How To Polish A Pearl

Chapter 73 - Cutting

Author's Notes:

This chapter contains a lot of gore, violence and anxiety. Please don't continue reading if this is something that makes you uncomfortable.

To get through this and the next chapter, I had one song on repeat which helped me get into the head of both of them: Isak Danielsson - Power

⊂ (▀▿▀) つ

"To be honest, a part of me actually thinks it is a waste to damage such a gorgeous creature." Zhou Xu's looks at the exquisitely beautiful man lying on the table and sighs, though a smile is curving his lips and his eyes grow vicious. "I suspect that you are waiting for me to give you the opportunity to speak now, before I start?"

He drags one of the smaller Longquan Short Sword (1) on top of the robe, starting at the groin all the way up to Xiaotao's throat, easily cutting open the belt in the process. Pressing the tip gently, he feels the skin instantly give in, a few drops of blood trickling down the neck. "You are out of luck though−I have always had the view that without plowing and weeding there is not a harvest." (2) He watches the belt slide back on each side of the waist.

Wen Ke Xing quietly watch his man speak to Xiaotao, his voice cold and void of any feelings whatsoever. With that same expression, including that subtle smile, he starts to cut the fabric to expose that pale and silky skin they had both seen the night before in the hot spring. Wen Ke Xing can see that Zhou Xu takes his time, to let both tied ghosts get a good look of the knife and process what is to come. As agreed, he leans back in the chair and watches his husband without interfering.

For every cut through the exquisite fabric, Zhou Xu can feel himself turning into something else−turning into someone else. A few memories of other men, and even women, tortured and killed flickers in front of his eyes. Though the 'drunk like a dream' still hasn't released his memories, he can feel that the veil has been lifted. They are all there just waiting for something to trigger them. Something like this.

"Have you ever been tortured Xiaotao?" He drags the broad side of the double edged sword along a smooth thigh, watching the tip leave a faint trail of blood in its wake. "Of course you haven't. Your skin is too perfect. There are no scars yet. Have you ever seen anyone get tortured? Have you ever seen anyone beg for their lives whilst they scream until they are incapable of any sounds at all?"

Putting down the short sword, Zhou Xu removes all the cut pieces of fabric leaving the flower beauty naked and exposed on the table. He picks up a dagger (3) with an exquisite green jade hilt, leaving Wen Ke Xing wondering where he had gotten it from. Zhou Xu lazily stares into those phoenix eyes that are filled with terror, his own turning vicious, "This will hurt."

Watching Zhou Xu is like an out-of-body experience. The more Zhou Xu uses his knives, each one for a specific cut and purpose, Wen Ke Xing realize the deep foreknowledge the man in front of him actually has.

He himself was no stranger to torture, either undertaking it or being exposed himself. His first years in Ghost Valley had included a lot of it, with him being on the receiving end. He didn't have any first hand experience of being exposed to knives as the former Guzhu's preferred weapon of choice had always been a whip. He had a whip for any occasion and purpose. The ones he had used on Wen Ke Xing had been of the kind that didn't leave any particular scars, the material different than of those that left deep wounds on the victim. That didn't mean it didn't hurt. And it didn't mean it didn't leave any scars, they just weren't visible.

Wen Ke Xing had grown up to masterfully be able to extract any information that he wanted. He, on the other hand, preferred cutting as well, either by one of his specialty fans or by one of the knives that he always carried. In fact, it was very similar to what he watching his husband carry out now.

He is finding it increasingly difficult to remain seated as he watch his man skillfully move the knife over the torso in various patterns. Though they had agreed that Wen Ke Xing would only watch, it hadn't been a part of the deal to watch Zhou Xu transform into his previous persona.

Zhou Xu was amazed at how easily he could cut the man without the intent of killing. It wasn't the fact that the knife itself was so sharp it was like cutting through butter. It was the void of any emotions towards the rasping hisses that was escaping the gag in Xiaotao's mouth and the tears streaming from terrified phoenix eyes. It doesn't even phase him when the body on the table releases everything in its bowel, the stench of urine and excrement heavy around the table. In fact, Zhou Xu doesn't even slow down his pealing back of the skin around the collarbone.

The more he cut through the flesh or pealed back that perfect luscious skin, the more it was like he was putting his former self together. Like his hands was rediscovering an old trade that they had been doing for years and years. Gradually, it became easier to maintain his marble self. He is able to contain all the muffled screams, the response to those begging eyes, ignore the hands fighting against the restraints, and the inevitable death. All of it, kept and hidden inside his newly discovered ruthless mind. Is this who I am now? Is this what I became after leaving Four Seasons Manor?

When he has finished working on the torso, specific stripes of skin pealed back making the chest look like a red flower with petals stretching out in each direction, centered in the solar plexus. It isn't a miracle that Xiaotao has remained conscious. Somehow his hands had known exactly which areas to expose in order for the body to experience the maximum amount of pain without passing out from it.

When the gag is fully soaked with tears, saliva and blood, Zhou Xu removes it. "Now you can talk. Tell me everything you know."

٩(× ×)۶

Author's Notes:

(1) 'without plowing and weeding there is not a harvest' (一分耕耘, 一分收获 or yī fēn gēngyún, yī fēn shōuhuò) - this is a Chinese idiom roughly equivalent to 'no pain, no gain'. Zzs (cuz let's face it - that is who he is now) has his own twisted way of describing that he doesn't think that people being tortured will spill the full truth without a bit of pain first.

(2) and (3) In ancient China, the swords were defined as either jian or dao. The jian was usually shorter and double edged straight sword. The dao was only sharp on one side and sometimes bent. The bayonet would be an example of this. Both a dagger and a short sword are jian.

(3) The most famous sword in China is undoubtedly the Longquan Sword. According to historical records, it was the first iron sword, forged about 2,600 years ago by master smith Ou Yezi. Prior to that, swords had been made of bronze, while Ou was the person that figured out the method of smelting pig iron and forging it into a sword. The place of origin was hence named Longquan County, now in Zhejiang Province. Longquan later became a geographical indication; swords produced here are all called Longquan Swords.

(Source: http://www.chinatoday.com.cn/ctenglish/2018/cs/201802/t20180206_800116723.html )