Black Hand, Zane Shore Scares the Young Ladies
Zane Shore was relentless. If Serena Feng refused to answer, he wouldn't leave; Serena was so frustrated she wanted to scream. Was she looking for a bodyguard, or had she just picked up a lord she had to tiptoe around and serve?
Facing Zane's cold, implacable expression, Serena sighed and explained seriously, "I really don't know how. I've only seen a thunder-blast grenade explode before, and today's trick could only fool outsiders. The Bloodcloak Guard would see through it in a heartbeat."
She wouldn't admit to knowing how to make thunder-blast grenades in the Eastlyn Imperial Capital, not unless Ninth Royal Uncle was planning a rebellion. Otherwise, she absolutely couldn't let it slip that she knew how to craft such weapons.
No—even if Ninth Royal Uncle did rebel, she still couldn't reveal she could make thunder-blast grenades. The Assassin Alliance already had their eyes on her; if the whole realm started coveting her skills, she'd be doomed. Unless one day she held power second only to the Emperor, she'd never admit she could manufacture such explosives.
Serena met Zane's gaze head-on, her eyes steady. Zane's pale face scrunched up, full of suspicion: "Are you sure you don't know? If you can't make thunder-blast grenades, how did you know to dump the saltpeter from firecrackers and ignite it all at once to get the same effect? Serena, you'd better come clean."
Zane made it clear he didn't believe Serena and was determined to force her to explain herself.
Come clean your ass, Serena ground her teeth. The training she'd received was clear: if you fall into enemy hands, never tell the truth—always hide your talents and importance. Talented or high-ranking people either die fast or get watched so closely they can't even dream of escape.
"Zane, for the last time, I really don't know how. If I did, I would've used the real thing from the start—why bother with tricks? I'd have just blown open the Bloodcloak Dungeon and rescued Simon myself, no need for your help." Serena's face was dead serious; even when Zane glared at her with murderous eyes, she refused to back down. No meant no, and she'd stick to it even if it killed her.
"Hmph." Not getting the answer he wanted, Zane turned away in a huff, ignoring Serena and refusing to let her board the carriage.
Was he just bullying her because he was new here, acting like he didn't know anything? If Serena really used a thunder-blast grenade to blow up the Bloodcloak Dungeon, Simon Sun would die too. Serena treasured Simon—she'd never risk his life by blowing up the prison.
Ugh... Serena was so frustrated she could scream. She hadn't asked Zane to come—he'd shown up on his own, and now he was this impossible to deal with.
Seeing the Bloodcloak Guard behind them starting to recover, Serena had no choice but to step up, say every good word she could think of, and promise Zane a mountain of things. Only then did this dangerous, always-on-the-verge-of-exploding genius believe that she really couldn't make bombs.
After wringing out a heap of assurances, Zane finally gave a haughty nod, signaling he’d believe Serena for now—but warned her not to let him catch her lying in the future.
Serena wiped the cold sweat from her forehead and swore up and down she wouldn’t. The Bloodcloak Guard hadn’t managed to scare her into a sweat, but Zane did—how humiliating.
Zane shifted his noble rear, making room for Serena. She finally climbed into the carriage just before the Bloodcloak Guard caught up. Jada Tang and Mira Tang stepped forward and bowed. "Miss."
"No need for formalities," Serena motioned for them to relax. Seeing Simon Sun lying on the horse, she half-knelt beside him, took his pulse, and asked, "How is Sixing?"
"Miss, the young master hasn't suffered much, just some surface wounds." Simon’s exposed skin looked fine, and in Jada and Mira's eyes, the whip marks hadn’t damaged his bones or muscles.
"Really?" Serena was clearly unconvinced. If they were just skin wounds, Sixing should've woken up with all this commotion.
Interrogation offices have endless ways to torment prisoners—she’d seen it with her own eyes. The worst injuries are never the ones you can see, but the ones hidden from view.
"Miss, after the Bloodcloak Guard took Simon away, the Wang clan’s Grand Heir personally went to the Bloodcloak Guard and ordered them to take care of Simon—not to harm him. Young Master Cui also sent the Cui Manor’s steward over. With both the Wang and Cui families pressuring them, the Bloodcloak Guard surely wouldn’t dare go too far." Jada and Mira tried to reassure her, gently wiping Simon’s face with a warm cloth.
Hearing that the Wang and Cui families had pressured the Bloodcloak Guard, Serena relaxed a little. But when she felt Simon Sun’s chaotic pulse, her expression changed dramatically.
"How could this happen?"
"Miss, what’s wrong?" Jada and Mira jumped in fright, immediately stopping what they were doing.
"Out." Serena had no time for them and sent them out at once.
"Y-yes." Jada and Mira didn’t know what had happened, but seeing how terrifying Serena’s face looked, they hurried out, not daring to linger a moment longer.
Now only Serena and Simon were left in the carriage. With no one else around, Serena didn’t hesitate—she pulled back the blanket covering Simon and undid his outer robe.
Simon’s fair skin was covered in wounds—split and bruised flesh everywhere. At first glance the injuries didn’t look deep or alarming, but on closer inspection, the wounds were pale and the blood that seeped out was light in color. Clearly, someone had treated the wounds to make them look less severe.
Serena checked Simon’s forehead—no fever, but his breathing was unstable. His brow was tightly furrowed, face full of unease. Who knew what kind of suffering he’d endured in the Bloodcloak Dungeon.
Serena gently stroked Simon’s forehead and, with that touch, discovered blood in his hair—his scalp was riddled with tiny wounds, and with every touch, black strands fell away.
"Damn it, they really used black-hand torture on Sixing." Serena’s eyes went wide, burning with fury.
The Bloodcloak Guard, warned by the Wang and Cui families, didn’t dare harm Simon openly—but in secret, they used black-hand torture, inflicting deadly injuries that left no visible trace.
Serena bit her lip, reminding herself to stay calm—Simon’s injuries still needed her to examine and treat them.
Simon’s visible wounds weren’t alarming, but the hidden ones couldn’t be seen with the naked eye. Serena activated her Smart Med-Pack and began a full check.
Normally, the Smart Med-Pack could diagnose a patient in thirty seconds, but this time, it took a full minute before it responded.
The results showed Simon had multiple soft tissue contusions, his brain had suffered a heavy blow—concussion, cranial trauma, and intracranial hematoma.
On the surface, Simon’s head looked fine, but in reality, the injury was severe. Serena carefully felt the back of his head and found a bloody crater there.
Serena didn’t dare move Simon recklessly and gently laid him flat again. She still didn’t know the full extent of his injuries—if she moved him wrong, things could get much worse.
Serena kept pressing the Smart Med-Pack, checking the rest of the results. The device’s report was vague: Simon had lung and organ injuries, multiple contusions, and needed a full hospital workup.
"You idiot apprentice, why didn’t you protect yourself?" Serena carefully lifted Simon, letting him rest against her so she could steady his head and keep the jostling carriage from making his injury worse.
Serena stroked Simon’s head with a feather-light touch, but even so, his black hair kept falling away. And these were just the wounds she could see—how many more were hidden from her?
Serena bit her lip so hard that drops of blood slid down her chin, but she felt no pain—only heartbreak at seeing Simon like this.
To her, Simon was both apprentice and little brother. She’d promised Imperial Physician Sun to take good care of Sixing—look what had happened.
Her good apprentice, so kind and gentle, had been framed by someone. Shunning Marquis Manor, just wait—if I don’t ruin you, I’m not Serena.
Serena’s tears fell silently, while outside the carriage, Jada and Mira Tang were anxious and uneasy.
"Mira, what’s wrong with Miss? Didn’t Young Master Sun turn out okay?" Jada was nervous—she’d been the one to accompany Simon to Shuning Marquis Manor, and now he’d been framed and thrown into the Bloodcloak Guard.
"Miss must be angry. Young Master Sun is such a good person, and they still went so far—those people are truly despicable." Mira didn’t really know what had happened either.
From what she saw, Simon’s injuries weren’t serious.
"Young Master Sun’s injuries shouldn’t be a big deal, just some scrapes and bruises. I checked his hands and feet—they’re fine, no injuries." Jada wasn’t one to talk much, but she was so nervous she just needed to say something to calm herself.
But Mira didn’t respond. Left Bank snorted, "Naive. The wounds you see are just on the surface—the ones that kill are the ones you can’t see."
"How... how could that be?" Left Bank’s words made Jada and Mira’s faces change, and they looked to him, hoping he’d say something reassuring.
Left Bank admitted he didn’t interact much with people—his job as an assassin demanded it, not that he disliked company by nature. Seeing Jada and Mira’s faces go pale with fright, he mischievously went on, "Of course it’s possible. You should know that in prison, the punishments you can see are never the worst. The real torture is done in secret—black-hand style."
"Black-hand?" Jada and Mira were at a loss, staring at Left Bank like eager students, hoping this newly acquainted Mr. Zuo would enlighten them.
Left Bank didn’t disappoint them. He listed the common methods of the underworld: half-meter-long silver needles jabbed into the body, wrapping the head in thick cloth and smashing it against a wall, crippling a man’s root, turning a man into a catamite, and so on...
With each example, Jada and Mira’s faces grew paler, their wide eyes filling with terror. They kept shaking their heads—no, it couldn’t be, it just couldn’t...