Chapter 810 – Interrogation by Torture
On the road back from Yunshui City to Yanshui City, the group did not ride a carriage.
Mo Hua walked at the front, hands behind his back, fingers subtly calculating. As if guided by instinct, he led the way confidently.
Gu Changhuai and the other two followed silently behind.
Gu Quan couldn't help but whisper, "Chief Officer, how is Young Master Mo navigating?"
He couldn't understand it at all.
Gu Changhuai frowned slightly. "Just follow him…"
"Yes, sir." Gu Quan dared not ask more.
Gu Changhuai silently glanced at Mo Hua, who was striding ahead like a little "spirit seer," and sighed inwardly.
Even before, he hadn't quite understood Mo Hua.
Now, he found him more and more unreadable.
These bizarre abilities… who knew where he'd picked them up?
Mo Hua, walking ahead, would sometimes stride forward with assurance, sometimes pause to observe, sometimes probe with his spiritual sense, or trace karmic threads. After some time, he suddenly stopped and pointed at a small grove by the roadside:
"Here…"
It was here that the karmic thread had snapped.
Or rather, something had obscured the traces, severing the thread of cause and effect.
This small grove was definitely suspicious.
Gu Changhuai nodded. "Let's go check it out. Stay behind me—be careful."
"Mm."
Mo Hua nodded.
He had a sense of what they were walking into.
With Uncle Gu present, if he could slack off, he would. If he didn't have to lift a finger, even better.
Gu Changhuai took the lead, heading toward the grove.
Mo Hua followed obediently behind, treating Gu Changhuai like a human shield.
Gu An and Gu Quan flanked Mo Hua, protecting him from either side.
The four of them advanced into the grove in this formation.
After walking for roughly the time it takes an incense stick to burn, they emerged into a sparsely wooded area, where an old courier station stood.
The station looked rundown and remote, with a branch of the Yanshui River flowing slowly nearby.
There was a stable in front of the station, holding two horses and a plain-looking carriage.
The group exchanged glances, their expressions puzzled.
"A courier station?"
A station, in a place this remote?
And hidden deep within a forest, as if deliberately trying not to be found.
Gu Changhuai spread out his spiritual sense for a quick scan, then said, "Let's go in and take a look."
"Yes, sir," Gu An and Gu Quan responded.
As they approached, before they could even enter, a burly man with a scruffy beard and a fierce expression stepped out the door and barked:
"What are you lot here for?"
Gu Changhuai replied calmly, "We're on the road. Saw you've got a courier station—wanted to rent some horses."
"Traveling?" The man frowned, his gaze sweeping over them. Then he said bluntly, "Ten thousand spirit stones as deposit. One hundred stones per horse, per day. If the horse dies, the deposit's gone."
Gu Changhuai's gaze sharpened. "Isn't that a bit steep?"
"Too expensive? Then don't rent," the man said impatiently. "You look like some rich young master. What, can't afford a measly ten thousand?"
Gu Changhuai raised a brow. "Fine."
The man held out his hand. "Pay up, and I'll give you the horses."
"No rush," Gu Changhuai said, exhaling slowly. "We've been on the road a while. Let's rest here, have some tea."
The man scowled. "No tea. Just horses. Pay, take the horses, and get lost."
Gu Changhuai said lightly, "You run a courier station but don't serve tea?"
The man hesitated, then laughed. "Fine, I can do tea. One thousand spirit stones per pot."
He figured that price would scare them off.
To his surprise, Gu Changhuai nodded. "Deal."
The man was stunned. His expression turned cold. "You heard me clearly? One. Thousand. Per pot."
Gu Changhuai sneered. "What, do you think I can't afford a measly thousand spirit stones for tea?"
Mo Hua, hiding behind him, couldn't help but mutter inwardly:
A thousand spirit stones for tea? You might be rich, Uncle Gu, but this is pure corruption…
The man's face suddenly darkened, his eyes cold. "You're not here for tea. You're not here for horses either. Who are you? What do you want?"
Gu Changhuai answered flatly, "I came here to offer you tea."
"…Offer us tea?" The man frowned.
Gu Changhuai nodded. "To offer you tea—at the Dao Court."
As soon as those three words—Dao Court Division—left his lips, the man's eyes turned vicious. Killing intent erupted.
From the grove, the stable, the station, and the rundown buildings, several concealed projectiles shot out, glowing green—coated in poison—aimed at the four of them.
Gu An drew his blade and parried one.
Gu Quan blocked another, then shielded Mo Hua. With a sweep of his long blade, he intercepted the one flying toward Mo Hua.
Gu Changhuai merely extended a hand.
The poisoned dart headed for his heart froze in midair—then was crushed to powder between his fingers.
Seeing their ambush fail, several cultivators burst from the surroundings, weapons drawn.
Most of them were Foundation Establishment mid-to-late stage cultivators, vicious in demeanor and clearly experienced in ambush and robbery.
But against Mo Hua's group—and especially Gu Changhuai, a Dao Court Chief Officer and a Golden Core cultivator—they were laughably outmatched.
Gu An and Gu Quan's twin blades moved in perfect sync, swift and lethal.
Gu Changhuai conjured wind blades, his spiritual power dazzling.
Mo Hua… provided moral support with a few fireballs.
Though still in a second-grade prefecture where Gu Changhuai couldn't unleash his full Core power, it took less than ten breaths to subdue them all.
Only one escaped—the bearded brute.
When Gu Changhuai crushed the dart with his fingers, the man had realized how far out of his depth he was. Even if Gu wasn't at Core level, he had to be peak Foundation Establishment. He ran the moment things went south.
But Mo Hua didn't let him off.
A Water Prison Technique instantly formed, freezing him in place for two seconds.
A flick of Gu Changhuai's finger—whoosh—a wind blade severed the man's leg.
Blood spurted, and the man collapsed, struggling to rise, but unable to.
Gu An stepped forward and bound him with a Dao Court Spirit-Binding Chain.
With that, all the station's cultivators were captured.
Gu An and Gu Quan dragged the captives into the ruined building, sealed the doors and windows, then barked harshly:
"Speak. Who are you people?"
The captives lowered their heads, silent.
Gu An unsheathed his blade and pressed it to one man's neck. His voice was low and threatening:
"Speak, or else…"
Blood beaded beneath the blade. The man clenched his jaw and remained mute.
Mo Hua shook his head. "They're not going to talk…"
Then his eyes lit up. "Should we use torture?"
Gu An and Gu Quan both froze.
Even Gu Changhuai's eyelid twitched slightly.
Gu An hesitated. "The Dao Court's torture tools aren't really portable, and we left in a hurry—we didn't bring any…"
"It's fine," Mo Hua said, eyes sparkling. "I brought some!"
Mo Hua proudly took out a formation-based torture board from his storage pouch and said with enthusiasm:
"This is the latest model—improved multiple times. I even added several formations on top…"
It was an eighteen-pattern formation!
Previously, after learning the eighteen-pattern configuration, Mo Hua had nowhere to apply it. His hands had itched, so he temporarily inscribed it onto the torture board.
However, he hadn't had a chance to use this board in a long time.
After all, during his confinement, he could only operate within Qianxue Prefecture, and such opportunities never came up.
He had been quite disappointed.
Unexpectedly, now that he was finally free, the chance came almost immediately.
Mo Hua was thrilled.
He had been dying to test out the power of this newest torture device.
Seeing Mo Hua's beaming face, Gu An fell silent and gave Gu Changhuai a glance.
Gu Changhuai looked at the board in Mo Hua's hand—recognizable, yet upgraded from the previous version—and sighed. He gave a small nod, silently approving.
Mo Hua handed the device to Gu An. "Make him kneel. That should get them to talk."
Gu An had no choice but to lay the torture board on the ground and force one of the cultivators to kneel onto it.
The moment his knees touched the board, light rippled across it, spiritual energy surged—and the cultivator howled like a slaughtered pig.
The others immediately paled, then turned to glare at Mo Hua with angry eyes.
Mo Hua blinked innocently. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Then, after a moment of thought, he suddenly said in realization, "Ah! I get it!"
"You're all sworn brothers, right? Sharing both joy and hardship? You want to experience the board too!"
"Perfect timing—I made a few spares just for testing. One for each of you."
As he spoke, Mo Hua pulled four more torture boards from his storage pouch.
This time, the cultivators' faces turned ghostly white.
They looked at Mo Hua as if he were a demon straight from hell.
When Mo Hua looked back at them, their gazes wavered with terror. None dared meet his eyes again.
Mo Hua nodded in satisfaction.
Then the bearded brute sneered and said, "Forget it, kid. You're underestimating us. Even if you kill us, you won't get a single word."
"Oh?" Mo Hua's eyes lit up. "I like the tough ones."
With a mere thought, the pain on the kneeling cultivator intensified. His wailing grew even louder.
An eighteen-pattern formation—far beyond what his cultivation could endure.
He wanted to speak, but glanced over and saw the bearded man's threatening glare. Gritting his teeth, he chose to pass out from the pain rather than betray them.
Mo Hua thought silently to himself:
"The board's power is decent, but… the process of torment could use a bit more variety…"
Meanwhile, the bearded brute sneered at Mo Hua:
"We're all outlaws, kid. We live with our heads hanging by a thread. You think torture can make us talk? You're too green."
Too green?
Then let's play dirty.
Mo Hua beamed.
"In that case… let's play a game."
The brute laughed coldly. "What kind of game?"
Mo Hua explained cheerfully:
"All of you kneel on the boards. I'll ask a question."
"Whoever answers first—gets released from the punishment."
"What do you say?" Mo Hua said with a gleam in his eyes. "Time to test your brotherhood. I really want to know if you can truly suffer together…"
The bearded man's expression changed.
What a vicious little schemer!
Mo Hua glanced at Gu An and Gu Quan, who immediately understood. They laid out the boards again and pressed all the outlaws onto them.
Mo Hua activated the formations one by one.
As the patterns flared, the power of the formations surged—blades, fire, freezing cold… a taste of every torment imaginable.
The outlaws turned pale, sweat pouring down their faces. A few even cried out in agony.
Then Mo Hua clapped his hands and announced:
"Alright! First question!"
"What did you eat for lunch?"
…That question was completely absurd.
Even Gu Changhuai and the others were momentarily stunned.
He wasn't asking anything serious? Just what they ate?
The outlaws had no idea what Mo Hua was thinking and kept their mouths shut.
But silence meant continued punishment—and the alternating torment of blades, fire, and ice was not pleasant.
Finally, one of them broke.
"B-Beef… we had beef…"
Mo Hua's eyebrows arched. "Very good!" With a wave of his hand, he deactivated the torture board under that man.
The man gasped for breath, face full of relief.
The others saw Mo Hua keeping his word, and that the questions were seemingly harmless. Their resolve began to waver.
"Next question!" Mo Hua said. "How old are you?"
A few seconds later, someone answered, "One hundred thirty…"
Mo Hua nodded and turned off his board.
"What's your surname?"
Before he even finished the question, someone blurted, "Zhao!"
Again, Mo Hua honored the deal and released him.
Mo Hua continued asking harmless, irrelevant questions, his goal clear—to condition them into answering without hesitation.
After the round, only the bearded leader remained silent, jaw clenched.
Mo Hua ignored him and continued:
"Alright, time for Round Two."
He reactivated all the torture formations.
The ones who had gotten a moment's reprieve were once again plunged into agony.
"First question for Round Two…" Mo Hua's gaze sharpened. "What names do you go by in the underworld?"
Now that question had a little weight—but it was perfectly measured.
Before long, one couldn't take it anymore and confessed:
"The brothers on the street… call me 'Poison Sixth Master'…"
Mo Hua frowned slightly.
That name didn't ring any bells.
Could they be outsiders?
Mo Hua gave a slight nod and moved on to the second question.
From here on, the intensity would rise step by step.
"What are you doing here?"
The atmosphere turned heavy.
The outlaw cultivators fell silent.
Some things they could talk about—but others, clearly not.
Mo Hua wasn't in a rush.
Even among people from the same gang, robbing together, swearing brotherhood, and being equally ruthless, their tolerance for pain would always differ.
Some could endure it. But inevitably, some could not.
Sure enough, after a moment, someone finally muttered:
"We… were ordered to run this outpost…"
"Run it?" Mo Hua sneered.
Since he'd already spoken, the man could only grit his teeth and continue:
"This place is remote, with few people passing through. If a fat sheep wanders in… we can make a little extra on the side…"
"You said you were ordered—by whom?" Mo Hua asked again.
"I…"
But before he could answer, the bearded brute barked, "Shut up!"
Mo Hua glanced at the brute.
Gu An understood and immediately took out a strip of black cloth and gagged the man, preventing him from speaking.
"Continue," Mo Hua said.
The cultivator clenched his jaw and said with a trembling voice, "You said… one question per person. I just answered two…"
Mo Hua blinked, then said, "Oh! That's right!"
One must be true to their word—even in torture.
So he let the man off and turned his attention to the others.
"Then you can answer this one."
Immediately, one of them, unable to endure the alternating pain of blades, fire, and water, quickly blurted out:
"It's Big Bro! He told us to hold this outpost!"
He had watched his brothers answer questions and get spared from pain, while he remained on the torture board, suffering.
It wasn't the suffering itself—but the unfairness of it.
He feared for his brothers' pain—
But feared even more that they'd rest easy while he suffered alone.
"Big Bro said we should do our best, be clean and efficient, and not cause any trouble. If things go smoothly, he'd reward us with a big sum of spirit stones, and even let us enjoy a night of pleasure aboard the ship…"
That last part made Gu Changhuai and the others stir.
Mo Hua asked immediately:
"What ship?"
"A… pleasure boat."
"What kind of pleasure boat?"
"We're not locals… don't know its name. We just heard it's filled with music, singing birds and fragrant flowers… and… a lot of women…"
"How do you get on the boat?"
"I don't know. Without a guide, no one knows where the entry point is—you can't just walk on."
Mo Hua nodded and released him from the board. Then he turned to the next question:
"This 'Big Bro' you keep mentioning—who is he?"
He pointed at the bearded brute with the gagged mouth.
"...It's not this piece of trash, is it?"
The brute grunted in muffled rage, eyes burning with fury.
"No…" a scar-faced cultivator replied.
"Then who is he?" Mo Hua asked.
The scar-faced man looked nervous.
He wanted to say it, but clearly couldn't.
Mo Hua quickly caught on and said:
"Alright, you don't have to say it—I'll guess, and you just nod or shake your head."
The scar-faced man nodded.
"Your Big Bro…" Mo Hua's gaze deepened, calculating behind his eyes,
"...is he skilled in water-based techniques?"
The man blinked in surprise—then nodded.
"Has he… killed many people?"
Another silent nod.
"And his street name is…" Mo Hua's eyes sharpened like blades,
"...Water Yama?"
The bearded brute's eyes bulged in panic and fury, shaking his head violently through the gag.
The scar-faced man looked at him, then after a brief silence, nodded.
Bingo.
Mo Hua's eyes lit up.
Finally—gotcha.
After that, Mo Hua went on to ask all sorts of unrelated questions.
The once-tough outlaws, after this round of psychological warfare and magical torment, were completely broken. They confessed everything, clean as a whistle.
Because among "brothers," if you answered slow—you suffered longer.
And no one wanted to suffer alone.
When the questioning was done, Gu Changhuai ordered them all tied up, then split up with Gu An and Gu Quan to search the outpost thoroughly.
Walking beside Gu Changhuai, Gu An couldn't help but comment:
"Young Master Mo really is clever… and resourceful…"
Gu Changhuai's expression froze slightly, his gaze turning more serious.
"Not clever… too clever."
This child—who raised him? Who taught him?
His face wore an innocent expression, but his eyes revealed a sharp insight into human nature.
He manipulated a group of hardened killers like puppets on strings—
Dividing them, rewarding and punishing them with perfect precision.
Many veteran interrogators couldn't pull that off.
If this kid walks the righteous path, all is well.
But if he strays… and becomes some manipulative devil cultivator skilled in twisting hearts and minds—
Then that future… would be terrifying to imagine.
Gu Changhuai sighed deeply.
(End of this Chapter)