The Empress' Livestream - Chapter 169
Chapter 169: The Art of Finishing Meng Liang (VI)
Meng Liang was merely an idiot who fancied himself as great as his ancestor was. Everyone who had heard about him recognized that the truth was the opposite.
If they assumed that Meng Liang would design to besiege them at the gambling house, they would be overestimating the boy’s mental competence.
“Still…” A man hesitated. “Didn’t you say Meng Liang has been at the Liu’s? The family must be looking for him right now, as they can’t afford to upset the Meng’s. It’s possible that they’ve already saved him.”
Meng Hun looked at the ground to contemplate. “True. That’s why we must hasten. If we can’t find him this time, we’ll have to wait for another chance.”
He and some of his brothers had disguised themselves as ordinary civilians to search for Meng Liang in town. They had gone to the gambling house and inspected its inner structure while they were “looking for the toilet.”
“I’ve heard that the gambling house usually keeps people at the firewood storage. Meng Liang is probably there! Here is a plan of this place. This is where firewood is stored…” The speaking man had been a scout for the Meng’s army, and he was specialized in collecting intelligence on the front. To him, surveying a medium-scale gambling house was a piece of cake.
“They’ve got quite a lot of guards. We mustn’t alarm them, or else it will be harder for us to leave Hejian tomorrow.”
One of them suggested, “What about catching Meng Liang tonight?”
Meng Hun nodded. “We wait until then. Meanwhile, let’s keep a close eye in case someone else comes for Meng Liang.”
After dusk, the stuffy firewood storage fell into darkness. Meng Liang’s arms were tied behind his back with a thick rope. The boy was lying on the ground, his body bent inwards for warmth.
His long eyelashes were trembling as his breath shook. His frowning countenance with blue and purple bruises on it could win sympathy from many, although they knew that he was not a girl.
Two guards were chatting at the door, one standing and the other sitting. Their conversation was about Meng Liang.
“Why doesn’t he say something?” One of them rubbed his arms in the chilly wind and spat at the wall. “Our boss will do anything to get the money back.”
The other man explained, “Well, he can’t. There’s something wrong with his throat and arms so he can’t even write. The spooky thing is, the physician said he’s perfectly fine! Our boss was so mad at him earlier.”
They had only caught the boy who lost thousands of silver; they could not find his friend who had taken away more than four thousand. The gambling house had earned money bit by bit, sometimes by filthy methods. The boss had never supposed that someone would win away all of his profits after years of his “diligent work.”
They had interrogated Meng Liang about where Jiang Pengji and Nongqin were, but the camp boy simply would not utter a word. They had thought he was dogged not to say it, and they beat him hard. But when they saw him cry and moan and kneel and kowtow as hard as he could, they started to believe that he really could not talk.
The guard who spoke first said, “I thought he was pretending.”
The other man rolled his eyes. “He’s too weak to bear even a little pain! Soon after we began beating him, he cried like a pig being slaughtered and knelt immediately when we told him to. He won’t have the determination to keep silent. You should see how he hugged our boss’s legs and wailed like a girl!”
“Didn’t he say he’s from the Meng’s?”
Again, the man rolled his eyes. “We all know how proud the langjuns are. Ordinary langjuns wouldn’t kneel and beg like him, let alone those from the Meng’s!”
“So this is definitely a fake one.” This guard missed what had happened in the day because of a nap at home.
Suddenly, his companion smirked and draped the guard’s shoulders with his arm. “For sure. See his pretty face? I think it’s more likely that he’s from a male brothel. I wonder what will happen when the boss tells us to teach him a lesson. Heh-heh!”
That was what Meng Liang heard when he woke, and he clenched his teeth furiously.
“What will the boss do with him?”
Meng Liang heard the other guard reply, “We won’t keep him here for long; that would only waste our food. We’ll probably sell him to Southern Mansion to pay back the money he earned, and in a few years later he’ll be freed.”
Southern Mansion was a male brothel that bisexuals and gays frequented.
Meng Liang nearly fainted again. His heart was burning with outrage. His mouth opened, but he could only produce hoarse “hm-hm” sounds; it was as if someone had wiped away his ability to articulate.
Further irritated, he banged the floor with his elbow. A flame of hatred was flickering in his eyes. He hated the people in the gambling house only less than his hate for Liu Xi, the reason for all the torture he had gone through!
During daytime, he had been slapped awake and interrogated violently. He had attempted to declare his prestigious birth, yet he could speak no words. It was as if he was born dumb. Worse still, he had lost his strength from elbows to fingers so he could not write.
The impatient guards and the boss whacked him because of it.
The spoiled child could not withstand the pain, and he soon begged the inferior beings in his eyes. He then did something more humiliating to please them, which he could not now recollect without feeling shame.
