The Art of Teasing - Chapter 132

Chapter 132

She divided the dried vegetables Grandma Xu had given her into two portions—one to keep and enjoy slowly for herself, the other to send to her grandfather.

After tasting them, her second aunt called and asked who had made them and whether she could buy more.

Wen Zhengyu asked with a cheerful laugh, "Delicious, aren't they?"

Wen Shishu said, "Look at you, so pleased with yourself. You have good things and never think of me."

Wen Zhengyu said, "That won't do. These belong just to Grandpa and me." But her second aunt was family too, so after a moment's hesitation, she asked, "How about I split my half-jar with you some more?"

Wen Shishu said, "It wouldn't come to that. Surely there isn't only this much?"

Wen Zhengyu said, "That's all there is. Grandma Xu said eating this kind of pickled sour vegetable long-term isn't good for the body, so she didn't give much."

Wen Shishu sighed, "Fine, then share some of your half-jar with me. To think that neither of us ever thought to learn a few dishes from your grandmother back then. Now that she's gone, even craving a taste of it is difficult."

Wen Zhengyu said, "I can make soup."

Wen Shishu let out two heavy "heh heh" sounds and said, "In our family, whoever makes the soup—is there any difference in taste?"

Wen Zhengyu could only manage a dry laugh. She asked, "Second Aunt, are you missing your mother?"

Wen Shishu's face couldn't hold its composure. She scolded her, "Asking for a beating. Alright, I'm hanging up now. Oh, by the way, I heard from Kang Bai that Zhao Si has been rather restless lately. Be extra careful yourself."

Wen Zhengyu gave an "mm" and said, "I bring enough bodyguards whenever I go out."

Wen Shishu knew Wen Zhengyu brought plenty of bodyguards and felt reassured. Although Zhao Si's father and uncle were both quite powerful, their family had only risen since the sixties and seventies. The Zhang family had been local overlords more than a hundred years ago. Old Madam Zhang's younger brother had been somewhat worthless and squandered money extravagantly—it seemed the two of them had ruined the family fortune. When Old Madam Zhang married, the Zhang family patriarch had given her a dowry of guns, men, and their most valuable businesses. Tracing the Zhang family back, they had first followed warlords, and when the warlords fell, they became bandits, engaging in smuggling operations. The world was chaotic in those days; they had guns and men, so they moved into the city, opening pawnshops, gambling dens, banks and money houses—whatever business made money they did. After the victory against the Japanese, the Zhang family's money houses and shops were sold off one after another. Old Madam Zhang stuffed those brothers who had followed the Zhang family through life and death under Old Master Lian and drove Old Master Lian off to join the military. When Old Master Lian enlisted, he took over three hundred men with him. When he returned, he came back alone, limping on a crippled leg. Old Madam Zhang scolded him plenty: "Even escaping for your life slower than others, running at the very back to take a bullet." Word spread outside that Old Master Lian had lost a battle and squandered the family's entire foundation. But all these years, the Lian family had remained steady and secure—things weren't so simple behind the scenes. One could glimpse a hint of it from what Old Madam Zhang had given Wen Zhengyu.

As long as Zhao Si didn't act recklessly and directly approach Wen Zhengyu with violence, whatever angle the Zhao family wanted to work from, they couldn't touch Wen Zhengyu.

With ample time, Wen Zhengyu visited all the families she needed to give gifts to. Ye Ling accompanied her for four days, then went off to attend to her own matters.

The old lady and old gentleman had gone to visit Grandpa Bian and didn't invite her along. They said she was out delivering gifts and was busy, so if she wasn't keeping them company, they weren't willing to ask her. She understood—in truth, they were afraid she'd feel distressed seeing Grandpa Bian hospitalized.

Wen Zhengyu took two days to fly back, handled the studio's work, then flew back again.

The moment she got off the plane, police officers rushed up, pushed her to the ground, and handcuffed her. Just as her bodyguards were about to close in, they were blocked by police armed with live ammunition. After that, they were all bundled into vehicles.

When she was shoved to the ground, her head knocked against the floor, stunning her with the impact. Combined with the police's extremely rapid movements, before she could react, she was already stuffed into a car.

In the blink of an eye, she was separated from the bodyguards around her, locked in a police vehicle, facing special police officers armed with live rounds.

Seeing that the special police didn't seem inclined to deal with her, she sat there obediently, completely clueless about what had happened.

After that, she was taken to a room resembling an interrogation chamber. Behind her were posted the large words: "Torture for Confession Strictly Prohibited."

No one came to deal with her for a long time.

The interrogation room had no air conditioning; it was freezing, leaving her hands and feet ice-cold. She was hungry and thirsty, but no one came.

After a very long time, when she was almost frozen stiff, the heating suddenly came on in the interrogation room. As the temperature gradually rose, she finally warmed up.

Not long after, two uniformed police officers came in. After sitting down, they asked her with grim faces, "Do you know what offense you've committed?"

Wen Zhengyu shook her head.

The officer then produced several photographs and asked her, "You sent these things, didn't you?"

Wen Zhengyu looked at the items in the photos; they seemed somewhat familiar. She said, "I need to examine them carefully."

The officer brought them over and held them in front of her, telling her to look carefully, examine thoroughly. There were quite a few photographs—small trinkets of little value, quite consistent with the characteristics of the gifts she gave.

The officer warned her: "Leniency for confession. Now that you're here, don't think about playing tricks."

Wen Zhengyu made an "mm" sound and said, "I need to see the actual objects to confirm." Seeing these items, she had a rough idea why she'd been brought in. The matter of Old Master Lu.

With a "smack," one officer slammed the table heavily and shouted, "Quit quibbling. Tell us—what were you trying to accomplish by giving gifts and offering bribes?"

Wen Zhengyu was utterly baffled, finding it completely absurd. She raised her head, looking at the officers, her mind absolutely unable to wrap around it.

The officer asked her again: "Who in your family sent you to deliver these things?"

Wen Zhengyu: "…" What in the world was this situation? Even if these things really were sent by her, she had bought them with her own pocket money, her own social dealings.

The officer roared again: "Don't play dumb and pretend to be slow-witted! I'm telling you, we now have ample evidence proving you sent these things!"

Wen Zhengyu nodded. She understood. If they were things she had sent, one investigation would uncover it—there was no denying it.

The officer taking the statement looked at Wen Zhengyu and said, "I'm telling you, we will thoroughly investigate this case to the end. Don't think anyone will protect you, or that you can pull any tricks. I'm telling you, it's useless. If it were useful, you wouldn't be locked up here. You'd best be sensible yourself to avoid hardship."

Wen Zhengyu nimbly glanced back at the "Torture for Confession Strictly Prohibited" sign—to steady her courage and calm her nerves. She asked hesitantly, "Will a confession be beaten out of me?"

With a "bang," one officer slammed his hand on the table again, making everything on it jump.

Wen Zhengyu jumped in fright and thought to herself: That must really hurt his hand.

She looked again at the officer's expression—very angry indeed.

She dared not speak further to provoke them and sat there obediently, upright and proper, saying nothing.

The two officers went out again.

After a while, she needed to use the restroom, but there was no one. She called out: "Is anyone there? I need to use the restroom."

Several more minutes passed before an officer came in, handed her water, and said, "Drink."

Wen Zhengyu shook her head and said, "I need to go to the restroom."

The officer's face darkened as he emphasized again: "Drink!"

Wen Zhengyu continued shaking her head.

The officer pinched her nose shut and poured water into her mouth.

Wen Zhengyu was horrified and thought: They wouldn't drug it, would they? She clamped her lips shut with all her might, but the officer pinched her mouth open and poured water in. The water went into her mouth, her nose, splashed all over her—she couldn't even spit it out fast enough. Amid the struggle, she still swallowed a great deal, choking terribly.

She coughed desperately for a long while before recovering.

The officer then switched to a gentle, pleasant expression and said, "Worried you'd be dehydrated." He sat back down and said, "Tell me—what collusion do you have with Lu Zhenghai?"

Wen Zhengyu felt her brain was about to crash. She asked, "Who is Lu Zhenghai?"

The officer asked in a deep voice, "A few days ago you brought his father out of the nursing home, and you don't know who he is?"

Wen Zhengyu's mouth opened slightly as she understood. Old Master Lu's son. She had never dealt with him, only seen him once when Old Master Lu was sick and he came to pick him up. He was the type who didn't look people in the eye—when she was taking care of Old Master Lu, he treated her as someone currying favor with him, threw out a few bureaucratic platitudes, and left.

The officer asked, "Remember now?"

Wen Zhengyu didn't know what they were investigating, so she didn't want to say anything. She said again, "I need to go to the restroom."

The officer looked at her coldly.

From the officer's gaze, she understood. They didn't want to let her go to the restroom. She suddenly grasped the situation. When Zhang Jianzhi launched his coup, surrounding the Palace of Prolonged Life, forcing Empress Wu Zetian to abdicate, making Wu Zetian write the edict of abdication. Wu Zetian wouldn't write it, so they trapped Wu Zetian in the Palace of Prolonged Life, wouldn't let her go anywhere, wouldn't even let her use the toilet. In the end, Wu Zetian truly couldn't hold it anymore and couldn't lose face, so she was forced to write the edict of abdication and leave in urgent haste.

Wen Zhengyu said slowly, "I can refrain from going, but a ruptured bladder would be very dangerous." After speaking, she pressed her legs together and sat there upright and proper. After hesitating, she asked, "Do you think that when Zhang Jianzhi launched his coup and trapped the Zetian Emperor in the Palace of Prolonged Life back then, if the Zetian Emperor had died there from a ruptured bladder, would Zhang Jianzhi have gotten the reputation of regicide or torturing a sovereign to death?" As soon as she finished speaking, she saw the officer who had been glaring at her with rage—his face twisted.

Then the officer rushed over, grabbed her head, and slammed her face into the table. Perhaps for fear that someone might attempt suicide during interrogation, the table was padded—it didn't hurt, but the impact still made her head ring. Immediately after, something like a thick book was placed over her head, and several heavy blows came smashing down through it. Right then and there, Wen Zhengyu's vision blurred, her ears rang, her thoughts became hazy, and the world spun around her.

Her head pressed against the table, too heavy to lift.

Someone grabbed her by the hair and yanked her up, then ice-cold water was splashed onto her face.

She couldn't see people clearly; everything before her was a blur, spinning everywhere. Someone was speaking, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. She thought, But it clearly says torture for confession is prohibited.

In her dazed confusion, her face was suddenly shoved into water. When she inhaled, water poured into her nose. In an instant, a piercing, unbearable sensation shot through her nasal cavity, spreading from her nose all the way to her lungs. A scene from a certain movie suddenly surfaced in her mind. So art really does imitate life—or perhaps these officers had learned it from the movie.

Would she be drowned to death here?

Wen Zhengyu felt it probably wouldn't happen.

It was just exceptionally, exceptionally unbearable. Especially unbearable. Her head was still very dizzy, she was suffocating badly, and every time she inhaled, it was all water, making her choke even more, her head even heavier…

She thought: I might die after all.

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