Jiaohua

Chapter 1158 Dark Room Torture Tool
Zhao Gong is not a chatterbox.

On the contrary, he was the one who, with a slight smile on his face and an unfathomable face, was holding a folding fan while others were chattering and talking non-stop.

But now, the more the other party ignored him, the more upset he was, so he wanted to find a topic to make them pay attention to him.

Along the way, in the limited light of the small oil ball lamp, they stepped down the last step.

At first glance, the space is not big, compared to the Qianqiu Palace where Xia Zhaoyi and Shen Lie have been, this place is very small.

The walls were uncarved, the floor was not paved with bricks, and one after another dilapidated wooden doors were opened on those rock walls.

The arrangement of the wooden doors is irregular, crooked, roughly forming a semicircle, surrounding the open space with a radius of less than one mu in the middle.

The entire underground space is simple, simple, and primitive. In the light of the small oil ball lamp, some small insects can still be seen crawling on the rock wall.

Xia Zhaoyi looked at those little bugs and said, "These little bugs are attracted to light, they should hate such a dark place."

Zhao Gong said: "So there may be other exits here?"

"Well," Xia Zhaoyi nodded, "or a certain mountain wall is very thin, and these bugs can come and go freely."

"Ali," Shen Lie raised his eyebrows and looked up at the sky, "Look."

Xia Zhaoyi and Zhao Gong looked up at the same time, and there was a painting on the top of the potholes.

But the bumpy roof does not affect the viewing of this painting at all. The painters included all the twists and turns in the ups and downs in the painting.

"This idea is truly unique," Zhao Gong said, "But what is this painting about?"

"There is a river here." The small oil ball lamp in Shen Lie's hand illuminated a mottled ancient river in the painting.

"These are ceramics," Xia Zhaoyi looked to the other side, and the light in his hand illuminated them inch by inch. "Most of them are fish-shaped patterns, which are painted pottery patterns. There are also copper knives, animal bones, bronze wares, and jade wares..."

Xia Zhaoyi stopped suddenly, and looked at the huge open space between the river and the ceramics together with Shen Lie.

"It's the cemetery." Shen Lie said.

One after another, the tombs are arranged in an orderly manner, with eight vertical and horizontal, totaling 64.

In front of the tomb are two huge statues, symbolizing tribal leaders or kings.

Xia Zhaoyi looked around and said: "The painting is made of mineral materials, and the color will last for a long time. But... this painting feels very strange to me. It has nothing to do with the content, but the painting skill."

Zhao Gong suddenly hooked his lips and smiled brightly: "This painting is indeed strange. If you say that it has a fine composition, it has no details and is a mess. But if you say that it has no layout, it can be completely laid out in the potholes. On the top of the rock wall, when you look at it, there is no confusing sense of up and down, left and right. Looking at this painting skill again, it is smooth and neat in all directions, horizontal, vertical and circular, harmonious with left and right, with precise proportions and even force But the things painted are just things, and you can feel the charm of the things, but you can't feel the spirit and spirit."

"Blunt, without meaning." Xia Zhaoyi said.

"Well, that's what it means."

"Looks like I drew it." Xia Zhaoyi said again.

"Huh?" Zhao Gong raised his eyebrows and looked in surprise, "A Li, you..."

Xia Zhaoyi laughed, and said, "I mean, this person's painting skills are similar to mine."

She has never been good at drawing. The things she draws can only make people who see her paintings understand what she is painting, but they have no artistic conception, no air, and no appreciation value.

She is more suitable for construction drawings, road drawings, or to divide a wooden tenon and mark the parts one by one.

"Ali," Shen Lie looked at her, "I thought of someone."

Xia Zhaoyi smiled slightly: "I think we might be thinking of the same person."

"Who?" Zhao Gong asked.

Xia Zhaoyi turned around, walked towards the wooden door closest to her, and said, "My master and I have been looking for a man named Feng. His name is Feng Qingang, also known as Feng Guoqiao."

Because Qian Sibi was leading them between them, Zhao Gong raised his heels, his eyes brightened: "Your master, isn't that the old man from Liling?"

"Ah."

"What kind of person is this wind crossing the bridge?"

"Wicked man." Saying that, Xia Zhaoyi stepped through the open wooden door.

Chen Yunqi, who was hiding in the darkness in the distance, ran wildly with her heart beating, clutching the front of her clothes tightly.

Chuzheng is there, and they still have light in their hands, so they must be able to find Chuzheng...

How to do?
Chen Yunqi looked at the wooden door just now, and his pupils became darker.

Ji Sheng walked at the back, and as soon as he entered the wooden door, he frowned because of the pungent smell.

"What's this smell..." Zhao Gong asked.

Xia Zhaoyi said thoughtfully: "Dinsha, tung oil, salt, perilla, thyme..."

"Will it be poisonous?" Zhao Gong asked worriedly.

"Yes, don't touch it, don't put it in your mouth." Xia Zhaoyi said.

Shen Lie's eyes fell on the surrounding instruments of torture.

Six long tables were placed along the wall, and besides the tables, there were three weapon racks, all of which were filled with instruments of torture.

The instruments of torture were old and dull in color, but there was not much rust on them.

Shen Lie walked over, looked carefully with black eyes, and said, "The table is dusty and dusty, but there is no scratch at all. However, these instruments of torture can be seen to be used frequently."

Large and small, there are more than 100 torture instruments.

Xia Zhaoyi's eyebrows were lightly drawn together, and she realized that she knew all these instruments of torture.

Five years ago in front of the Changhe Hall, the master gave her an unnamed book written by Feng Qingang, which contained the records of these instruments of torture.

Later, in Mr. Liu He's place, besides seeing the exact same book, she also found a few books that were also written by Feng Qingang.

Xia Zhaoyi said: "I don't think I am careless in handling things, but sometimes I knock things over. It seems that Feng Qingang should like these instruments of torture very much, and handle them with care, lest they hurt them. His Highness Qianqiu's instruments of torture are stained with rust. , a lot of wear and tear, severe cases, even broken into several pieces. From this point of view, this is Feng Qingang's 'home', he and those people may not be the same way, just 'guidance' or forging those batches instruments of torture."

In addition to the instruments of torture, there were several large boxes in the room. Xia Zhaoyi rolled the handkerchief in his arms obliquely into a long and thin strip, wrapped it under his nose, tied it behind his head, and then drew out the dagger.

Before opening the box, she cut the wooden box with a dagger.

The sharp blade that cuts iron like mud is very fast and indestructible, and can easily cut a hole in a thick wooden box.

She took out three soft flat strips and poked them in.

After waiting for a while, Xia Zhaoyi took out the strips, and none of the three strips changed in color.

"My lord, is Miss Ali testing poison?" Ji Sheng asked.

Zhao Gong looked proud: "This son just woke her up with a word, and she just knew that she was going to test the poison."

"Just these three flat strips? Don't you need silver needles?"

"I told you not to go to the teahouse to listen to books, but you don't believe me, the silver needles are not very useful at all," Zhao Gong looked at the girl, "Anyway, now, what A Li says is what she says, and you can't be wrong for an old man from Liling."

After confirming that it was non-toxic, Xia Zhaoyi used a long needle to pry open the lock on the outside of the box.

As soon as the light from the small oil ball lamp shone over, Zhao Gong seemed to put on a mask of pain, and hurriedly turned his head away.

(End of this chapter)