Being an emperor is not something he can do, so he can only rely on his connections.

---

Inside the torture chamber, the cold, damp air mingled with a faint smell of blood and mold. Various torture instruments hung on the walls shone coldly under the dim oil lamps. The two Shi family alchemists, stripped of their outer robes and wearing only their undergarments, were now bound in an unimaginable manner by skilled yamen runners. Their bodies were forcibly bent forward, their legs bent backward, their ankles pulled high, and cinched tightly to their wrists, bound behind their backs, with tough cow tendon ropes. Like shrimps snapped in two, they were forced to perform the brutal "sitting forward bend." Sweat, mixed with tears of agony, streamed freely down their contorted faces, and stifled, intermittent hoarse sounds emanated from their throats. This demanding position not only brought on excruciating pain, as if their joints were dislocated, but also made breathing extremely difficult.

Zhang Jingwei stood before them, his hands behind his back. The candlelight cast a massive shadow behind him, nearly shrouding the two trembling prisoners. He gazed at the restraints, which exceeded the limits of ordinary human restraints. A subtle flicker of surprise crossed his face, then faded into a deeper chill. This "double fold" was already torture.

"Zhang Jingwei!" The hot-tempered Taoist priest endured the severe pain, raised his head suddenly, his eyes were red, veins on his forehead bulged, and he roared, "You...you are a county official, but you...actually used lynching and tortured people into confessing! I want to appeal! I want to file a complaint with the emperor! The court will not let a cruel official like you go!" His voice became sharp and trembling due to the extreme pressure on his body.

Zhang Jingwei leaned in slightly, moving closer. A hint of innocent confusion crossed his face, but his voice was eerily calm. "Confession under torture? Taoist priest, how can you say that?" He gently tapped the Taoist's knee, which was curled up in pain, with the iron bar in his hand. "Look, I'm standing here, and I haven't even touched you with a finger." He glanced around. "Aren't the torture instruments hanging neatly on the wall? What's more—" He straightened up, his tone drawn out, a hint of mockery, "Aren't you still here cursing like crazy? This proves you haven't confessed yet. Your bones are quite hard."

Another alchemist, with a pale face and trembling lips, defended himself weakly: "My lord, please understand! What we are refining is... the genuine Yangyuan Golden Pill, which is... is for the nobleman of the Shi Mansion to prolong his life! It is definitely not... definitely not the Five Stones Powder that is banned by the court! I beg you to... investigate clearly... investigate clearly..." He seemed to have used up all his strength to say each word, and his body kept twitching due to lack of oxygen.

"Oh? A legitimate elixir?" Zhang Jingwei raised his eyebrows as if he had heard something interesting, and a cold smile played on the corner of his mouth. He walked to the table next to him, picked up a porcelain bottle with a label of "Yangyuan Jindan" that a yamen runner had searched from their alchemy room, and weighed it in his hands. "That's a nice thing to say." He walked back, squatted down, and almost put the porcelain bottle in front of the alchemist who was making excuses, "Then eat it. In front of me, eat this 'legitimate elixir' that you made with your own hands. If you are safe and sound, I will immediately believe you, untie you personally, and apologize. How about it?"

Upon hearing this, the hot-tempered Taoist priest's eyes were bloodshot, and he struggled and screamed, "Bah! Zhang Jingwei! You... you don't even think about it! Who knows... if you've already replaced our elixirs with poison! You... you are so cunning and vicious! Do you think we... are three-year-old children? If you have the guts... if you have the guts, give me a quick death!"

"Great?" Zhang Jingwei slowly stood up, the last trace of warmth in his eyes vanishing, leaving only a deep, cold chill. He turned to Wang Ergou, who had been standing by, rubbing his hands in anticipation, and said in a low voice, yet with an unquestionable command, "Dog."

"Young Master!" Wang Ergou immediately stepped forward, his back straight, his eyes flashing with wild-like excitement.

"Take them," Zhang Jingwei pointed at the two shrimps on the ground who were shaking violently with fear, "and beat them into a 'three-fold' shape."

Wang Ergou was stunned, a rare look of bewilderment on his fierce face: "Three... three folds? Master, this... this double fold is already impressive enough, three folds is...?" He really couldn't imagine how else to fold it.

Zhang Jingwei beckoned, and Wang Ergou immediately leaned over. Zhang Jingwei whispered a few words quickly. Wang Ergou's eyes suddenly widened, his mouth slightly open, revealing complete astonishment. Then, the astonishment receded like a tide, and a smirk, a mixture of disbelief and extreme excitement, quickly spread across his dark face. He even grinned, revealing a row of white teeth.

"No... Isn't that right, Master?" Wang Ergou's voice was a little off-key, expressing both surprise and admiration for this "brilliant idea." "This... This is too..."

"What are you afraid of?" Zhang Jingwei patted his shoulder, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather. "Don't worry, it won't take long. They're very weak."

"Alright! Listen to the young master!" Wang Ergou didn't hesitate any longer. He turned around and shouted at the burly yamen runners nearby who had been unable to contain themselves any longer, "Brothers! Did you hear what the master ordered? Go ahead! Strip these two's underwear off! Strip them clean! And then," he ordered with a sly grin, "stuff their heads into their crotches! Stuff them tightly!"

The order exploded like thunder in the torture chamber!

"Zhang Jingwei—!" The fiery Taoist priest instantly understood the meaning of the "three folds." This was no longer just physical pain, but a way to completely trample their personality and dignity into the dirt! The extreme humiliation and fear made him roar like he was dying, his body twisting wildly, trying to break free. "Beast! You beast in official clothing! A scholar can be killed but not humiliated! If you're still a man, give me a quick death! Kill me with one knife! Kill me—!"

The yamen runners ignored all this and pounced on them like wolves and tigers, roughly tearing off the last bit of fig leaf from the two men. The sound of cloth tearing, desperate curses, and groans of fear and suffocation mixed together.

Zhang Jingwei coldly observed the hellish scene before him. Hearing the shrill voices of "A gentleman can be killed but not humiliated," the curve of his lips deepened, a calmness bordering on cruelty. He slowly stepped forward, looking down at the Taoist priest whose eyes were bloodshot and being forcibly manipulated. His voice was low, but clear through the chaos:

"Manufacturing and selling Wushisan has brought disaster to the country and the people. According to the Chenshi Memorial and the imperial laws, you are guilty of a capital crime. I am merciful and am giving you a chance to speak up and make meritorious contributions while serving your sentence, but you don't cherish it..." He shook his head slightly, his eyes as cold as a knife. "Well, I will grant you the integrity of 'a scholar can be killed but not humiliated'. However, when you put your head in later..."

He leaned over, leaned close to the Taoist priest's ear, and whispered in a whisper that only the two of them could hear, like a poisonous snake spitting out its tongue:

"...but remember to keep your mouth shut. If you open it... oh, the pain would be a hundred times worse than death."

These light words were like the final straw that broke the alchemist's back, completely crushing his remaining will. The frenzied rage in his eyes was instantly drowned out by boundless fear and despair. His body trembled violently, and a discordant, death-like sob emanated from his throat: "Wu... Wu... Zhang... Zhang Jingwei... you... Wu..."

The bailiffs had completed their preparations, and with a grim smile, they began to carry out the appalling "three folds" command. Inside the torture chamber, only desperate sobs, heavy gasps, and the teeth-grinding scraping of bones as bodies were forcibly twisted and folded. The flame of the oil lamp danced restlessly, stretching the twisted, overlapping, and unsightly shadows on the wall into ever-larger and more bizarre shapes.