Chapter 6

With a loud thud, Wang Deming crashed heavily onto the ground. The imperial kitchen fell into a sudden silence, save for the crackling of the firewood. No one dared step forward or speak; the oppressive heat caused everyone to break into a sweat, and even some inexperienced young eunuchs began to tremble.

“Playing dead?” Xue Jin’an tilted his head. Hearing the pounding heartbeat at about eighty percent health, he knew this man was not truly unconscious.

But he didn’t care. Whether fainted or not made no difference to his plan to extract the battery. After all, Wang Deming was offering it freely; it was his right.

Adjusting his parameters, Xue Jin’an squatted down and slowly raised the knife in his hand, aiming precisely at Wang Deming’s chest. Thinking of the new battery soon to be his, he curved his lips and kindly warned, “Control your heartbeat, or you’ll bleed too much and increase the risk of death.”

The human heart is roughly equivalent to a phone’s battery; human blood is like a phone’s power. But unlike a phone that simply shuts down when the battery dies and can be restarted by recharging, a human who bleeds out dies and becomes a corpse. To revive a corpse requires either zombification or soul restoration—things beyond mortal capability.

“I’ll finish before your blood runs dry,” Xue Jin’an assured, emphasizing he only wanted to replace the battery, not to kill.

To the onlookers, however, this sounded like: “I will torture you until you bleed out.”

Wang Deming was speechless.

Shaking uncontrollably, the fainted eunuch tightly shut his eyes, shadows dancing beneath his lids. Finally, he couldn’t hold back a loud cry and sprang up from the ground, catching Xue Jin’an off guard.

Wang Deming fell to his knees, weeping bitterly. “I know my fault, I know my fault, I— I beg to be sent to the Department of Punishments. Seventh Prince, please spare my life, I beg you!”

He kowtowed heavily, his forehead soon bleeding.

The battery Xue Jin’an sought flew away, and he frowned in discontent, speaking coldly, “No need to go to the Department of Punishments. I won’t fine you; I only want your heart as compensation.”

Demanding his life outright, and yet that was all? Wang Deming felt a chill run through his body and shook his head frantically. “No, no, I am willing to accept punishment at the Department of Punishments. Seventh Prince, please grant my plea!”

His tone was so resolute it seemed less a plea for punishment and more a request to serve the emperor personally. An outsider might even think the Department of Punishments was a place of honor.

The Department of Punishments was one of the three judicial offices within the palace, but its interrogation methods were far more brutal. Eunuchs and palace maids who entered rarely emerged without lasting injuries, which showed just how desperate Wang Deming was to survive beneath Xue Jin’an’s blade.

Xue Jin’an felt no remorse for his intention to extract the heart; he only thought the old man was truly wicked. Even if he didn’t understand human emotions or the art of language, he could sense the malice in Wang Deming’s actions. The old eunuch had ill will toward him and had deliberately tried to sabotage him through the little eunuch Lu. Such a man suddenly offering to accept punishment could hardly be sincere.

Xue Jin’an pondered, drawing on what he had heard from otaku about humans being diverse, including some who enjoyed being abused—the more severe the harm, the greater their pleasure.

Indeed, many eunuchs in novels had such masochistic tendencies. It seemed Wang Deming was a confirmed masochist.

“I’m not inclined to reward you,” Xue Jin’an once again coldly refused.

Department of Punishments? Reward?

Wang Deming nearly choked on his words, and the expressions of those around turned strange.

The imperial kitchen was a cushy post within the palace, staffed by sharp-witted people adept at reading the will of their superiors. Just one overheard phrase was enough to comprehend the meaning.

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The young eunuchs with weaker resolve couldn’t help but glance at Wang Deming, their minds involuntarily flashing back to previous scenes; some bashful ones blushed.

Humiliated and desperate, Wang Deming was about to make a desperate grab for the knife when a familiar voice called out from the crowd, “What’s going on here? Why is Seventh Prince so furious?”

Xue Jin’an turned to see an elderly eunuch stepping forward—a man Wang Deming had respectfully handed a food box to earlier. His skin was wrinkled and leathery, eyes narrowed in a kindly smile, and his appearance unassuming.

Since Xue Jin’an had started his confrontation with Wang Deming, he hadn’t heard any outside movement; either the old eunuch had been there all along or his arrival had gone unnoticed.

Watching his steady footsteps, the unshaken large food box in his hand, and his calm, strong breathing and heartbeat, it was clear this was an elderly eunuch in good health and with some martial prowess.

A strange feeling arose in Xue Jin’an’s chest—he thought: How is it that such an old eunuch, seemingly on the verge of retirement, has a battery healthier than mine?

Later, Xue Jin’an learned this feeling was called frustration.

“Eunuch Lu, please save me!” Wang Deming seized the man’s leg like a lifeline.

The little eunuch Lu stood alert beside his master and whispered, “Master, that is Lu Bingzhu, Eunuch Lu of the Palace of Tranquil Benevolence.”

The Palace of Tranquil Benevolence was the residence of the Grand Empress Dowager. Since there was no Empress Dowager in this reign—his Majesty’s birth mother had died young—the emperor was raised by the Grand Empress Dowager and held great respect for her and her attendants.

The original story was already at the thirty-fifth year of the Jiahe era by this point, and the Grand Empress Dowager had long passed away. Xue Jin’an knew little of the Palace of Tranquil Benevolence, except for two key events: first, at the story’s start, the emperor confided to an old nurse there about his sons’ restlessness, lamenting the loneliness under imperial authority; second, near the end of the succession struggle, the aging emperor, against his ministers’ wishes, went to the royal mausoleum to pay respects to the Grand Empress Dowager and quietly drank with an elderly eunuch guarding the tomb, eventually entrusting the succession edict to him.

That eunuch was Lu Bingzhu.

He had served since the Grand Empress Dowager’s time as empress, spanning three reigns, and was the first overseer of the Department of Clothing. He had a mentor-disciple relationship with Li Hechun, chief eunuch of Qianyuan Palace. Due to this, Lu Bingzhu held high status in the palace, and though retired to the Palace of Tranquil Benevolence for years, palace ladies still respectfully called him Overseer Lu.

Little Lu was frightened by his master’s reckless behavior and specifically mentioned Lu Bingzhu’s identity as a warning—cutting down Wang Deming was one thing, but accidentally injuring Overseer Lu would be disastrous.

Had Xue Jin’an caught the implication, he would have dismissed it as overthinking. With his dilapidated body, Lu Bingzhu was still a formidable martial artist; no one could best the old man.

Xue Jin’an responded with a noncommittal “Oh,” his gaze returning to Wang Deming. “He promised to compensate me.”

Wang Deming immediately kowtowed. “I humbly accept forty lashes!”

Earlier he had begged for punishment at the Department of Punishments, now he asked for lashes. Quite the schemer. Forty lashes could kill or merely injure superficially. Since Wang Deming was caught red-handed by a prince, a harsh lesson was deserved—half-dead would suffice, and then he could be dismissed from the imperial kitchen.

Lu Bingzhu lowered his gaze briefly, his expression calm but decisive, sealing a man’s fate.

“What does Seventh Prince think?” Lu Bingzhu paused, then added, “If lashes are chosen, this old servant can oversee the punishment personally, ensuring Your Highness’s satisfaction.”

The implication was clear: he agreed to the lashes.

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“Master,” Little Lu tugged at Xue Jin’an’s sleeve.

Xue Jin’an simulated several scenarios of conflict with Lu Bingzhu, consuming 3% of his battery power and concluding his current combat strength was insufficient; the system advised temporary retreat.

Yet Xue Jin’an was reluctant to give up. He puffed his cheeks unconsciously. “I still want him to compensate me.” For a free battery.

“What a persistent child,” Lu Bingzhu chuckled sincerely and advised earnestly, “Seventh Prince, it is not a bad thing to show mercy where possible.”

“Moreover, compared to a swift death, living helplessly is the greatest suffering,” Lu Bingzhu added with a meaningful glance.

Wang Deming’s face turned ghostly pale. He lowered his hands in defeat, eyes filled with fear and unease, sensing he may have made the wrong choice.

When Lu Bingzhu agreed to oversee the punishment, two benches were promptly set outside the imperial kitchen, and Wang Deming was dragged up to be publicly flogged in front of all the eunuchs.

With a wooden gag in his mouth, his screams were stifled. Blow after blow fell, each more painful than the last, blood surging with pain. The young eunuchs watching turned pale; their expressions were even more pitiful than the punished man’s.

Lu Bingzhu’s actions were also a rebuke to the kitchen staff. Favoritism and bullying were common in the palace, but to so blatantly abuse a prince was excessive.

One could imagine that after today, the palace would be calmer, and the ladies would worry less.

Xue Jin’an, still upset over missing out on a free battery, watched the punishment for a while. But seeing Wang Deming’s health rapidly decline, he lost interest and thought Lu Bingzhu’s treatment was somewhat wasteful.

Little Lu, though resentful of Wang Deming for bullying his master, was kind-hearted and couldn’t bear the bloody scene; he simply gathered the leftover food boxes and left the kitchen without charge.

“Let’s go,” Xue Jin’an said wearily, turning to leave.

“Coming, coming,” Little Lu struggled to carry the heavy food boxes, hurrying to catch up.

They did not expect to soon encounter the fourth prince rushing by, his clothes disheveled and face sullen. Upon seeing Xue Jin’an, he merely glared fiercely but said nothing.

Shunde, carrying a book box, trailed behind silently, looking miserable.

Xue Jin’an watched their retreating backs, secretly coveting the fourth prince’s battery. Wang Deming had inadvertently provided a way to obtain free batteries—he had no money, but he could provoke others into compensating him.

The fourth prince was disliked by the original owner; if Xue Jin’an could provoke him enough, the prince would surely want to strike back, giving Xue Jin’an a legitimate claim for compensation.

Yes, it would have to be done discreetly—if Lu Bingzhu appeared again, that would be problematic. Xue Jin’an’s gaze quietly locked onto the fourth prince, contemplating this.

“The fourth prince is late for class again; looks like he’s going to be punished,” Little Lu said with some schadenfreude. Turning, he saw his master staring blankly after the fourth prince, a bitter sorrow filling his heart.