's leg was already broken, so he couldn't stand up. But before he died, he crawled three feet on the ground, his hand reaching towards the prison door—probably still wanting to cry out for justice."

"But who can hear us?"

Upon hearing this, Shen Lian's heart sank.

An indescribable feeling welled up inside me.

A person lives a short life. When they are born, they cry and shout, surrounded by people all around them. But when they die, they leave quietly, without a sound. Like a worn-out rag, they are tossed aside and forgotten.

This world is truly absurd.

Once a life becomes a pawn in a political struggle, death is the only outcome. The powerful figures in the Ming Dynasty court were always this cold-blooded and ruthless when they fought, showing no mercy whatsoever.

This path of investigating Yan's faction has completely reached a dead end.

Dark as ink.

Fang Xuejian had also heard the news of Qian Dehou's death. Seeing Shen Lian enter, he quickly stood up and asked, "Shen Lian, is Accountant Qian dead? Is it true?"

Shen Lian sat down on the bed and remained silent for a moment.

"Dead. Poisoned."

Fang Xuejian sighed deeply and shook his head: "Such people are pitiful. They served the Yan faction for more than ten years, only to end up crippled and dead." He paused and added, "The Yan faction's scourge on the country and its people is a matter for the court officials to worry about. But to see a member of the Yan faction end up like this is indescribably painful."

Shen Lian glanced at him and said calmly, "You really are kind-hearted."

He paused for a moment, and his tone turned cold.

"But do you know what? Qian Dehou has irrefutable evidence of Yan's faction's collusion with the Japanese pirates. From the day he entered the imperial prison, he was a dead man. With his death, this line of communication was completely severed."

Fang Xuejian was taken aback, then smiled bitterly: "So what if we break off? Even if we don't, what waves can we make? I understand now—you're right, as long as we're out of this prison, we're nothing more than pawns on a chessboard."

Shen Lian didn't reply.

Who in this world isn't a pawn? Yet who doesn't want to be the one making the moves?

However, without Qian Dehou's involvement, the value of these two pieces is greatly reduced.

Fang Xuejian assumed he was tired, so he stopped talking and lay down on his own.

In the darkness, Shen Lian's eyes were clear and bright.

Qian Dehou is dead. The trail has gone cold. But the memories in his mind remain—ledgers, lists, codes, transactions. However, with no one to corroborate them, these things are no longer as valuable as before.

In this world, the lives of ordinary people are as insignificant as grass. The life and death of insignificant people are always as light as dust.

The carriage carrying the prisoners silently stopped at the side gate of the imperial prison in the dead of night.

Shen Lian's eyes were covered by a black cloth. He knew Fang Xuejian was sitting opposite him, but he couldn't see anything and could only rely on his body to feel—the vibration of the wheels rolling over the stone road, the warmth of the horses' breath, and the musty smell of straw in the carriage.

The two of them were jostled around in the dark.

"Shen Lian, where do you think we're going?" Fang Xuejian lowered his voice and spoke quickly. "Left turn. Right turn. Right turn. Left turn. Straight ahead—this time we went straight for quite a while. Then left turn again."

He was memorizing the route.

Since leaving the imperial prison, he has taken at least twelve turns. With each turn, Fang Xuejian's breathing became heavier.

"Stop counting," Shen Lian said.

Fang Xuejian was taken aback: "You... you're counting too?"

"Shut up."

Fang Xuejian became more obedient.

The carriage jolted again, and his head hit the side of the carriage. He groaned and then cowered in the corner, too afraid to move.

Shen Lian closed his eyes, but was silently calculating in his mind.

It's been about 45 minutes since we boarded the carriage. At the speed of the carriage, we should still be within the capital city. The bumps on the stone-paved road aren't too severe, indicating we're traveling on a main road. There are many turns, but the straight-ahead period after each turn is very short—this is because we're winding through alleyways.

This is an old trick used by the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

The method involves transferring people from one place to another, first taking a circuitous route through dozens of turns to completely disorient them. Upon arrival, they won't even know where they are. This serves both to prevent escape and to prevent leaks of information.

The carriage turned another corner. This time, the straight journey took a long time. The road surface changed from stone slabs to dirt, making the ride even more bumpy, and the wheels made a rustling sound as they rolled over the ground.

Shen Lian's original body had this sense of direction in his memories—East City, near the city wall, dirt road, quiet, no hawking sounds. It should be near the granary area, a remote place with few residents, where the Embroidered Uniform Guard had several secret residences.

Fang Xuejian started to get restless again, shuffling his feet on the ground.

"Shen Lian," he lowered his voice even further, "do you think they might kill us?"

"Won't."

How did you know?

"If you wanted to kill him, you would have done it already."

Fang Xuejian thought about it and felt it made sense, so he leaned back.

After a while, he spoke again: "Then tell me, where are they going to take us?"

Shen Lian did not answer.

Wei Liangbi had said that Zhu Xixiao wanted to see him. But the person who came was not Zhu Xixiao, but Zhou Kui. Zhou Kui said that Lord Zhu had changed his mind and said he would be sent first to settle them in before they went over.

Changing your mind? What does that mean?

Was Zhu Xixiao putting on airs? Or was he testing him?

Shen Lian leaned towards the latter. Although Zhu Xixiao had only recently taken command of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, he had spent a long time in the Imperial Guard of the capital and had seen all sorts of monsters and demons. No one would easily believe a "spy" who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere from the imperial prison. He was waiting, waiting for Shen Lian to reveal a flaw himself.

The carriage stopped.

It didn't stop gradually; it stopped suddenly. The horse snorted and pawed the ground with its front hooves.

Someone jumped off the bus.

The car door was pulled open, and the night wind rushed in, carrying the scent of earth and grass. Someone grabbed Shen Lian's arm and pulled him out of the car.

"Slow down," Zhou Kui's voice rang out, "Don't fall."

Shen Lian stood on the ground, his legs a little weak. He hadn't walked much for over twenty days, and his kneecaps were trembling. Someone untied the blindfold from his eyes, and the light was so bright he couldn't open them—several lanterns hung above the door, illuminating the surroundings.

At that very moment—

"There's an assassin!"

Zhou Kui let out a loud shout, his voice exploding in the night sky like thunder.

In the darkness, several streaks of cold light pierced through the air.

Three masked men leaped down from the rooftops on both sides of the alley, their movements as swift as ghosts. Their long swords slashed straight at Shen Lian's face, the blades gleaming coldly in the lantern light.

Shen Lian's pupils suddenly contracted.

He recognized the knives—embroidered spring knives, standard issue for the Imperial Guards. But the newcomer was far faster than an ordinary captain, his attack was deadly, without the slightest hesitation.

A member of Yan's faction? Or... someone else entirely?

In the blink of an eye, the first blade was already upon him.

Shen Lian did not dodge.

Fang Xuejian stood behind him. The weak scholar, who couldn't even kill a chicken, stood there blindfolded, completely unaware of what was happening. If he had simply moved aside, the knife would have struck Fang Xuejian squarely on the head.

"Get down!"

Shen Lian roared, and the muscle memory he had developed in his previous life instantly exploded. He grabbed Fang Xuejian by the collar and slammed him down, throwing Fang Xuejian to the ground, dazed and confused, the black cloth flying off his face.

At the same time, Shen Lian suddenly lowered his waist and hips, and his right arm was held horizontally in front of him to take the blow.

The blade sliced ​​open his sleeve, leaving a bloody gash on his arm. Blood instantly stained his shirt and dripped down his elbow.

He gritted his teeth and didn't utter a sound.

Instead of retreating, he used the force of the blow to lunge forward. His left hand, with its hooked fingers, reached straight for the masked man's wrist—once it touched the skin, he could extract memories and expose the mastermind!

The masked man was clearly taken aback by the fact that this seemingly weak scholar would take the initiative to fight back, and was stunned for a moment.

In that instant, Shen Lian's fingertips touched his sleeve.

Unfortunately, it was just an inch off.

The second strike came like a ghost from the side, striking from an extremely difficult angle. The chilling blade aimed directly at Shen Lian's back, instantly sealing off all escape routes.

Shen Lian's pupils suddenly shrank to needle size.

My heart felt like it stopped for a second, and all the blood in my body froze instantly.

There's nowhere to hide.

Damn it! I miscalculated again!

He didn't even have time to think further; only one thought remained in his mind—it's over. In the end, he had lost this round.

At the critical moment.

"Get out of the way!"

A thunderous roar.

Zhou Kui lunged forward, his large, iron-like hand grabbing Shen Lian by the back of his collar and throwing him backward. Shen Lian was suspended in mid-air, watching helplessly as the blade that should have pierced his back instead slashed viciously into Zhou Kui's left shoulder.

The blade pierced flesh. Blood gushed out.

The blade slashed diagonally down from the shoulder blade, tearing through the satin of the flying fish robe and carving a deep, bone-revealing wound into the flesh. Zhou Kui groaned, his body swaying, but he held on tightly, drawing his short sword from his waist to parry.

"Take Mr. Shen away!"

He roared hoarsely, veins bulging on his forehead, blood streaming down his left shoulder and pooling on the ground.

Everything happens in the blink of an eye.

Shen Lian fell to the ground, landing on his back, the impact making his chest feel tight. He stared at Zhou Kui's swaying yet unyielding figure, his mind blank—he couldn't understand. Why would a mere Jinyiwei commander risk his life to save him?

The remaining officers and flag bearers of the Embroidered Uniform Guard finally reacted and drew their swords to meet the attack. Seeing the situation was not good, the three masked men made a feint and then disappeared into the night.

Fang Xuejian scrambled to his feet, his face ashen, his legs trembling uncontrollably. He staggered to Shen Lian's side, grabbed his sleeve, and cried out in a trembling voice, "You...you're bleeding from your arm! Why...why didn't you dodge?"

Shen Lian looked down at the wound on his arm.

Blood dripped from his elbow onto the ground, causing excruciating pain. He ignored Fang Xuejian and squatted down to look at Zhou Kui, who was lying on the ground severely injured.

Zhou Kui's left shoulder was soaked in blood. His flying fish robe had turned dark red, blood was still gushing out, his face was as white as paper, and his lips were blue.

"Why did you save me?" Shen Lian asked in a deep voice.

Zhou Kui, panting, grinned.

A smile, the meaning of which was hard to decipher, appeared on his rugged face. He spoke, his voice weak, yet each word clear—

"I was quite surprised when I first saw your name 'Shen Lian'. Lord Zhongmin, Lord Shen Lian, is also called Shen Lian."

Shen Lian's pupils suddenly contracted.

He knew who Zhou Kui was talking about.

Shen Lian, a man of Qingxia Mountain, was a staunch and unyielding member of the Imperial Guard. He was upright and hated evil. He once submitted a memorial impeaching Yan Song and his son for ten crimes, for which he was flogged and demoted to Bao'an Prefecture. Even in exile, he continued to vehemently denounce the Yan family, ultimately incurring the deep hatred of Yan Shifan, who framed him for treason and murdered him at the young age of fifty-one.

Zhou Kui glanced around, then lowered his voice and said slowly, "When I was young, my family suffered a calamity, and it was thanks to the kindness of Lord Shen Lian that my family was saved. My life was given to me by Lord Shen. I will remember this kindness for the rest of my life."

He coughed, and blood foam seeped from the corner of his mouth.

"So when I met you—also called 'Shen Lian'—and you had such courage and insight, able to see through the big picture of the court and expose the true strength and weakness of the Yan faction—I had already made up my mind. This is God giving Shen Lian another chance to live."

"I don't have any great abilities," Zhou Kui's voice grew weaker and weaker. "I just wanted to fight for your survival. You should live. I've said what needed to be said and done what needed to be done."

He paused for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter.

"Mr. Shen, I'm sorry about what happened with Scholar Fang. I thinned the mulberry paper by three-tenths."

Shen Lian fell silent.

He finally understood. Zhou Kui seemed rough and impulsive, but he was actually shrewd beneath his rough exterior. What he harbored in his heart was a deep-seated hatred. The reason why Zhou Kui had previously allowed him to pass on messages and helped him mediate was because of this.

Shen Lian would never forget the life-saving kindness shown to him.

This also made him even more certain—in this game, he wasn't just living for himself, but also for the loyal souls of his past and present lives.

Zhou Kui's blood was still flowing, soaking half of his body. But his eyes were still bright.

"Commander Zhou," Shen Lian said, supporting him, each word distinct, "Hold on. I'll remember your life."

Zhou Kui grinned, revealing his teeth stained red with blood.

"Whether you remember or not... it doesn't matter. As long as you're alive."