Xuanqing Guard

When the woman was subjected to interrogation, Shen Hao truly couldn’t bring himself to watch. Was it old-fashioned beliefs? Or simply a lack of exposure, making it unfamiliar?

On the contrary, those executioners were all grinning as if it were a holiday. One by one, dusty torture devices were dragged out from the pile of miscellaneous items in the corners—perhaps a rare chance for them to actually be put to use.

A thick hemp rope, coarse as a child’s arm and covered in bristles, was brought out. This was also a kind of torture device, made specially for female prisoners. One wonders if the inventor of such a thing died without their body intact...

All things considered, Qin Yurou could be called tough. Three minor tortures, one major, fainting twice in the middle, and finally, it wasn’t until the second round of major torture that she loosened her tongue.

Once hope vanishes and it’s clear that death isn’t the worst fate, confessing becomes exceptionally easy.

"Sir, here is the confession, already signed and fingerprinted. Do you wish to have the prisoner locked up now?"

Shen Hao left the interrogation chamber right after that rope was brought out. He still wasn’t used to witnessing scenes of excessive brutality, feeling nauseated to the point of retching.

He took the confession handed to him by his executioners, leafed through it roughly, then said, "Have Wang Yiming make several stamped copies, and hand the original to him for archiving. Notify everyone: before dawn, all members of the Qin Family main branch must have their confessions recorded. Also, don’t be too rough with Qin Wenhe; chances are, he won’t remain in our custody for long."

"Understood, I’ll spread the word immediately."

Watching his men leave, Shen Hao felt an immediate sense of relief wash over him.

At this point, the case—complicated by Qin Yurou’s scheming and twists of fate—had finally materialized, resulting in a three-way power struggle between the Civil Servant Group, Prince Shou, and the Xuanqing Guard. The rest was no more than the final case files and the Temple Hall’s ultimate judgment of ’victory or defeat.’

For days, Shen Hao appeared calm and collected, but the pressure he endured was far greater than anyone could imagine. He was merely a small pawn; even a minor mistake would mean certain death. Though it looked glamorous, the bitterness was his alone. Yet, seeing Pang Ban ordered by the Emperor to resolve this in five days—or else face mortal peril—Shen Hao felt somewhat balanced; if even Pang Ban had it so rough, what right had he to complain?

August was approaching, and nights in the Imperial City had begun to heat up; the barracks were becoming ever more intolerable. With his business temporarily concluded, Shen Hao felt relieved. On a whim, he didn’t return to the barracks but wandered the training grounds instead, practicing "Earth Escape," "Soul Suppressing Skill," "Black Cut," and "Light Splitting Slash," switching back and forth—rarely did he have such a spacious place and time to train.

Due to this stint in the Imperial City conducting investigations, Shen Hao’s cultivation had been notably neglected. Though he kept up daily practice, the hours spent were much less compared to Fengri City. As a result, the Gathering Spirit Realm Sixth Layer, which he’d expected to reach in mid-July, had been delayed.

Even so, now at the end of July, he’d reached the ceiling for this small realm. Whether in his meridians or Sea of Consciousness, there was no more space for expansion—the sense of congestion returned once again.

Yet, while away and tasked with urgent duties, Shen Hao dared not attempt a breakthrough here, so he had to dedicate more of his cultivation time to practicing magic, as a way to indirectly slow down his progress.

A maximum of five or six more days of restraint—any longer, and it might backfire. Judging by the pace of the case, the timing might still work out.

After cycling through all the magic skills at hand, Shen Hao finally returned to his quarters—not to sleep, but to activate a layer of Concealing Array, then take out a... Long Sword from his Storage Bag.

With the Concealing Array’s protection, he practiced sword basics one stroke at a time: "thrust, flick, slice..." Though different from wielding a blade, there were a few overlaps—especially at the foundational level—so some transferable skills existed.

However, Shen Hao used his left hand for the sword.

Why practice Left-Handed Sword if not left-handed? Why not stick to blades as usual? What prompted him to suddenly learn swordsmanship? Wasn’t it too late?

The saying goes: "Good food is never too late." Previously, circumstances left him no choice: you learned what was available. The blade was the Xuanqing Guard’s standard, so that’s what he learned; besides blades, he had no other options.

But now, conditions had improved. Earlier, he’d gotten swept into the Sword Emperor’s Tomb by the Black Beast Pattern, and by chance, glimpsed a hint of the Sword Emperor’s skills. A set of Holy Spirit Swordsmanship, plus a single Sword Technique from the Sword Chamber—these were treasures Shen Hao felt would be wasted if left unlearned.

As for progress... barely acceptable. At least, after half a month, Shen Hao was beginning to grasp some sword fundamentals. Practicing the Left-Handed Sword turned out much harder than he’d imagined.

Not until just before 5 a.m. did Shen Hao finally rest for a while. This hour or so was barely sufficient for him.

At 7 a.m., Wang Yiming, with bloodshot eyes, knocked on Shen Hao’s door. Unlike Shen Hao, he hadn’t rested at all, working through the night.

"Sir, all the confessions from Qin Family main branch, including Qin Wenhe, have been compiled. Should we start arranging the final case files?"

"Did you bring them?"

"Yes, I did."

"Get someone to bring food and drink in. Let’s try to finish compiling the files this morning, so we can submit them."

"Yes, sir."

Time was tight. People like Shen Hao and Wang Yiming, intimately aware of every step in the case, weren’t panicked; in fact, they felt more at ease than before. But those who hadn’t handled the case themselves and lacked detail about its progress were clearly restless.

Outside the barracks, rumors had spread onto the streets; the common folk had already heard about it. Most didn’t believe at first, but seeing the Qin Family’s mansion deserted, people started thinking the Xuanqing Guard had accomplished something big once again—could it be that they were about to be punished by the Emperor?

Even inside the Xuanqing Guard, many were anxious; in small circles, they exchanged news, eager to learn more. If not for Black Banner Battalion’s tight control over Shen Hao’s residence, forbidding random entry, Shen Hao probably wouldn’t have had any peace.

Today was the final deadline; once 9 p.m. passed, if Xuanqing Guard couldn’t provide a reasonable explanation, Commander Pang Ban would have to offer his head to appease the civil servants’ wrath and the Temple Hall’s criticism. It was the Emperor’s balancing act—though whether Pang Ban and the Xuanqing Guard were truly the targets remained uncertain.

Just after noon, Shen Hao and Wang Yiming officially ’named’ the case file as the "Prince Shou’s Mansion Murder Case" and ushered it into the stage of verified closure.

The earlier investigations and groundwork had been thorough and detailed; writing it up was therefore surprisingly simple.

Afterward, it was handed to Jiang Cheng, who would then submit it to Commander Pang Ban; before nightfall, Pang Ban would enter the palace for an audience...