Heavenly Prison Refuge

The common people were blind and foolish.

They would cheer with delight when rebels were beheaded, wanting only to see how many feet the blood could spurt, wondering whether it could be dipped up with a steamed bun.

Yet the common people were also wise.

Thousands upon thousands turned in unison toward the imperial palace, silent—their vast, wordless will forever pushing history onward.

Only then did Zhou Yi understand what it meant to be condemned by a thousand men and die without illness.

He wiped his mouth and raised his head to call out.

"Landlady, the bill."

"Brother Yi, today's meal is on the house."

The landlady snapped out of her daze at the sound of the bells and pinched her own face hard to keep herself from laughing aloud.

"Fine."

Zhou Yi did not put on airs and toss out silver. Martial body tempering was a bottomless pit.

The martial school's tuition was not expensive at ten taels of silver. Only after teaching the cultivation method did they tell you that body tempering required nourishing medicinal soups; otherwise, you would train yourself into a cripple—or to death.

The medicinal formula was a martial school secret, known only to the master, who sold you the brewed medicine.

"This racket looks exactly like a free-to-play online game. Without constantly pouring money in, don't even dream of getting stronger!"

Zhou Yi clicked his tongue in amazement. Whether in the past or the future, merchants' tricks had never changed.

From toughening his skin and flesh to tempering his sinews and bones, he had already paid five or six hundred taels of silver. What followed was the even more difficult organ refinement and marrow cleansing, with increasingly precious nourishing medicine. He estimated that even several thousand taels would not be enough.

Once ordinary martial artists reached the second-rate realm, they began roaming the martial world.

Amid flashing blades and sword shadows, where was all that sky-piercing heroism? Most did it to earn silver.

Zhou Yi did not need to take such risks. Heavenly Prison was full of corrupt officials and filthy bureaucrats; scraping off just a thin layer of their grease was enough to fund his martial body tempering.

He walked along the streets.

The common people seemed to have been struck by a silence spell. Their eyes kept darting toward the imperial palace. They clearly wanted to speak, yet did not dare discuss it.

They conveyed their meaning with their eyes, likely cursing that the dog emperor had finally died.

Heavenly Prison.

Lei Siyue had already changed into mourning clothes and was directing the prison guards as they erected white funeral banners.

The emperor had passed away; the entire realm was to observe mourning.

Once the sixteen-foot white banners had been set up, Lei Siyue summoned all the prison guards.

"Orders have come from the palace. From this moment onward, Heavenly Prison is sealed inside and out. No one is allowed to enter or leave—not even this official. We will eat and sleep in the prison!"

Lei Siyue looked at Zhou Yi. "Little Yi, go check the rice and flour in the kitchen. If there isn't enough, hurry out and buy more."

During the emperor's mourning period, banquets were forbidden, so they could only eat rice and white flour.

Though Lei Siyue was old, his memory had only grown sharper. He clearly intended to remain in this post until death; rumor had it that he would not trade it even for a seventh-rank Ministry of Justice assistant director.

Zhou Yi accepted the order. "Understood!"

Zhang Zhou reminded him, "Remember to stock up on several jars of cooking wine. If too little goes into the stir-fry, it won't taste good."

"Hahaha!"

The prison guards burst into laughter. Other people added cooking wine to their dishes; Zhang Zhou drank cooking wine with every meal.

"I understand."

Zhou Yi had served at Heavenly Prison for ten years and was already familiar with everyone. They often went together to the Pleasure Quarter to listen to music, and there had long been no restraint in how they spoke or acted around one another.

There were few official posts in Heavenly Prison and many lowborn prison guards, all iron rice bowls passed down through several generations.

No one needed to look down on anyone else, and with so much grease to be had, it was difficult for colleagues not to get along.

Kitchen.

Chef Liu was already in the kitchen, directing his son and apprentice as they prepared food in huge cauldrons.

Zhou Yi asked in surprise, "Why are you here? Stop working and leave quickly. If you don't go now, Heavenly Prison will be locked down."

"I'm not leaving, I'm not leaving. I'll stay in Heavenly Prison for a while."

Chef Liu wiped the sweat from his face and said quietly, "Our proprietor said Shenjing was about to fall into chaos, so he closed Dǐngxiāng Restaurant. The manager and staff wanted to leave through the city gates, but they were all stopped."

"I figured, where could be safer than Heavenly Prison? So I brought Shunzi here to take refuge!"

"Brilliant!"

Zhou Yi gave him a thumbs-up. After checking the rice bins, flour bins, and wine jars, he found there was enough for everyone in Heavenly Prison to eat for a month. He chatted with Chef Liu for a while, then carried a bucket away to deliver meals.

No assignment could tempt him to trade away meal delivery duty.

Assigned officers often escorted prisoners into exile, traveling tens of thousands of li there and back. With war and chaos raging outside, how could anywhere be safer than hunkering down in Heavenly Prison?

Of course, escorting prisoners was a fine assignment, and the prison guards fought to take it.

Along the journey, they enjoyed carriages, inns, fine wine, and good food—at least several hundred taels of silver in hand by the time they returned!

Prison Block B-3.

Zhou Yi ladled out thin porridge and was preparing to leave.

An elderly prisoner clung to the bars, disheveled and skeletal, and begged to ask.

"Young man, this old one seemed to hear bells. How many times did they ring?"

"Nine times."

Zhou Yi answered without expression. This prisoner had been a supervising secretary in the Ministry of Works, convicted of embezzling funds meant to repair river dikes.

The outside of the dikes had been plastered with stone and sand, while the inside had been stuffed with straw and rice stalks.

During a heavy rain last summer, before the water even neared the warning line, the dikes collapsed first. In the end, more than a hundred thousand people died or went missing.

"Your Majesty!"

The prisoner froze, then began wailing and sobbing, banging his head against the ground toward the imperial palace again and again.

Zhou Yi shrugged and continued delivering food. The prisoners in the B Block were all masters of acting; it was hard to tell whether their tears were tears of devastating grief or ecstatic joy.

By custom, when a new emperor of the Fengyang Kingdom ascended the throne, a general amnesty would be declared to display imperial benevolence.

The prisoners in the A Block were much more straightforward. Every one of them laughed and joked, barely holding back from shouting that the emperor had died well.

"Young man, when will the new emperor ascend the throne?"

"We're about to get out. Can't we have one good meal?"

"Hahaha! Old Zhao here has three months until the execution ground. Long live Our Emperor!"

Zhou Yi paid no attention to the prisoners' cries. After delivering meals for ten years, he had long formed the habit of neither listening nor looking.

His spoon drew a light circle through the bucket. How many grains of rice and how many leaves of vegetables went into it were entirely under Zhou Yi's control.

Practice made perfect!

For certain prisoners he disliked, each meal contained only three to five grains of rice. After being locked up for a while, they would starve into dried corpses.

Night fell.

Heavenly Prison was brightly lit, and the sounds of drinking-game calls rang out without cease.

Several thousand Imperial Guards stood watch outside the outer gate, while the inner gate was tightly shut and locked, like a tiny world cut off from the rest of existence.

Alcohol was forbidden during the state mourning, but that meant nothing to the prison guards.

Niu Xiaowei initially urged everyone not to be too outrageous, but after losing three straight rounds of cards, he tossed the laws of the realm behind his head.

"No nines! No nines..."

Assigned officer Chang Ning held his breath and slowly flipped over his domino tile. He immediately burst into laughter, swept all the money on the table toward himself, and gulped down a bowl of wine.

The prison guards at the table cursed and grumbled, while the onlookers praised Chang Ning's gambling skill and excellent luck.

"Uncle Chang, what good fortune!"

Zhou Yi praised him, then said casually, "We have so many prisoners locked up here, and there are quite a few vicious men in the A Block. During a change of dynasty, we ought to watch our safety."

Chang Ning had his whole mind on the game and replied without concern, "Three thousand Imperial Guards have Heavenly Prison surrounded so tightly that not even a top expert could break in."

Hearing this, the card-losing Niu Xiaowei frowned slightly. "Little Yi is right. We absolutely cannot be careless about this. If trouble truly breaks out, it will be a major case that costs heads!"

Zhou Yi took the opportunity to say, "Don't we have a watchtower? I can go up there and keep watch. If anyone comes, I can give notice."

"Go on, go on. The tower key is in the cabinet; take it yourself."

Niu Xiaowei suspected nothing. As he felt for another tile, he added with concern.

"It's freezing cold, and the wind on the watchtower is strong. Remember to bring several extra quilts!"