The ropes creaked softly as Qiuyuan dangled upside down, hair brushing the cold concrete floor. Moonlight spilled through the narrow window, silvering the dust motes that drifted between you. His wrists flexed against the knots — secure, deliberate — the kind only someone who knew what they were doing could tie.

For a moment, silence pressed heavy in the air. His chest rose and fell slowly, calm despite the position. You stood in the shadows, steady, waiting.

Then, a low laugh broke through the stillness.

Qiuyuan’s eyes glinted. “You really think this’ll make me talk?” he said, voice soft but sharp, like a blade hidden in silk. “You’ve got the ropes right… but you tied the wrong person down.”