Colleague Zhang Meng

Over the next few days, Xu Qian found a new secret pleasure in life—using the gaps between his daily duties to quietly observe the Mad Old Man in Ding Seventeen with the Qi Gazing Technique, then relying on the Longevity Dao Fruit in the dormitory late at night to deduce those strokes of ghostly scribbles.

Progress remained slow. Most of the time, the old man curled up in a corner and muttered to himself. Occasionally, he would wave his arms and dance about, but his movements were chaotic and without form, with no trace of sword techniques to be seen. That fierce Azure Qi within him remained deeply hidden, as if asleep. The Dao Fruit's deductions were likewise limited to fine-tuning those few basic movements; he was still far from truly comprehending any sword techniques.

Xu Qian did not lose heart. He had plenty of time. He treated it as a long-term project and patiently lay low.

That morning, after delivering the meals, Xu Qian was assigned to clear away the standing water and garbage in a backup passageway in Zone D. The job was filthy and exhausting, usually dumped on newcomers or those being ostracized.

Xu Qian had no complaints. Compared to facing those dangerous prisoners, this kind of simple manual labor actually felt safer. Carrying a broom taller than himself and an iron shovel, he entered the dark, damp backup passageway that reeked of mold.

He had only been cleaning for a short while when heavy footsteps sounded behind him, followed by a booming voice:

"Hey! New guy? You're doing this job all by yourself?"

Xu Qian turned around warily and saw a young prison guard standing at the entrance to the passageway. He was tall and a full size broader than Xu Qian, grinning wide enough to show a row of white teeth. His skin was dark, his brows thick, his eyes large, and his face wore a straightforward smile that seemed untouched by the world.

Through Xu Qian's Qi Gazing Technique, the young man was shrouded in a faint crimson current, like a newborn calf. It brimmed with vigor and blood vitality. Though not particularly deep, it was quite robust, and its aura was pure, without any hint of sinister scheming.

"Mm, Captain Zhou assigned it." Xu Qian stopped what he was doing, habitually putting on that somewhat timid, honest smile. He remembered this young man. His name seemed to be Zhang Meng. He had arrived a few months before Xu Qian, and supposedly came from a farming family on the outskirts of the capital, with a little rudimentary skill from farm work.

"Captain Zhou really went too far. The water in this damned place is so deep, and there's so much garbage—how long would it take one person to finish?" Zhang Meng grumbled, yet he strode over, rolled up his sleeves without the slightest disgust, and picked up another spare iron shovel from the corner. "Come on, come on, I'll help you! The sooner we finish, the sooner we can rest!"

As he spoke, he did not wait for Xu Qian's response. He immediately began shoveling up the mud and rotting debris from the ground, working briskly with great strength.

Xu Qian froze for a moment. In an environment like the Heavenly Prison, where everyone looked out for themselves and most people treated one another with cold indifference, Zhang Meng's undisguised enthusiasm and willingness to help seemed especially abrupt and... precious.

He hurriedly said, "Th-this... how could I possibly trouble you, Brother Zhang?"

"Ah, what're you being polite for?" Zhang Meng did not even raise his head. As he shoveled hard, he said in a muffled voice, "When I first got here, I didn't understand anything either. If it weren't for a few older brothers looking after me, I'd have been lost. You look all soft-skinned and tender, not like us who are used to rough work. This has to be hard on you! We should help each other out!"

Warmth stirred in Xu Qian's heart. He no longer stood on ceremony, thanked him, and began working alongside Zhang Meng.

With Zhang Meng, this powerhouse, helping out, the cleanup became much more efficient. The two worked while chatting on and off.

Zhang Meng was a chatterbox with no guile to speak of. Before long, he had spilled his entire background. As expected, he came from a farming household outside the capital. His family was poor, and he had used connections to get in so he could earn some silver, planning to return home and marry a wife once he had saved enough money, and so on.

"Xu Qian, you're not that old. Why'd you come to this damned place too?" Zhang Meng asked curiously.

Xu Qian had long prepared his story. Pulling a miserable face, he said, "My family fell on hard times. I came in place of my father, just trying to earn a living."

"Oh..." Zhang Meng nodded as if he half understood. He patted Xu Qian on the shoulder with an expression that said, I get you. "It's fine! Since we're here, we make the best of it! We might not have any great abilities, but as long as we're clever, we can get by in this Heavenly Prison!"

He looked around, lowered his voice, and with the proud air of someone passing on valuable experience, said to Xu Qian, "Let me tell you, serving here isn't something you can get through just by relying on that fixed pittance of a wage! You've got to learn how to find your own 'extra income'!"

"Extra income?" Xu Qian put on a suitably curious expression.

"Exactly!" Zhang Meng's eyes lit up, and he perked up. "Look at those prisoners. They may be down and out now, but some of them have deep pockets! Or they've got family outside who still care about them! Especially the timid ones in Zone D, the ones without any backing. Give them a little scare, or do them a small favor—like giving them an extra ladle of thick vegetable gruel or getting them some clean water—and they'll have to show their appreciation!"

He rubbed his fingers together and chuckled. "It may not be much, but drops of water can wear through stone! It's enough for us to buy some wine, get some meat, and improve our meals! This is called the 'way of the prison guard'!"

Xu Qian understood inwardly. This was the survival wisdom of low-ranking prison guards—or rather, a certain unwritten rule. He showed just the right amount of surprise and hesitation. "Th-this... Captain Zhou doesn't care? Won't it cause trouble?"