A cold laugh drifted through the air. The Third Prince had never revealed such layered expressions before. He rolled Mu Xueshi’s words over in his mind and said, almost idly, “You wish to rely on the Second Prince?”
Mu Xueshi failed entirely to hear the danger beneath the tone. He protested earnestly, “Your Highness, please don’t assume everyone is driven by ambition. I reported it purely out of conscience. I don’t know how things are done here, but where I come from, it’s nothing extraordinary. Let alone taking a child’s life—if someone merely sought to teach him a lesson, I’d still inform them without hesitation…”
The scroll in the Third Prince’s hand crumpled with a sharp crack.
Mu Xueshi regretted his firmness at once. A man as proud as the Third Prince deserved a measure of face.
The prince advanced, tearing away the silver-thread membrane from Mu Xueshi’s face. Pain flared; Mu Xueshi instinctively touched his cheek, grimacing.
“Wear this face,” the Third Prince said without emotion, “and accept every punishment.”
Like a dog dragged by the leash, Mu Xueshi was hauled into the torture chamber. Countless vicious instruments gleamed there; imagining their uses sent shivers through him.
He refused to give up. Alone now with the prince, he would seize every chance to plead. Yet before he could speak, the Third Prince began reciting his crimes:
Lies. Insolence. Secret investigation. Betrayal. Leaking information…
For lies and insolence alone, half his life would be forfeit.
Mu Xueshi trembled as he watched the prince toy with several marble-sized pellets in his palm before stepping closer.
“Hold this.”
A gray pellet was placed before him.
“Your Highness, I truly meant no harm! I pitied Su Ying—he’s only a child! If anyone sought to harm you, I would risk everything to warn you as well!”
At first the prince remained unmoved. But at the last sentence, something nudged faintly against his chest. His hand paused. Then a mocking look surfaced—contempt for what he took to be a desperate attempt at flattery.
Seeing that expression, Mu Xueshi felt an inexplicable ache. What began as deception now felt like sincerity misunderstood.
With a bitter smile, he placed the pellet in his mouth. It was tasteless, faintly astringent. Convinced it was poison, he hid it beneath his tongue, not daring to swallow. Only then did he notice the thin translucent filament attached to it, the other end wound around the prince’s finger. With a slight tug, the pellet popped from his mouth.
“What is this?” Mu Xueshi asked, lips trembling.
Gazing at the innocent curiosity upon that exquisite face, the Third Prince felt, unexpectedly, the urge to explain.
“This is a fire pellet,” he said calmly. “Quite interesting. I light it from this end. When the flame reaches the thread’s end, the pellet in your mouth will explode. It won’t kill you—only teach your mouth to behave.”
Futile Devices Scans 
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