Chapter 61: A Sharp Tongue Meets the Blade

Sitting high above, the face of the conqueror was fully revealed on Wei Wuji. Though he had warmly entertained an old friend for several days, Wei Wuji showed no hesitation when it was time to act.

“Old Gu, since you’re here, tell me everything you know,” Wei Wuji said, filling his cup with wine and speaking slowly.

Called out by Wei Wuji, Gu Mu finally lifted his head a little. Apart from the pain in his eyes, his face was devoid of any expression. He was well aware of the severity of his crimes; even if he confessed, there would be no escaping the doom of his entire clan.

“Father, don’t say anything! At worst, it’s just death, but if we can drag the entire State of Wei down with us, it’s worth it!” cried Gu Yuyan, who was bound nearby.

At these words, Gu Mu’s heart sank. Sure enough, Wei Wuji’s eyes lit up immediately, and his gaze toward Gu Mu grew sharper.

To be able to threaten the whole State of Wei, whether exaggerated or not, indicated a conspiracy of no small scale. Moreover, judging by their demeanor, they were but a part of this plot; even without them, the plan might yet proceed.

This realization sent chills down Wei Wuji’s spine. If he didn’t pry their mouths open soon, these people might truly succeed, and he himself might not even have a grave left.

Suddenly thrust into such peril, Wei Wuji’s heart pounded faster—indeed, the more one thinks, the more fearful one becomes.

“Bring me a whip!” Wei Wuji commanded the guards.

But he wasn’t finished. He continued, “You there, from the female servants captured from the Gu household, fetch me the strongest one.”

Soon, both the maid and the whip were brought before him. Wei Wuji was pleased—the middle-aged serving woman was indeed powerfully built.

“What was your duty in the Gu household?” Wei Wuji asked the maid.

She fell to her knees in terror, her face pale with fear. Dragged here by sword and blade to this murderous place, this ignorant servant girl was barely holding herself together.

When Wei Wuji questioned her, the maid shuddered, struggling not to tremble as she stammered out, “General… this lowly one… was but a kitchen maid, assigned to hard labor…”

Wei Wuji was even more satisfied. Someone used to heavy work would have the strength required.

“Now, pick up the whip and flog that woman,” Wei Wuji ordered, gesturing at Gu Yuyan.

Unwilling to soil his own hands, he could only delegate—after all, he still had to leave a good impression on the soldiers.

The maid’s face was full of distress. For those who had served the Gu family for decades, the young mistress was as high as the heavens; years of awe had left them unable to disobey.

Even now, staring down blades, their minds could not shift.

When the maid hesitated, Zheng Dali grew incensed. He drew his sword and threw it before her, shouting, “Any more hesitation, and you’ll be executed without mercy!”

Seeing the cold gleam of the sword at her feet and cowed by Zheng Dali’s threat, the maid snatched up the whip.

She stood, walked toward Gu Yuyan, her eyes vacant.

“You wretch, how dare you—” Gu Mu roared, struggling to lunge forward, only to be pinned down by the guards.

Seeing the dazed maid approach her, Gu Yuyan’s beautiful face filled with terror. Never had she imagined she would suffer such humiliation—a lowly servant raising a hand against her. These people were beneath her notice in ordinary days.

The maid stopped before her.

“You vile woman, how dare you—” Gu Yuyan shouted.

“Strike!” Wei Wuji’s deep voice was like a wall, impossible to resist.

A crack rang out.

A scream followed.

Again the whip cracked; again, a wail.

Under the maid’s strong arm, the whip landed heavily on Gu Yuyan, drawing cries of pain.

“Gu Mu, it must not be easy, watching your own daughter suffer,” Wei Wuji’s devilish voice resounded as he gazed at the grieving Gu family.

“You care nothing for the bonds we shared these days? To treat a woman so cruelly?” Gu Mu wept in anguish.

Bonds? The hospitality of the past few days? Wei Wuji sneered. You sought my life, and I’m to speak of sentiment? I am no child.

“Old Gu, just reveal your conspiracy, and I’ll have her stopped at once,” Wei Wuji said pragmatically.

Gu Mu said nothing, his gaze toward Gu Yuyan growing all the more sorrowful yet resolute. He had made his choice.

Though Gu Yuyan was wracked with pain, she stood her ground and retorted, “Wei Wuji, you coward. I wonder how your mother raised you—bullying women is all you’re good for.”

“Insolence!” Zheng Dali thundered at Gu Yuyan.

He then seized the sword from the floor and strode toward her.

To insult Wei Wuji—especially to insult Lady Dan—was to touch Zheng Dali’s greatest taboo, a deadly offense.

Wei Wuji’s expression darkened, his gaze cold as death upon Gu Yuyan.

But he stopped Zheng Dali, saying icily, “To kill her so quickly would be too kind. I want her to know a fate worse than death.”

Hearing this, Zheng Dali halted, agreeing that swift death was too lenient.

“Gag her and continue!” Wei Wuji ordered the maid.

Having grown accustomed to whipping her mistress, the maid now hesitated no more at his command.

The sound of flogging resumed, faster and heavier than before.

Watching her once lofty masters bleed and weep beneath her whip, the maid felt an unspeakable pleasure—a taste of long-awaited vengeance.

With this thought, she struck with even greater zeal.

“Huan’er, pour me wine! What are you standing there for?” Wei Wuji called out indifferently, oblivious to the scene before him.

Startled, Huan’er hurried over, her fear of Wei Wuji deepening as she witnessed this horror. All of it was the work of this youth, not yet eighteen. Where once she found him handsome, now his face seemed demonic.

Of all the Gu household, only she had yet to be implicated, and she had no desire to become a prisoner.

Wei Wuji took the wine Huan’er poured, smiled again, and said to Gu Mu, “Old Gu, you’d best speak now! Tell me, and I’ll grant your daughter a swift end.”

Tears streaked Gu Mu’s face, the agony of a ruined family nearly breaking him. Yet he remained silent, resolved to the end.

Seeing Gu Mu unmoved, Wei Wuji was out of options—only one course remained: slaughter.

“Very well, Gu Mu, you are a true man, ruthless to the last!” Wei Wuji slammed the table, helpless before Gu Mu’s resolve.

Gu Mu wiped away his tears, regaining his composure—if he must die, he would not give Wei Wuji the satisfaction of seeing him break.

“Dali, every quarter hour, kill one of the Gu clan. And mind you, only those with the surname Gu!” Wei Wuji ordered through gritted teeth.

Despite his normally genial demeanor, Zheng Dali never hesitated in such matters. He accepted the order and strode out, turning his blade upon the Gu family.

“Gu Mu, I’ll see how long you can hold out!” Wei Wuji sneered.

But Gu Mu’s expression did not change; instead, he replied, “Wei Wuji, your triumph will be short-lived. When my family is gone, the State of Wei will fall with us!”

Wei Wuji, enraged by Gu Mu’s indifference, slammed the table and roared, “Zheng Dali, don’t wait another quarter hour—begin at once!”

The outburst so frightened Huan’er that her face lost all color; she dropped the wine flask on the table.

“Your servant deserves to die!” Huan’er knelt, trembling beside the table.

Wei Wuji gently helped her up, handed back the flask with a slight smile, and said, “It’s all right—just be careful next time.”

She gripped the flask tightly and poured his wine with great care.

Just then, screams echoed from outside. After a few desperate cries of “Father!”, a blade fell—and a head thudded to the ground.

Gu Mu drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. By now, his fingernails had dug into his flesh, and blood seeped from his clenched fists.