Yi Yang left the Heaven Patrol Office headquarters and walked down the long street leading to South City Prison.
Morning light spread over the bluestone paving, and traces of last night's smoke still lingered in the air. Most of the shops along the street had reopened. Whatever happened, life still had to go on.
The number of pedestrians gradually increased, but when they saw his acting commander's official uniform, they hurriedly cleared a path.
He was not walking quickly, yet the gates of South City Prison were already visible in the distance.
The two guards at the entrance spotted Yi Yang from afar. Their backs instantly snapped straight, and one jogged over to push the heavy iron gates open with both hands. The hinges gave a low creak.
"Lord Yi!"
The guard's voice carried undisguised eagerness, a world apart from the spiteful attitude he had shown when Yi Yang first arrived a few days ago.
Their attitudes had changed before, too, but that had been because Yi Yang intimidated them, not out of genuine sincerity like this.
When the two Patrol Guards greeted him, Yi Yang nodded and stepped over the threshold.
More than a dozen surviving jailers stood along both sides of the passage. Some wore bandages, while others still had blood-staunching ointment plastered on their faces, but every one of them stood ramrod straight.
When their gazes met his, none dared hold his eyes for long.
Reverence, gratitude, relief-all those emotions mingled together, lending this usually dark, damp passage a touch of solemnity for the first time.
They all understood that if Yi Yang had not stopped last night's prison riot, they might all have died here.
Under their watching eyes, Yi Yang stopped halfway down the passage.
Ahead, a young jailer was supporting another man as they