He tested his movements little by little. His fingers could move, but heavy iron locked his wrists fast. His feet felt weighed down too, though much less so. He could shift his shins and feet, lift them, even walk within a certain radius, until the chains pulled taut-they were attached to the wall.
Being able to move meant he could do many things.
Straighten an iron link, grow a bone spur... before news from outside reached him, he could make many preparations.
He did not know how long the silent darkness lasted. Only scattered, indistinct rustlings disturbed the prison, coming from different directions.
Then a heavy, distinct set of footsteps suddenly approached, and Yong Ji opened his eyes.
From above to below, from far to near.
Three candle flames pushed into the gloom. The tall figures of several bailiffs, wearing sabers, and several officials in differing attire stopped outside the door.
But they had not come for him. All had their backs to him as a barefoot figure in gray, tightly restrained, was pushed into the cell diagonally opposite. As he walked inside, everyone kept a firm hand on their saber.
But the man merely sat down without a word, his disheveled, hanging hair obscuring his face.
Two bailiffs went inside and fastened twelve almost-taut chains onto him.
The five or six officials outside the cell door were loosely divided into two sides. One was led by a man in vermilion robes, wearing a sword and a properly set cap; the other consisted of a single man dressed as a clerk, holding a case file.
Watching the prisoner enter the cell, he withdrew his gaze and said formally, "Vice Minister Li, eminent people are apt to forget. Beginning on the thirteenth of October in the Xinsi Year, your office sent