Marrying a Disabled General and be His Wife

The soldier interrogating the shopkeeper looked up, spotting Feng Chilie. He hurried over and stood in front of him. “General, are you okay?”

“It’s fine,” Feng Chilie replied absentmindedly. “Why are you here?”

“General Ji Bei doesn’t trust you could die,” the soldier explained. “He sent us to look for you.”

“Tell Ji Bei I’m fine,” Feng Chilie instructed. “Once the supplies are delivered, don’t rush to distribute them. Gather the affected people in each city, have soldiers prepare ginger soup to ward off the cold for the victims, and then provide them with porridge. Additionally, prioritize distributing cotton-padded clothes to the elderly and children. If there’s a shortage, go to Ling-han Pavilion to purchase more.”

The general listened attentively, taking Feng Chilie’s instructions to heart. He eyed Feng Chilie doubtfully, asking, “What about you, General? Aren’t you going back with us?”

“Not for the time being. I want to see for myself,” Feng Chilie replied. “Besides, Jiang Che is there with the Wolf Eagle Cavalry, and my mother is also there, so it doesn’t matter much whether I go or not now.”

“The subordinate understand,” the soldiers saluted. “I excuse myself.”

.

Once the soldiers left, Feng Chilie turned his attention to the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper stood straight, nervous at heart. He had heard that General Feng Chilie was sent by Jing Kingdom for relief.

‘But isn’t Feng Chilie disabled?’

The man in front of him looked stronger than an ox, far from resembling a cripple!

Kneeling down, the shopkeeper repeatedly kowtowed, pleading, “General, I have wronged you due to my misguided obsession. Please forgive me!”

With no other guests in the inn, the shopkeeper feared no witnesses. Feng Chilie instructed the trembling waiter to close the door. Seating himself next to Tan Chuyan, Feng Chilie looked sternly at the shopkeeper. “Did I say I wanted to kill you?”

“No. No,” stammered the shopkeeper.

Feng Chilie kicked the shopkeeper in the chest. “Then why are you trembling before me?”

“I’m afraid!” The shopkeeper covered his aching chest. “I’m just afraid!”

“Fine, have it your way.” Feng Chilie took the tea that Tan Chuyan poured for him and asked, “Tell me, who is the master behind you?”

“Master?” The shopkeeper feigned ignorance. “There really is no master behind me! Please! General you must know this!”

“Do you think I am a fool?” Feng Chilie lifted the shopkeeper’s chin with a spear. “If you don’t tell the truth, I will make you experience the feeling of having your throat stabbed through.”

The shopkeeper faced death indifferently. “Then, General, just stab me. There is no master behind this commoner!”

Feng Chilie frowned, realizing he couldn’t let himself go too far. If he really stabbed the shopkeeper, they wouldn’t get any information.

Military interrogations often involve severe punishments, leading people to speak out in desperation. However, without torture instruments at hand, their options were limited.

Feeling a bit lost, Tan Chuyan patted the back of Feng Chilie’s tense hand. “Don’t be angry. I’ll handle it.”

Tan Chuyan stood up, squatted in front of the shopkeeper, and retrieved a modified lancet from his boot. He took an empty tea cup, producing a soft scraping sound as he sharpened the knife.

After honing the blade, Tan Chuyan lifted his gaze and looked at the shopkeeper. “If you remain silent, you’re merely confirming that we won’t kill you. But do you know there are countless ways to torture someone without killing them?”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying!” The shopkeeper eyed the reflective blade, pushing back. “No master means no master.”

“Alright then, have it your way.”

Tan Chuyan said casually, stepping on the shopkeeper’s chest. He then lifted him up and secured him to a thick pillar.

Using a knife, Tan Chuyan cut open the front of the shopkeeper’s clothes, letting out a light tut, and muttered to himself, “Feng Chilie’s figure is quite impressive than this.”

Yet, when mentioning Feng Chilie, Tan Chuyan’s heart swelled with an emotion called reluctance. It was evident he didn’t want Feng Chilie to bridge the gap and draw closer, but when Feng Chilie hesitated, an uncomfortable feeling stirred within him.

Suppressing the reluctance, Tan Chuyan placed the lancet on the shopkeeper’s body and made an incision. “Whether you have it or not is up to you, but whether I can cut you into pieces alive,”

Tan Chuyan applied pressure, and a piece of crystal-clear flesh hung from the knife. He stated firmly, “I have the final say.”

The shopkeeper cried out in pain. Although no blood was visible, the pain radiated through his entire skeletal frame.

Tan Chuyan tossed the severed piece of meat to the ground, preparing for the second cut. The shopkeeper, unfamiliar with such punishment, relaxed before the next strike. “I’ll talk, I’ll talk! I’ll confess everything!”

“The last person to endure this punishment lasted through ninety-nine cuts. You’re already breaking after just one. It’s pathetic,” Tan Chuyan glanced at the shopkeeper, threw the soiled lancet into the pillar, nailing it next to the shopkeeper.

Simultaneously, the room filled with the smell of urine as the shopkeeper, terrified, lost control.

“Trash.”

Tan Chuyan muttered, pressing the veil to his nose, and the scent of Feng Chilie suddenly wafted into his senses.