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Not only during the Han Dynasty but up until the invention of electricity, the night belonged to nature.
Due to the inconvenience of lighting, nights brought many unstable factors. For a long time, authorities enforced curfews. The so-called "morning bells and evening drums" were not just for telling time—they also served as a warning.
Without official business, commoners wandering the streets at night would be punished if caught by patrolling soldiers. When Cao Cao served as the Northern Gate Captain of Luoyang, he once beat the uncle of Jian Shuo to death with a club wrapped in multicolored cloth for violating the curfew.
Thus, during the Han Dynasty, the vast majority of the populace obeyed these regulations and grew accustomed to the lifestyle of "working at sunrise and resting at sunset." This was true not only in towns but also for those living in the outskirts.
So, when three armed individuals appeared at dusk, peering around, it was only natural for people to suspect they were up to no good.
By the time Fei Qian arrived at the camp, the three had already been tied to wooden stakes.
Standing nearby, Huang Cheng clenched his fists and frowned. "These three have tight lips—they refuse to say anything!" Huang Cheng was somewhat worried. The area was close to the Wuxing Mountains, and after the Yellow Turban Rebellion, many scattered remnants of the rebels had fled into the hills, turning to banditry. Though these bandits lacked combat prowess, their numbers could still pose a problem for their current group of just over a hundred men.
Huang Cheng had hoped to extract some information from the three captives, but they remained stubborn, enduring beatings without uttering a word.
Ordinary physical pain could be endured by those with strong willpower—Fei Qian couldn't help but feel a hint of admiration for them.
Not just in later eras, but even during the Han Dynasty, there were many cruel interrogation methods: flaying, the "Five Punishments," strangulation, castration, foot amputation, needle insertion, sawing, lead pouring, scrubbing, "plucking the pipa," gutting, branding…
The mere descriptions were enough to send chills down one's spine. However, most of these required specialized tools, and Huang Cheng was no expert in such matters. Apart from whipping, he hadn't found a way to break their resistance.
Fei Qian was aware of these brutal methods, but he lacked practical experience in applying them. Still, it seemed unnecessary to resort to extreme measures now.
By the firelight, Fei Qian examined the three closely, then picked up one of their ring-pommel swords and tapped it. The steel seemed of decent quality, giving him a rough idea of their background.
He circled the three men several times, chuckling darkly. Even Huang Zhong and Huang Cheng shot him sideways glances, not to mention the bound captives, who could only follow him with their eyes since their heads were immobilized.
"Who's the leader here?" Fei Qian suddenly asked.
He immediately noticed two of the men involuntarily glancing toward the third.
Ah, so it's you.
Fei Qian pulled Huang Cheng aside and whispered a few instructions.
With an impassive expression, Huang Cheng called over a few men and dragged the leader away behind a hill. A scream began—only to be abruptly cut short.
The remaining two shuddered at the sound.
Moments later, Huang Cheng returned, holding a bloodstained ring-pommel sword. Fresh droplets fell from the blade, splattering onto the ground.
The two exchanged terrified glances.
"Actually, I already know who you are," Fei Qian said with a smile, though the flickering firelight made his expression eerily unsettling.
"You're not Yellow Turban bandits—you're retainers."
He watched their eyes carefully before continuing leisurely, "…And your master has gotten into trouble, hasn't he?"
Seeing their widened eyes, Fei Qian sighed and adopted a nonchalant tone. "Let me tell you something—we're not government troops, nor do we have any interest in your family. So whether you talk or not makes no difference to me. I could've just let you go, but your stubbornness irritates me… Well, since we're in the wilderness and short on meat, I suppose we'll have to thank you for the provisions."
"…Oh, and remember to cut slowly while they're still alive. Make it thin—saves firewood."
Fei Qian waved his hand. Huang Cheng stepped forward, pinched one of the men's arms, and muttered as if to himself, "This one's flesh is tender—should taste good." He then began dragging one toward the hill.
The drastic shift in tone terrified the two untrained men nearly to the point of soiling themselves. As Huang Cheng made his move, one finally broke, screaming that he had something to say.
"Since you're willing to talk, we'll hear it," Huang Cheng said, releasing him and letting him slump to the ground. He then turned to the other. "Guess I'll deal with this silent one first—"
The other man also cried out, "W-wait! I… I'll talk too!"
The interrogation results aligned with Fei Qian's expectations. They weren't Yellow Turbans but retainers of the Chang family, a scholar-official clan from Wen County in Henei. The Changs had offended Wang Kuang, the Grand Administrator of Henei, and were relocating when they stumbled upon Fei Qian's group, prompting them to send scouts.
Since they were also from a scholar-official family, Fei Qian saw no need to continue the charade. He had Huang Cheng bring back the "executed" leader, cupped his hands in apology, and said, "Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures. I apologize for the deception. I am Fei Qian, Fei Ziyuan, of the Fey family in Heluo. May I ask your name?"
It turned out the leader had never been killed—the scream was Huang Cheng's own, and the blood on the sword came from a wild rabbit they'd caught along the way.
The leader gave a bitter smile and returned the gesture. "You're too modest, sir. That was masterfully done—I'm impressed. I am Chang Huai, Chang Zishun, of Wen County." Since Fei Qian's group wasn't sent by Wang Kuang and his men had already confessed, Chang Huai saw no reason to hide anything. He sent one man back to report while he sat down to talk with Fei Qian.
Chang Huai murmured Fei Qian's name a few times, then suddenly clasped his hands again, eyes alight with recognition. "Fei Qian, Fei Ziyuan of the Heluo Fey family… Could you be the 'Hidden Whale' Fei Qian, who studied under the great scholar Cai Yong of the Xiping Stone Classics and later learned from Pang Degong in Jingxiang?"
What?
Hidden Whale?
Fei Qian was utterly baffled. What was this? What on earth was going on?