Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

But if he confesses, he will become a criminal, and his daughter will be talked about for the rest of her life.

Zhang Jinshan, Liu Lei, and that young man hiding behind the scenes—they were certain he would be afraid, certain he would jump into the pit to protect his wife and children.

He jumped in once—he was already in the pit when he received the 30,000 yuan.

He can't jump a second time.

Song Chao forced back her tears.

He slowly raised his head, his eyes, swollen to slits, staring straight at Liu Lei. His voice trembled violently, but he enunciated each word with utmost precision.

"If you harm my wife and children, I will haunt you even as a ghost. My life, Song Chao's life, is worthless; you can take it. But I will never admit to anything I didn't do, not even in death."

Liu Lei's smile gradually faded.

He stared at Song Chao's face, which had been beaten beyond recognition, and at his eyes, which were swollen into slits but hard as stone, without saying a word for a long time.

He wanted to find a hint of relenting, a plea for mercy, something he could crush in the man's eyes.

But he couldn't find it.

This 27-year-old migrant worker had his back almost broken and was covered in blood. His wife's "confession" was in front of him, and his daughter's kindergarten had been exposed, but he still wouldn't give in.

A strange feeling welled up inside Liu Lei—a kind of irritable frustration stemming from embarrassment and anger.

He had seen far too many people break down in this interrogation room.

Some knelt down and begged for mercy, some wet their pants in fear, and some signed the papers while crying.

He had seen dynasties like the Song Dynasty before.

But those tough nuts eventually gave in.

with no exceptions.

But this Song Dynasty was fearless.

I'm not afraid of being hit, I'm not afraid of being scared, and I'm not afraid of being threatened with my wife and children.

Liu Lei slammed the cigarette butt in his hand onto the ground and stomped on it, grinding it down.

"Fine, you've got guts."

He turned around and waved to the two interrogators.

"Keep going. Keep hitting him until he tells you."

Two interrogators rushed up again and started punching and kicking him once more.

The police baton struck his back, legs, and ribs. Song Chao curled up into a ball, his bones cracking, but he gritted his teeth and remained silent.

His consciousness began to blur, and the stark white lights of the interrogation room spun before his eyes.

But one image remained etched in his mind.

Yuan Qiao and Niu Niu stood under the osmanthus tree in front of their house, waiting for him. The osmanthus blossoms were scattered all over the ground, their fragrance so sweet it made one want to cry.

If he confesses, he will never have the face to stand under that osmanthus tree again in his life.

In the corridor outside the interrogation room, Liu Lei leaned against the wall and lit another cigarette.

The young security guard next to him cautiously leaned over and glanced in the direction of the interrogation room.

"Captain Liu, if this guy keeps fighting, something bad is going to happen."

Liu Lei exhaled a puff of smoke and remained silent.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

He took it out and saw a secret message with only four words: "How is it?"

Liu Lei glanced at the interrogation room door, then at his phone screen, hovered his thumb over the keyboard for a few seconds, and finally typed three words and sent them.

He denies it.

There was a two-minute silence on the other end.

Then I replied.

"Useless. I'll have someone else handle the confession. Stop it, don't kill him, it'll only cause more trouble."

Liu Lei put his phone back in his pocket and shouted into the interrogation room.

"Alright, stop hitting."

The sounds of fists and kicks in the interrogation room stopped.

Two interrogators emerged, panting heavily. One of them rubbed his fist and cursed, saying that the son of a bitch was too stubborn.

Liu Lei walked into the interrogation room and looked at the man covered in blood sitting in the chair.

The Song Dynasty woman's clothes were torn at the chest, revealing bruised and purple skin underneath. Her face was so swollen that it was unrecognizable, and her lips were split in several places, with blood and saliva mingling and dripping down. Her eyes were swollen into slits, but the light shining through those slits was as hard as a nail.

Liu Lei looked down at him, trying to find a hint of pleading in the man's eyes.

But all he saw was hatred.

A hatred that seeps from the very bones, a hatred that is swallowed down with gritted teeth.

Liu Lei suddenly found it a bit ridiculous.

These people at the bottom of society have nothing, so poor that they have to save for months to buy their daughters a scooter. They are trampled underfoot and cheated by everyone, yet they still talk about integrity and innocence.

If you really had backbone, why didn't you just refuse to work for Zhang Jinshan in the first place?

He shook his head, walked over and loosened one of Song Chao's handcuffs, leaving the other hand still cuffed to the armrest of the chair.

"You may not acknowledge the Song Dynasty. But let me tell you, whether you acknowledge it or not, the result is the same."

He straightened his collar, which had been slightly tugged when he hit the person.

"The court doesn't judge based on whether you admit it or not, it judges based on the evidence. The evidence we have now is enough to sentence you to three years. If you don't admit it, you'll just get a few more beatings."

He turned and walked out, his leather shoes making a dull thud on the cement floor. He paused at the door and glanced back at Song Chao.

"By the way, we'll still 'investigate' your wife. It's standard investigative procedure; we can't just stop investigating because you're being stubborn, can we?"

The interrogation room door closed behind him with a click, the latch locking into the door frame.

The pale white lights were still buzzing, and the ballast's sound buzzed around my ears like flies.

Song Chao leaned back in an iron chair, blood seeping from all the wounds on his body, and his lumbar spine ached as if a steel spike was piercing through his bones.

But he didn't cry.

He just shed tears in front of Liu Lei; it was only the second time in his life he had cried in front of someone else.

The first time was on their wedding night. He drank too much and cried while holding Yuan Qiao.

That was a happy thing.

Today's tears are not.

Today's tears are tears of hatred.

He thought about it from beginning to end and finally understood it all.

From the day the quality inspection station discovered the problem with the steel bars, Zhang Jinshan had been looking for a scapegoat.

He chose him because he was the most honest, the easiest to bully, and had the least family background.

That 30,000 yuan wasn't a bonus; it was a deposit for his three years of freedom.

In the eyes of these powerful figures, his life was worth less than that of a dog.

They can trample on him, cheat him, and make him take the blame whenever they want; he doesn't even have the right to say "no."

Song Chao closed his eyes, his swollen eyelids pressing down heavily, blocking out the last bit of light.

In the darkness, he saw Yuan Qiao, Niu Niu, and the osmanthus tree in full bloom at home.

They were still waiting for him to come back.

He can't just accept it like that.

He cannot fall here.

Deep within his heart, the dark golden seed of his soul was frantically drawing nourishment from his surging hatred.

The roots burrowed deeper and deeper, and a tiny crack appeared on the seed's outer shell.

A faint, dark golden light flowed within the crack, like molten iron ready to gush out at any moment.