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

Shen Lian didn't sleep all night.

The cell was dark, with only a sliver of light filtering through the iron bars of an oil lamp hanging at the far end of the corridor. Fang Xuejian huddled in a corner, snoring intermittently, occasionally muttering something unintelligible in his sleep.

Shen Lian leaned against the wall, his mind racing.

He was processing the information he had gleaned from Wei Liangbi's memories.

The amount of information was overwhelming. Wei Liangbi had worked in the Northern Garrison for over twenty years, and all the cases he had handled, the people he had met, and the secret talks he had participated in had flooded into Shen Lian's mind, as if an entire archive had been crammed into it.

These memories are so vivid, as if I had experienced them firsthand. Every face, every tone of voice, every word on every document—everything is crystal clear.

But there is a problem.

My head hurts a lot.

More than three hours have passed since Shen Lian touched Wei Liangbi, and his temples are throbbing, his head is throbbing with pain. He had felt pain when he touched Fang Xuejian and Zhou Kui before, but not this badly.

He roughly figured out a pattern.

The greater the amount of memory the other person possesses, the heavier the burden after extraction. Fang Xuejian had only been in the past for four months, so his total memory was limited, and he only experienced slight dizziness after extraction. Zhou Kui, having served as a member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard for twenty years, had a significantly larger amount of information, and his headache lasted for about half an hour. Wei Liangbi, having worked in a core position in the Northern Garrison for over twenty years, possessed a far greater density and complexity of memory than the previous two, and he still hadn't recovered.

This cheat code comes at a price.

He also discovered another limitation—retrieved memories cannot be searched at will like flipping through a book. Most memories are clear when they are first retrieved, but if they are not actively recalled and organized, they will begin to blur over time, fading like a dream.

That's why he didn't sleep all night, constantly going over and solidifying those key pieces of information in his mind.

This ability must never be known to anyone.

Including Fang Xuejian.

Shen Lian understood this perfectly well. He was currently imprisoned in the Imperial Prison, surrounded by the Embroidered Uniform Guard; the consequences of any secret being leaked would be fatal. Moreover, once this ability was exposed, everyone would see him as a threat—who would want someone who could uncover their secrets with a mere touch by their side?

This trump card is only valuable if kept to yourself.

As dawn broke, a hazy light shone through the vents.

Fang Xuejian woke up with a yawn, rubbed his eyes and sat up. He was stunned to see Shen Lian still leaning against the wall in the same position as last night.

"You didn't sleep all night?"

"I can't sleep."

Fang Xuejian remained silent for a few seconds, then moved to sit next to Shen Lian and lowered his voice.

"There's something I've been thinking about all night, and I can't sleep soundly until I ask it."

Shen Lian glanced at him.

"Are you... just like me?" Fang Xuejian asked vaguely, but his meaning was clear.

Shen Lian had long anticipated this problem.

From Fang Xuejian's memories, he had a complete understanding of this person. The identity of the person from Chizhou Prefecture was inherited by the original body after transmigrating. In his previous life, he was a master of chemical engineering from a 985 university. He had a carefree personality but no bad intentions. He did not break down after being locked up in prison for three months. Instead, he thought about how to make glass and gunpowder every day. He had a very strong mental resilience.

More importantly, during his three months in prison, Fang Xuejian never revealed his identity as a transmigrator to anyone. Whether he was beaten by the prison guards or tested by his fellow inmates, he didn't utter a single word.

This person can keep a secret.

But keeping a secret is one thing; whether or not he should know about the ability to extract memories is another.

Shen Lian decided to admit his identity as a transmigrator, but he didn't mention a word about his cheat ability.

"You guessed right," Shen Lian said.

Fang Xuejian felt as if he had been electrocuted, and his pupils suddenly dilated.

"I knew it!" His voice was low but extremely excited. "You're completely different since you woke up. You know everything about the Jiajing era—you studied history?"

"Graduate student, direction of Ming history."

Fang Xuejian let out a long breath, and his whole body visibly relaxed.

"Damn it." His voice trembled. "Do you know what it feels like to be locked up in this jail for three months without a single person to talk to? I thought I was the only one who had transmigrated here, and that I was going to die in this godforsaken place."

His eyes reddened slightly, but he quickly turned his head away and wiped them with his sleeve.

Shen Lian didn't say anything, waiting for him to calm down on his own.

After a while, Fang Xue turned around and returned to normal.

"Alright, let's discuss this carefully." His tone became much more serious. "How long can your story about having a molestation on your end yesterday hold up?"

"Five to seven days at most," Shen Lian said. "Wei Liangbi will send someone to Shexian to verify the list of informants. It will be an urgent trip, taking about six to eight days round trip. Once the reply arrives, confirming my name isn't on the list, the whole story will fall apart."

"What should we do then?"

"Make yourself indispensable before that."

"How can it be considered indispensable?"

"Provide them with information they don't have," Shen Lian said, "and continuously. Make them feel that even if my identity as an undercover agent is questionable, killing me would be a losing proposition."

Fang Xuejian thought for a moment: "How much information do you still have about the Yan Song case in your head?"

"I know the whole story of Yan Song's downfall—who impeached him, when they impeached him, what charges were used, and how the case was finally decided. But I can't just dump all this information at once; I have to feed them little by little, so they always feel like I still have something to say."

"Squeeze toothpaste."

"almost."

Fang Xuejian nodded, then suddenly thought of something.

"Those details you mentioned yesterday—Liu Sanqiu's missing little finger on his left hand, the transshipment at Zhangjiawan Wharf—were these also mentioned in your thesis?"

This is a crucial question.

Shen Lian's face remained expressionless.

"Some of it is from my thesis, and some I jotted down while looking through archives," he said. "As a graduate student specializing in Ming history, I've read a lot of primary historical materials from the Jiajing era—local gazetteers, memorials, cabinet notices, excerpts from the Jinyiwei (Imperial Guard) archives—and made many fragmented notes."

This explanation is entirely valid. Fang Xuejian, being a chemical engineering major, was not familiar with the specific procedures of historical academic research and could not possibly determine which information could be found in Ming Dynasty archives and which could not.

In reality, the intelligence Shen Lian provided came from three sources: first, his academic accumulation from his previous life; second, internal information about the Embroidered Uniform Guard extracted from Zhou Kui's memories; and third, core secrets obtained from Wei Liangbi's memories. However, in front of Fang Xuejian, he attributed all the information to "historical research from his previous life," presenting it cleanly and concisely, leaving no room for doubt.

Fang Xuejian didn't press for details and moved on to the next question.

"So what are your plans next? How long can you rely on Yan Song's information alone?"

"The Yan Song case is just the foundation; I need new sources of intelligence," Shen Lian said. "You spent three months in prison, interacting frequently with the guards. Did you hear any useful information?"

Fang Xuejian scratched his head and began to recall.

"You know what, there's a bit of that," he lowered his voice. "About two weeks ago, a jailer named Li—the bastard who always kicks me—was chatting with another jailer, saying that the Imperial Prison had recently received a new batch of high-ranking prisoners, escorted from Nanjing, and were being held in cell number D. The guards there are two ranks higher than the ordinary prisoners."

Shen Lian's heart stirred.

He had already seen this message in Fang Xuejian's memory, but he had to pretend it was the first time he was hearing it.

"Anything else?"

"Another jailer surnamed Zhao let slip during his shift change that Commander Zhao Yan has recently been getting very close to a big shot from the capital. That big shot's surname is Xu."

His surname is Xu.

Shen Lian's heart sank slightly.

From Wei Liangbi's memory, he knew that there was only one important figure with the surname Xu in the current court—Xu Jie, the Second Grand Secretary. Xu Jie was Yan Song's biggest political enemy and the mastermind behind Yan Song's downfall.

If Zhao Yan, a commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, had dealings with Xu Jie's men, it would indicate that Xu Jie had already begun laying the groundwork within the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

This matches historical records.

Before Yan Song's downfall, Xu Jie spent a great deal of effort infiltrating the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Eastern Depot to ensure that these powerful figures would not side with Yan Song at crucial moments.

"Is there anything else?" Shen Lian asked.

Fang Xuejian thought for a moment, then said, "I heard from the prison guards the other day that they were investigating an internal mole and demanding everyone re-register. The reason is unclear, but the atmosphere was very tense those days; even the way they served food was worse than usual."

Shen Lian quickly connected these pieces of information in his mind.

The Nanjing criminals in cell number D, the relationship between Commander Zhao Yan and Xu Jie, and the internal investigation of traitors within the Imperial Prison—these three pieces of information point to one possibility: the Embroidered Uniform Guard is preparing for the Yan Song case, and its internal structure is not monolithic; some people rely on Yan Song, some on Xu Jie, and some are hedging their bets.

This is chaos.

For Shen Lian, chaos is an opportunity.

In an environment where everyone is choosing sides and everyone is afraid of choosing the wrong side, the value of someone who possesses a wealth of intelligence is amplified infinitely. This is because every side wants to know what the opponent is doing, and Shen Lian can act as that information node.

The premise is that he can obtain more intelligence.

"Do you know the jailer in cell number T?" Shen Lian asked.

"I've met them, but we're not close. There's an older one surnamed Sun, he walks with a slight limp, but he's fairly easy to talk to. There's also a younger one, he has a mole on his face, I don't know his name. They pass by our doorway when they change shifts."

"When?"

"Once each day at 5 AM and 5 PM."

"How far away were you from the iron fence when you passed by?"

Fang Xuejian gestured: "About an arm's length."

Shen Lian frowned. An arm's length away, separated by iron railings, they shouldn't be able to touch each other under normal circumstances.

He needs to create an opportunity for the other party to get closer.

"You said before that the person surnamed Sun was relatively easy to talk to. How easy was he?"

Fang Xuejian thought for a moment: "Once I had a high fever, and that old man Sun brought me an extra bowl of hot water and told me not to sleep on the stone slab at night."

"When he passes by our door, could you stop him and chat for a bit?"

Fang Xuejian gradually understood what Shen Lian wanted to do.

"You want to get information about the 'Ding' code from him?"

"Yes," Shen Lian said. "I need to know what cases those prisoners in Case D are involved in, how far the interrogation has progressed, and whether they've revealed any crucial information. This intelligence is vital for my future self-preservation."

That's the truth. But it's not the whole story.

Shen Lian's real plan was to take advantage of Fang Xuejian's conversation with the prison guard surnamed Sun to find a suitable opportunity to have physical contact with that guard. Even if it was just for a moment, he could extract all the information about cell number D from the guard's memory.

But he wouldn't tell Fang Xuejian this.

In Fang Xuejian's view, Shen Lian was just trying to get information out of him through conventional means, which was perfectly reasonable and would not arouse any suspicion.

"No problem." Fang Xuejian patted his chest. "I'll give it a try when we change shifts at 5 PM today. Old Sun is a proud man; a few compliments will make him happy."

"Don't be too deliberate," Shen Lian instructed. "Just treat it as casual conversation, asking around to find out what's been happening in the imperial prison lately. Remember, don't bring up the 'Ding' designation yourself; let him tell you."

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing." Fang Xuejian's expression was very serious.

Shen Lian looked at him and nodded slightly.

Fang Xuejian is a person with good execution skills; he just needs someone to point him in the right direction. He spent three months in prison wandering around like a headless fly because no one helped him clarify his thoughts. Now that he has a clear goal, his motivation to act has quickly increased.

The sound of metal clanging came from the end of the corridor; it was the prison guards bringing food.

Unlike yesterday's plain steamed buns, today's meal included two bowls of hot porridge and a dish of pickled vegetables.

Food and other necessities have been upgraded—Wei Liangbi's order has taken effect.

Fang Xuejian picked up the bowl and wolfed down the porridge. He had been eating plain steamed buns for three months, so this bowl of porridge was like a Manchu Han Imperial Feast to him.

Shen Lian also picked up his bowl and took a sip.

The porridge was very thin, you could count the grains of rice on one hand, and the pickled vegetables were so salty they tasted bitter. But at least it was hot, and after it went down my throat, my body finally felt a little warm.

He needs to recover his strength as soon as possible.

The next few days were a period of power struggle between him and the entire Northern Garrison of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Every step must be taken carefully.

Shen Lian put down the bowl, leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes.

I started mentally planning what to do at 5 PM today.

He had to encounter the jailer surnamed Sun without revealing anything unusual.

You only get one chance.