The Neighbor's Request

Xu Qian, back from his leave, felt his mindset had steadied considerably. The vastness and clamor of the outside world were more like a mirror, reflecting the peculiarity and... "safety" of this cramped patch of the Heavenly Prison? At least here, he knew where the clear dangers lay and how to avoid them.

He threw himself back into the routine, cautious life of a jailer—delivering meals, cleaning, standing guard, and occasionally, in the dead of night, using the "Rat Extermination Swordplay" to clear out any blind rodents. His days were full and... low-key.

As for the "big shot" in E-98, Xu Qian strictly adhered to a "three-no policy": no looking, no listening, no asking. Every meal delivery was like carrying out a top-secret mission—movements swift as lightning, gaze fixed on the void, absolutely no form of communication with the cell. He could even feel that, whenever he approached, the faint, scrutinizing gaze from inside would briefly linger on him.

The two maintained a strange, unspoken understanding.

However, this understanding was shattered this morning.

As usual, Xu Qian carried his wooden bucket, eyes straight ahead, and walked up to cell E-98. He scooped up a ladle of paste, ready to pour it through the feeding slot.

Just as he bent down, an extremely low yet unusually clear voice, like a mosquito's buzz, drilled into his ear:

"Jailer."

Xu Qian's movements froze abruptly, the ladle pausing mid-air. He fought the urge to look up or respond, pretending not to hear, and continued pouring the paste into the bowl, intending to leave immediately.

"Help This King... help me deliver a letter out."

The voice sounded again, carrying a deliberately suppressed urgency and a barely concealed, commanding tone of one long accustomed to being above others. Though it corrected itself, that brief "This King" self-address exploded like a thunderclap in Xu Qian's heart!

[This King?! Holy crap! He really is a prince!] Xu Qian's heart pounded wildly, and a fine layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on his back. He had guessed this man was no ordinary person, but he never expected such a big shot! A prince or imperial son—that was someone truly at the center of the power vortex!

"There will be a heavy reward," the voice added, its tone softening, laced with temptation. "A thousand taels of gold, or... anything else you want, as long as I can do it."

A thousand taels of gold!

Xu Qian felt his breath catch for a moment. That was a fortune that could instantly grant him financial freedom, let him flee far away, and live a life of leisure and pleasure forever! To say he wasn't tempted would be a lie.

But his hand gripping the wooden ladle tightened even more, knuckles turning white.

Behind the immense temptation lay overwhelming risk!

Help a fallen prince deliver a letter? To whom? What was the content? Once that letter was sent out, what chain reaction would it trigger? A lowly jailer like him, getting involved in a struggle of this level, was simply a mantis trying to stop a chariot—he could be crushed to dust at any moment!

Zhou Kang's warning still echoed in his ears: "Get involved, and you'll die without even knowing how!"

This wasn't just delivering a letter; it was picking a side, gambling with his life! Win, and maybe he'd rise to the top overnight; lose, and it would definitely be a game of "exterminate the nine clans"!

And Xu Qian hated gambling more than anything! Especially gambling with his own life!

In a flash, countless thoughts churned in his mind.

Agree or not?

The benefits of agreeing were obvious—massive wealth, perhaps even future protection. But the risk was too high, far beyond what he could bear.

What about the consequences of refusing? Offend this fallen prince? He was imprisoned now and seemed unable to do anything to him? But who could guarantee he had no backup plan? Or that he wouldn't make a comeback someday and settle the score later...

Xu Qian felt like his brain was about to burn out.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He didn't respond immediately, nor did he refuse outright. He acted as if he had heard nothing, straightened up, picked up his wooden bucket, and walked steadily toward the next cell.

But he could feel that gaze behind him, like a physical weight on his back—cold, sharp, filled with scrutiny and a faint, barely perceptible... expectation?

The rest of the meal delivery felt unbearably long to Xu Qian. He mechanically repeated his actions, but his mind was entirely on that sudden request.

Only after he had finished delivering to all the cells and walked out of Block E with his empty bucket did he feel that piercing gaze disappear, allowing him to breathe a slight sigh of relief.

But he knew this wasn't over.

Since the other party had spoken up, they wouldn't give up easily. The next meal delivery, and the one after that, would probably bring more probing, maybe even a higher price, or... threats.

[Trouble, what a huge trouble!] Xu Qian cursed inwardly. He just wanted to lie low and cultivate in peace, so why did trouble always come knocking uninvited?

Back in the corner where the jailers rested, he leaned against the cold wall, slowly calming his racing heart.

A thousand taels of gold was tempting.

A prince's favor was also tempting.

But compared to his own life and the Great Dao of Longevity, these were all insignificant.

What was the core of "steady development, leaving a billion backup plans"? It was to survive! To avoid all unnecessary risks!