The Prison Break

Shen Jingchuan put away the horse, walked over, and patted him on the shoulder, looking annoyed.

"No, can I get down?"

Zhou Tong chuckled awkwardly, but his eyes were still fixed on Chang'an City. Unable to suppress the thought in his mind, he moved closer again.

"Brother Shen, I have something to ask you." He rubbed his hands together, his face full of eagerness. "How much would a horse like yours cost?"

"Don't laugh at me, I've put all the money in the Zhou Household into this, hoping to buy one too."

Shen Jingchuan glanced at him.

"Forget about it. Even if you could afford to buy one, you couldn't afford to keep it; and even if you could keep it, you couldn't keep it alive," he said slowly. "You're not a cultivator; those kinds of horses won't listen to you."

"Besides, if they really got angry, dealing with someone like you would be like crushing an ant. Even I wouldn't be a match for them."

Zhou Tong was taken aback and swallowed hard.

"Wouldn't that make it a monster?"

Shen Jingchuan raised his hand and lightly flicked his forehead.

"What monster?" He glared at Zhou Tong. "This is my contracted spirit beast. It has a pact with me and only listens to me. No one else can do that."

"Give up on that idea."

The two rested in the woods for a while before heading towards the city gate.

Upon reaching the city gate, Zhou Tong was in a dilemma. He had escaped and possessed his travel permit, but he dared not take it out—wouldn't that be walking right into a trap?

Seeing his troubled expression, Shen Jingchuan didn't say anything and walked straight to the bottom of the doorway.

Just as the guards were about to reach out to question him, he raised his hand, flicked his fingers lightly, and a wisp of flame danced on his fingertip, glowing faintly.

The soldiers were startled and took a half step back, their eyes wide with surprise.

"What the hell is this?"

These soldiers were guarding the gates of Chang'an, not the Capital, and had never seen such a strange phenomenon before.

Shen Jingchuan looked at them, his tone indifferent.

"I have no travel permit, nor do I need one." The flame at his fingertips flickered and flew towards a few soldiers. "You think your city gate can stop me? I just don't want to make a scene in public."

The soldiers swallowed hard, looking at each other, none of them daring to step forward. One of the quicker ones turned and ran to the side, finding their squad leader.

The garrison commander had never seen or heard of this person before, only knowing that this was someone he couldn't afford to offend—could he be a legendary immortal master?

He rushed over in a few steps, bending over like a shrimp, and repeatedly cupped his hands in greeting.

"Immortal Master, please forgive us, we were blind." He stepped aside to let him pass. "Immortal Master, please come in."

Shen Jingchuan didn't reply, extinguished the flame, put his hands behind his back, and swaggered into the city.

Zhou Tong followed behind with his neck hunched, his heart pounding in his chest. He only let out a long sigh of relief once they entered the city.

Once in town, the two found an inconspicuous inn, booked a room, and asked the innkeeper to bring up some food. They ate and chatted.

After taking a few bites, Zhou Tong put down his chopsticks and lowered his voice.

"Brother Shen, to be honest, I do have some connections in Chang'an City." He looked troubled, "But given my current status, it's really inconvenient for me to show myself."

He paused, feeling uncertain.

"Our family's case was ostensibly handled by the prince and the heir apparent, but now both of them have died in the chaos of war. As for what will happen next, nobody can say for sure."

I'm not sure if my old connections would dare to get involved in this mess.

Shen Jingchuan waved his hand, stopping him from saying anything more.

"No need for that trouble." He picked up a piece of food, his tone perfectly casual. "I'll rescue them when it gets dark."

Zhou Tong was taken aback, then nodded.

"If you're willing to help, I believe you can definitely rescue them." He scratched his head, looking puzzled. "But didn't you tell us yesterday that immortal cultivators shouldn't get involved in the fighting and killing of ordinary people like us?"

Shen Jingchuan smiled.

"Surely a martial arts master could do it," he put down his chopsticks. "A martial arts expert could scale walls and rooftops to rescue someone—aren't those kinds of stories common in folk tales?"

"In the dark, who would know what I do?"

Zhou Tong wanted to say something more, but Shen Jingchuan waved his hand again.

"Don't worry, I'm just breaking someone out of prison, I don't need any special magic." He said confidently, "Just listen to me tonight."

"I don't want to take action during the day because I'm afraid of causing a scene and attracting gossip. Otherwise, we could have easily brought them out by now."

After listening, Zhou Tong's concerns completely disappeared, and he nodded emphatically.

"Okay, then I'll do as you say."

The two were in the inn. Zhou Tong tossed and turned on the bed, his heart pounding with anxiety, until he finally managed to doze off for a while in the middle of the night.

Shen Jingchuan cultivated for three Greater Celestial Circuit, glancing at his watch every now and then.

Around 4 a. m., he got up and woke Zhou Tong up.

"They're gone."

Zhou Tong sat up abruptly, rubbed his face, and hastily put on his clothes.

The two of them each picked up a prepared black cloth and covered their faces, leaving only their eyes exposed.

Shen Jingchuan drew a long sword, its blade hovering in mid-air. He grabbed Zhou Tong by the collar, and with a light leap, the two of them stood on the sword.

"Give directions."

Zhou Tong composed himself and lowered his voice to give directions.

The sword light flew out close to the eaves, through the streets and alleys, heading straight for the government prison.

Before long, a dark courtyard appeared ahead, which was the government prison.

Shen Jingchuan rode his sword straight over the high wall and landed silently in the prison courtyard.

He sheathed his sword. The cell door was locked, and inside, two jailers were leaning against the wall, fast asleep.

Shen Jingchuan drew his sword, aimed it at the iron chain on the door bolt, and slashed down with it.

With a "crack," the iron chain snapped.

He raised his foot and kicked open the cell door.

The two jailers were suddenly awakened and were about to shout when Shen Jingchuan had already slipped inside.

He grabbed one with each hand, and with a quick tap on the back of the left one's neck, the other let out a muffled groan and collapsed limply.

The guy on the right had just stood up when he was grabbed by the collar and lifted up, the blade of a sword held against his neck.

Do you want to die, or do you want to live?

The jailer was so frightened that he trembled all over, his throat was choked, and he could only nod in a muffled voice.

"I want to live! I want to live! Spare my life, sir!"

Shen Jingchuan put him down, but the tip of the sword remained at his throat.

"The key. Where are the Zhou Household members being held?"

The jailer hurriedly reached for the keys at his waist, but his hand trembled, and the keychain rattled.

He caught a glimpse of the two men with their faces covered out of the corner of his eye, which actually made him feel a little more at ease.

He was a seasoned veteran in this prison, having seen it all. Those who attempt prison breaks usually wear masks to avoid being recognized and to ensure their survival; if they openly display their faces, that's when they're being silenced.

He nodded repeatedly, bending even lower.

"Good sir, I know the Zhou Household family. I'll show you the way."

Shen Jingchuan remained noncommittal and led him deeper into the prison.

The jailer, carrying a dim oil lamp, opened two cell doors and stopped at the first cell inside.

"Good sir, this is the place."

Zhou Tong leaned closer and peered inside by the light; tears welled up in his eyes.

The cold, damp prison cell was covered with a few rotten straws, and the whole family huddled inside.

His father leaned against the wall, his mother curled up beside him, and his wife and concubine held their two children, all of them pale and thin, listless and without spirit.

Hearing the noise, Father Zhou woke up first, opened his eyes, and stared in astonishment at the two masked men at the door.

Before the jailer leading the way could speak, Shen Jingchuan raised his hand and delivered a chop to the back of his neck.

The jailer didn't even utter a sound before collapsing limply.

Zhou Tong immediately rushed to the cell door, ripped off the mask from his face, and opened the cell door.