Chapter 27

Deep within the Eastern Depot dungeons, the humid air felt as if it had solidified into a thousand-year chill. Heavy iron doors blocked out the clamor of the world above, leaving only flickering candlelight to dance in the dampness. The scent of sulfur, mingled with the acrid smoke of burning mugwort, wrapped around every breath like an invisible net. Moss on the stone walls twisted and contorted in the shadows, looking for all the world like countless faces contorted in agony. Cold torture implements gleamed with a sinister light, and the occasional rattle of iron chains only added to the ghastly atmosphere. Seepage from the ceiling dripped through mottled cracks, forming small puddles on the ground that mirrored the dancing candlelight like flickering Ghost Fire—as if whispering the stories of the many wronged souls who had perished here. Gu Jinghong had chosen this place to treat Shen Mingyue for profound reasons. As the most heavily guarded location within the Eastern Depot, the dungeon was equipped with layers of traps and hidden sentries, making it impossible for outsiders to approach. The bronze gate at the entrance weighed over a thousand pounds and required three copper wheels inscribed with Sanskrit to be turned simultaneously; behind it lay dozens of hidden, poison-tipped crossbows.