“Hey, wake up! Hey!”
Song Beiyao heard someone calling him by his ear, sounding very much like Ling Shuang. Opening his eyes slowly, he checked the numbers in the lower-left corner of his vision first thing: -196.
Manageable.
“Hurry, I’ll get you out of here, and we’ll leave the Crown Prince’s residence tonight.” Without any further explanation, Ling Shuang attempted to pull Song Beiyao up from the ground.
“Wait.” Song Beiyao sat up unhurriedly and looked around. This place looked like a prison cell—dimly lit with a lingering scent of blood in the air.
“Ling Shuang, tell me what happened first.” He only remembered meeting Pei Ji.
Ling Shuang sounded extremely anxious: “Pei Ji seems to have found out something; he said he’s going to interrogate you personally tomorrow.” Squatting down halfway, he looked at Song Beiyao: “Do you know how Pei Ji interrogates people? He could pry open the mouth of a corpse.”
Song Beiyao raised an eyebrow slightly: “I know.” The original text contained extensive descriptions of Pei Ji’s ruthlessness, including but not limited to cruel interrogation methods used on various spies.
“As long as you know! I managed to sneak into the dungeon with such difficulty, so hurry up!” Ling Shuang reached out to pull him.
Song Beiyao pressed down on his hand: “I can’t leave.”
“Why not!”
Because he needed to stay by Pei Ji’s side to leech fortune points.
Naturally, Song Beiyao wouldn’t give such an answer. Curving his lips into a smile, he said leisurely, “Ling Shuang, if I leave, wouldn’t that mean admitting my identity is problematic? What would happen to the relations between the two countries then, and what kind of predicament would that place Zhao in?”
When these words fell, the dungeon fell into absolute silence. Utilizing the wall-mounted oil lamp, Ling Shuang caught the faint flickers of firelight reflected in Song Beiyao’s eyes. He had never realized a person’s eyes could look so breathtaking—imbued with both a smile and a profound seriousness that made it impossible to look away.
Even less did he expect that the Fourth Prince of Zhao would possess such a strong sense of patriotism and duty to his country. Silently letting go of his hand, he asked in a dry voice, “If you don’t leave, what will you do tomorrow? You won’t be able to withstand Pei Ji’s methods.”
“Rest assured, I have a way. Besides, my identity as a prince isn’t fake.” Song Beiyao patted his shoulder to comfort him, “Thanks for coming to save me, Ling Shuang. If an accident really happens tomorrow, remember to escape the Crown Prince’s residence early.”
Ling Shuang stared into his eyes for a moment before swatting his hand away: “Don’t flatter yourself, I only came to save you so you wouldn’t hold me back.” With that, he stood up and left.
The dungeon at night was gloomy, damp, and freezing cold.
Lying on a pile of straw, Song Beiyao felt extremely miserable and unable to fall asleep, so he simply began analyzing the current situation.
In the original text, the spy was not suspected by the male protagonist in the early stages, let alone locked in the dungeon on the very first day of entering the estate. What was happening right now did not match the original plot, which suggested that something unexpected had occurred.
Regarding the male protagonist Pei Ji, Song Beiyao had two primary impressions: ruthless and cautious.
Pei Ji’s caution did not make him hesitant when facing major issues; instead, it made him exceptionally prudent when handling details.
Yet this time, when faced with a prince sent by an allied nation for a political marriage, Pei Ji had disregarded the alliance between the two countries and directly locked him up in prison.
Thus, it could be deduced that the problem lay with Pei Ji an unknown event had taken place.
“Cough cough, cough cough cough…” Halfway through his analysis, Song Beiyao suddenly broke into a violent fit of coughing, curling his entire body into a tight ball.
“Now you know the importance of gathering fortune points, Host.” The system’s teasing voice slowly materialized. “-196 is far too low! A normal person’s physical condition could never withstand this value. You really are a ruthless individual!” The system clicked its tongue repeatedly.
With a pale complexion, Song Beiyao twitched the corners of his lips: “Spare me the sarcastic remarks. I gained 3 points today when I bumped into Pei Ji. How exactly is this score calculated?”
“Ahem.” Mentioning this, the system perked up with renewed vigor. “As you know, acquiring fortune points requires physical contact with the child of destiny. For instance, touching limbs adds 1 point, touching the torso adds 2 points, touching the cheek adds…”
Song Beiyao cut it off: “Skip to the high point values.”
“High point values?” the system said elusively. “A single embrace adds 10 fortune points, a single kiss adds 20 fortune points, and having sex adds 50 fortune points.”
“The highest value is sex?” Song Beiyao mused thoughtfully. “If I were to top Pei Ji, it might be a bit challenging.”
The system: “???? What on earth are you talking about, good heavens!”
“Are you sure you aren’t the one being topped?” the system muttered quietly.
“Me being topped?” Song Beiyao scraped his upper canine against the tip of his tongue, a soft chuckle rumbling in his throat. “Is that even possible?”
The system: “……”
“Leaving aside the question of who tops whom, your current physical condition simply cannot handle having sex with Pei Ji,” the system admitted honestly. “Given his intensity, your fortune points need to reach 100 before you can pull that off.”
Song Beiyao narrowed his eyes slightly: “Then let’s put that option on hold for now.”
The system: “……” As if the other person would even agree if you considered it!
“Let’s drop it for now.” Song Beiyao placed a hand against his brow. “I’m going to get some sleep.”
The interrogation room of the dungeon had no windows. Surrounded by mottled stone walls stained with blood patches of varying shades, light from the outside could not penetrate inside, leaving only the wall oil lamps to illuminate this narrow space.
When Pei Ji stepped in from outside, his gaze immediately locked onto the figure bound to the cross-shaped wooden pillar. The youth’s crimson robe was stained and filthy, his head hung limply, and his hair hung loose in disarray, looking thoroughly wretched.
“Wake him up,” Pei Ji commanded coldly.
“Understood.” A guard fetched a bucket of cold water and splashed it straight over him. The youth’s body shuddered, drawing in a sharp, deep breath as he burst into violent fits of coughing.
“You all may withdraw.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Song Beiyao snapped his eyes open. His hair was completely soaked, sticking in thin strands to his cheeks and causing immense discomfort. Trying to move slightly, he realized he was securely tied to the wooden pillar with his hands hoisted up, the coarse hemp ropes digging painfully into his wrists.
Pei Ji stood not far away, his back to the light, fixing a wolf-like gaze upon him with an overwhelming sense of oppression.
“Your Royal Highness the Crown Prince, what is the meaning of this?” Just as he finished his violent coughing fit, Song Beiyao’s chest heaved up and down as he spoke in a weak voice, “Treating your newly arrived consort in this manner defies common sense.”
“Common sense?” Pei Ji seemed to have heard something amusing. His voice was deeply resonant and magnetic, but right now it sounded exceptionally bone-chilling. “Common sense also requires the premise that you are actually the Fourth Prince of Zhao.”
Song Beiyao offered a pale smile, his voice sounding as though it had been soaked in clear stream water clear and gentle: “If Your Highness has something to say, please speak plainly. Bei Yao is dull-witted and fails to grasp the meaning behind your words.”
Pei Ji did not beat around the bush with him either. Walking over to the execution table, he picked up a dagger. The edges of the dagger were not conventional blades, but rather two rows of barbs, terrifyingly sharp.
He spoke, “A few days ago, this king received a secret missive concerning you.”
Song Beiyao raised an eyebrow unnoticeably. Was this the unknown event that had triggered the change?
Instead of directly inquiring about the contents of the secret missive, he displayed appropriate astonishment: “So Your Highness is treating me this way because of that letter?”
A cold chuckle escaped Pei Ji’s lips without answering the question. Turning back slowly with emotionless eyes fixed on Song Beiyao, he stated, “This king has interrogated quite a few people in this very place. Not a single one has managed to hold out; in the end, everything that should and should not be said was spilled completely.”
This sentence sounded like a final warning ultimatum.
The feeble flame of the oil lamp flickered gently, casting the man’s towering shadow against the stone wall, stretching and magnifying it infinitely until it seemed as though it would swallow the entire wall whole.
Meeting the oppressive gaze, Song Beiyao spoke with a weak voice, slow and soft in tone: “I will say it again: if Your Highness has something to say, please state it clearly. Since I have already married into the Crown Prince’s residence, I am henceforth your person, and I shall certainly tell you everything I know without holding anything back.”
Upon hearing these words, Pei Ji’s expression paused slightly. This kind of fragile, sickly posture of surrender could indeed effectively lower a person’s guard, and paired with such an alluring appearance, it genuinely possessed a capital capable of arousing pity.
Instantly, a cold snort echoed in his heart. This cunning assassin truly looked like two entirely different people compared to the ruthlessness he displayed when killing him in the future; he certainly excelled at putting up a disguise.
“You might as well guess what is written in that secret missive,” he said.
“I won’t guess.” Song Beiyao chuckled softly. “Instead of trusting a piece of paper, Your Highness, why not try to understand me and believe in the person you interact with?”
Not only cunning, but sharp-tongued as well.
A cold glint flashed across Pei Ji’s eyes. Stepping forward slowly, he used the tip of his dagger to lift the youth’s chin, looking down at him from above with parted thin lips: “The missive states that you are an assassin.”
The tip of the blade did not pierce the skin, yet it still induced a stinging sensation. Having mentally prepared himself beforehand, Song Beiyao was unsurprised upon hearing this, but he feigned profound shock instead: “How could anyone talk such nonsense? How could Your Highness actually believe such words?”
With that, triggered by emotional agitation, he broke into another violent fit of coughing, his pale cheeks instantly flushing red while even his neck became stained with reddish marks.
Narrowing his eyes slightly, Pei Ji withdrew the dagger. At such close range, every subtle shift in Song Beiyao’s expression fell into his sight; that shock and bewilderment did not look like a performance.
A momentary hesitation even flickered through his mind.
Yet that dream was evidently a prophecy of the future and could not be false. Pei Ji’s expression grew increasingly cold and stern: “This king knows the reliability of the intelligence. If you clearly confess your backing forces, this king will consider sparing your life. If you insist on keeping up your disguise…”
The tip of the blade suddenly dropped to the youth’s throat, “…this king has his own methods.”
It seemed he intended to extract a confession through torture.
“Your Highness, I am not an assassin,” Song Beiyao smiled palely, speaking with powerlessness, “I don’t even know martial arts; how could I possibly be an assassin?”
Hearing this, Pei Ji pressed two fingers against Song Beiyao’s wrist, his brows knitting tightly together.
His pulse was floating and weak, completely devoid of internal energy, and his physical constitution was dreadful clinging to life by a mere thread.
Yet this proved nothing. There were numerous pills capable of suppressing internal martial arts; there was no guarantee whether this pulse condition was caused by medicine. It was even possible that such a frail physique was entirely meant to deceive others.
If that were truly the case, this spy had indeed gone to painstaking lengths. Pressing his brows downward, he turned and walked back toward the execution table.
Taking advantage of the gap, Song Beiyao watched the numbers in the bottom-left corner update in real time. He had automatically lost 1 point upon waking up, but gained 1 point just now; one deduction canceled out the addition, leaving it still at -196.
Pei Ji retrieved a small black wooden box and uttered cruelly, “This is the Soul-Devouring Gu from Yun. Once the Gu worm enters the body, a person will experience the agony of all seven meridian channels snapping, though they will not die immediately. The Gu worm will devour your internal organs clean bit by bit, a process that lasts about seven days. Within those seven days, if you remember anything, you might still be saved.”
The box was held extremely close, and Song Beiyao caught the rotting stench emanating from within, causing him to retch and vomit a mouthful of blood.
You’re truly ruthless, Pei Ji!
When this man set his mind on something, discussion seemed completely out of the question and there was zero room for maneuver.
The dungeon was cold, dark, and lightless, and Song Beiyao’s clothes were soaked completely through, chilling him to the bone. His damp hair clung to his face, and blood continuously overflowed from the corners of his lips.
Painful and miserable, yet he still wanted to live he wanted to return to his original world, and he had to go back!
“Hehehehehe…”
Pei Ji heard the youth suddenly let out a low burst of laughter. Reaching out to grab that soaked mass of hair, he yanked Song Beiyao’s head upward: “Did you remember something?”
Raising his face toward him, the youth’s exceptionally enchanting face looked utterly wretched right now, his eyes half-open while his slender neck was pulled into a tight arc as though it would snap with a single bend.
“Pei Ji, you cannot kill me.” Pei Ji heard Song Beiyao’s nearly hypnotic voice. Those eyes resembled poisoned poppies, and even the tear mole at the corner of his eye was extraordinarily captivating.
For a moment, Pei Ji actually lost his focus.
The youth smiled gently, “Because only I know the whereabouts of Peng Yu.”
His grip loosened abruptly, and Song Beiyao’s head slumped limply downward. Before his consciousness faded away, he thought to himself that he had just delivered an Academy Award-winning performance.
After a long pause, Pei Ji spoke in a deep voice: “What do you mean by that?”
However, no reply came.
Lowering his gaze, Pei Ji stared at the unconscious youth, a dark glint flashing across his eyes.