57

Then, Qingchen ordered his men to take the father and daughter to a "torture chamber" in the old town mayor's house.

He looked around, a cold smile playing on his lips. "It's truly baffling. They'll both eventually reveal the truth, so why are people so despicable? Why insist on suffering first?

You think you two are tough guys, born of hardship, with bones of iron? You two should be familiar with this place, right? I think you're just made of porcelain."

Upon receiving the order, two thugs pushed the old town mayor forward. The wires on the iron frame were already scorching hot.

As soon as they pressed the old town mayor's arm onto the frame, a "sizzle" was heard. Skin pressed against the hot iron, and the old town mayor groaned in pain, his forehead instantly covered in cold sweat.

The wires dug into his shoulder, blood dripping down the frame and forming small puddles on the ground.

Chen Zhu'er, being carried by two other thugs, stumbled the moment her feet touched the ground.

Her outer skirt had been ripped to shreds by the flying sword, leaving only a white silk undergarment, the fabric so thin that the whip marks on her body were visible.

The thugs tied her wrists to iron hooks above her head, and with a pull of the rope, she was suspended in the air.

Wearing pale yellow cloud-walking shoes, she appeared exceptionally frail and helpless.

Qing Chen didn't rush to torture her. Instead, he took out a small jade bottle from his robes and poured out some pale green ointment.

He walked to Chen Zhu'er, dipped his fingertip in the ointment, and gently applied it to her body.

"A cultivator's body heals quickly, but it can't withstand this kind of torture. I'll treat you first; even if it hurts a little more later, you won't die."

The ointment was indeed effective; in less than half an hour, the redness and swelling on Chen Zhu'er's body had subsided somewhat.

However, the fear in her heart grew heavier, her suspended body trembling uncontrollably, unable to look at Qing Chen's face.

"Still no one speaking?" Qing Chen straightened up, clapped his hands, and his tone suddenly turned cold. "Continue."

The thugs standing nearby had been waiting. The iron clamps in their hands clicked, and they quickly walked to Chen Zhu'er, clamping her leg between them.

The iron teeth dug deep into her flesh. Chen Zhu'er shuddered in pain, and just as she was about to scream, another thug lashed out with a whip!

The whip was wrapped with coarse salt. The tip struck her back with a sharp "crack," and salt grains embedded themselves in her skin, causing tears to instantly stream down her face.

"Crack! Ah!"

"Ah! Stop hitting me!" Chen Zhu'er's screams echoed through the torture chamber, sending chills down everyone's spines.

Her undergarments were quickly soaked with blood, and the whip marks on her back piled up one after another.

The thugs standing nearby had a strange glint in their eyes, as if they wanted to brand every inch of Chen Zhu'er's skin into their gaze.

The old mayor struggled desperately on the iron frame, shouting, "Stop! Come at me!"

Qingchen, however, seemed not to hear him. He walked up to the old mayor, bent down, and looked him in the eye: "This is your last chance."

He pointed to the seven or eight thugs beside him, their eyes filled with greed, fixed intently on Chen Zhu'er.

"If you still don't talk, then the punishment that follows will be quite interesting. I'll leave you in this torture chamber, and these seven or eight constables will also stay here. As for what they want to do to your daughter, I don't care."

Hearing Qingchen's words, the old town mayor seemed to have all his strength drained away, his entire being slumped.

He looked into the eyes of the thugs, then glanced at his daughter, hanging in mid-air, her face deathly pale.

He had originally thought that if his daughter could escape, perhaps he could get help from the Xu family and have a chance to turn the tide.

But he never expected Qingchen to be so ruthless, using his apprentice to provoke his daughter into revealing herself, ultimately causing her to fall into Qingchen's clutches.

Watching his daughter suffer on the rack, the old town mayor's heart was breaking.

He regretted underestimating Qingchen, regretted not choosing suicide to end it all.

"I...I'll talk."

The old mayor's voice suddenly softened, his head drooping limply. "But you have to promise me. If I tell you, I don't expect you to let me leave alive, I just beg you to spare my daughter's life."

Qing Chen's lips curled into a cold smile. "At this point, do you still have the right to make demands?"

The old mayor took a deep breath, closed his eyes, his voice filled with exhaustion: "Ten years ago, there was an outer disciple of the Ningxuan Sect named Deng Zhiping..."

Qing Chen's ears twitched. An outer disciple?

"That Deng Zhiping has a low-grade spiritual root. He couldn't make it in the sect, so he came to the sea to kill demonic beasts and collect spirit stones."

The old town chief's voice slowly deepened, as if recalling the past. "He often stopped by Huangzhu Island to rest, and over time, we became acquainted. He said he'd kill one more rock-armored crab, collect enough spirit stones, and then return to the sect."

Qingchen knew about rock-armored crabs; they were low-grade first-tier demonic beasts with incredibly hard shells, excellent material for refining low-grade defensive magic weapons, indeed worth a considerable amount of spirit stones.

"But that rock-armored crab is about to break through to the middle-grade first tier, stronger than he thought."

The old town chief's voice carried a hint of complexity. "Deng Zhiping fought it and was severely injured, forced to burn his essence blood to escape.

He didn't dare seek help from the island's resident cultivators, so he came to me, asking me to find him a quiet room to heal. He even taught me some basic cultivation techniques, saying it could help me reach the early Qi Refining stage."

"Isn't he afraid you'll betray him?" Qingchen interjected.

“He thought mortals were like ants, and even if I got hurt, I wouldn’t dare do anything,” the old mayor chuckled self-deprecatingly. “But he didn’t expect I would poison him.”

Qingchen’s eyes brightened. This old man was ruthless enough.

“I put poisonous smoke in the quiet room and also poured mercury into it.” The old mayor’s voice trailed off:

“Deng Zhiping was caught off guard and died in the secret room. I got his belongings, but I don’t have spiritual roots, so I can’t open those jade boxes or practice his techniques.”

He glanced at Chen Zhu’er: “Later, by chance, I discovered that Zhu’er had a low-grade spiritual root and could practice Deng Zhiping’s techniques. So I hid those belongings and let Zhu’er practice them secretly, thinking that if she could achieve immortality, our Chen family could rise above it all…”