Special "Labor"
Early the next morning, not long after the shrill wake-up whistle had sounded, the iron door of Cell 107 swung open with a clang.
Officer Wang stood in the doorway, expressionless, a labor assignment sheet in his hand. His gaze swept over the men who had just crawled out of bed before settling on Lin Feng.
"Lin Feng, come out."
The cell fell silent in an instant. Everyone instinctively looked at Lin Feng, their eyes filled with curiosity and a trace of barely perceptible envy. Being called out alone for "labor" was not necessarily a bad thing.
Scar scrambled to his feet, plastering a smile across his face as he tried to sidle over and ask a few questions, but a glare from Officer Wang sent him back.
Lin Feng remained calm. He put on his shoes and followed Officer Wang out of the cell. Other inmates called out for labor were in the corridor, forming sparse lines under the officers' supervision. But Lin Feng soon noticed that Officer Wang was taking him away from the main group, toward a more secluded corridor.
Neither spoke as they passed through several iron doors that were rarely opened. The clamor around them gradually faded away, leaving only the echoes of their footsteps. At last, they stopped in front of an inconspicuous gray iron door at the end of the corridor. The sign on it was faintly printed with the words "Storage room (old)."
Officer Wang fished a slightly worn brass key from a large bunch, inserted it into the lock, and turned it.
"This is the place." Officer Wang pushed the door open and stepped aside. "There's some old clutter piled up inside that needs cleaning and sorting. That's your task for today. Knock when you're done," he said evenly.
Lin Feng nodded and stepped inside.
The iron door clanged shut behind him, followed by the faint click of a lock being turned from the outside.
But the sight inside was utterly unlike any "storeroom" Lin Feng had imagined.
The room was small, roughly ten square meters, but it was exceptionally clean and tidy. There was even a faint scent of air freshener. The walls had clearly been freshly painted, a pristine white. A bright LED light overhead illuminated the entire little room.
There were no mountains of clutter at all.
A simple but very clean-looking single bed stood against the wall, made up with a brand-new blue-striped sheet and a light quilt. Beside it was an old desk, but its surface was spotless. Sitting right on top was a black laptop, with a brand-new smartphone beside it, complete with a charger and data cable.
Across from the desk was even a small plastic washbasin stand, holding a new towel, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a bar of Lux soap.
How was this a storeroom? It was unmistakably a fully equipped single cell! A deluxe version, at that!
Lin Feng walked over to the desk, brushed his fingers over the cool casing of the laptop, and picked up the phone. It had no password. He swiped open the screen and saw that the signal was at full strength. He casually opened the browser, and the internet connection worked smoothly.
He silently surveyed it all. There was no surprise or excitement on his face, only a cold understanding. The product of power and fear intertwined was indeed astonishingly efficient.
He did not immediately touch the electronic devices. Instead, he went to sit on the bed first. The mattress was more than a class above the shared sleeping platform in Cell 107 in softness. He sat quietly for a while, as if adjusting to this sudden "isolated island," separated from the outside world by only a door.
After an unknown length of time, the sound of a key turning in the lock came from the door.
The iron door opened a crack, and Wang Lei poked his head in, his face showing respect and a trace of nervousness. "Brother Feng, is everything... all right? Supervisor Zhao personally ordered the arrangements. Time was tight, so it's a little bare-bones..."
Lin Feng looked up at him and nodded. "Very good. Thanks for your effort."
At his approval, Wang Lei seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and forced a smile. "As long as you're satisfied. Um... the phone and computer are both new, and the card isn't registered. It's absolutely secure. You can use them without worry." He paused, then added, "It's mealtime. I'll bring your food over."
With that, he withdrew, and the door was gently pulled shut and locked again.
A few minutes later, the door opened once more.
This time, Wang Lei came in carrying a large tray. What was on it brought the absurdity of this "special cell" to its peak.
It was not one of the identical aluminum food bowls from the detention center cafeteria.
On the tray was an elegant white eco-friendly meal box, its lid open to reveal steaming white rice. Separate compartments beside it held appetizing-looking braised pork ribs, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, and a serving of soup. There was also a small fruit platter, with apple and orange slices cut neatly. There was even a pair of disposable chopsticks, rather than those wooden sticks that had to be broken apart.
The aroma of the food instantly filled the little room, a world apart from the detention center meals that always carried a sour smell.
"This was ordered from the Gathered Fragrance Pavilion outside. Please try it and see if it suits your taste." Wang Lei carefully set the tray on the desk, his tone bordering on obsequious.
Lin Feng looked at the meal, appealing in color, aroma, and taste, then at the computer and phone that could connect him to the outside world. Finally, his gaze settled on the soft single bed.
Here, he had freedom and comfort the other inmates could not imagine. Information, nutrition, rest... these most basic survival needs had been more than met in an almost ironic fashion. And all of it came from his grasp of Zhao Jianguo's deadliest secret, from power twisting and compromising under fear.
He said nothing, picked up the chopsticks, and began to eat quietly. The braised ribs were tender and infused with flavor, the greens crisp and refreshing, the rice fragrant, sweet, and soft. He ate slowly, chewing each bite thoroughly, as though he were enjoying the most ordinary home-cooked meal.
Wang Lei stood respectfully to one side, not daring to breathe loudly. Only after Lin Feng had finished did he step forward and deftly clear away the meal box.
"Brother Feng, if you need anything else, please let... let me know anytime," Wang Lei said quietly.
"Nothing for now." Lin Feng wiped his mouth. "If there's any news outside, tell me as soon as it comes."
"Yes, yes." Wang Lei nodded repeatedly, took the empty meal box, and bowed as he withdrew.
The iron door was locked again.
Silence returned to the little room, broken only by the faint electrical hum of the LED light.
Lin Feng walked over to the desk and opened the laptop. The screen lit up, its blue glow reflected in his calm, untroubled eyes.
He connected to the internet but did not log into any personal social media accounts. First, he quickly browsed several local news sites and forums, checking for any word about the cases involving Sun Tingting, Li Jing, or Zhang Qian.
Then he opened an extremely discreet browser, entered a long, complicated address, and logged into an encrypted messaging interface.
There was only one contact on the interface-Zhou Wenyuan.
[Everything going smoothly?] he typed.
A reply came almost instantly: [Smoothly. Have you obtained a private room?]
[Yes,] Lin Feng replied. [How are the materials coming along?]
[The chain of evidence has been preliminarily assembled, but the key recording still needs technical processing to enhance its credibility. As for Zhang Qian, the pressure continues, but she is still putting up a desperate last-ditch resistance, insisting on requesting a supplementary investigation.]
Lin Feng pondered for a moment, then typed rapidly: [Speed things up. Zhao has entered the game. Make appropriate use of his channels to exert influence at a higher level and bypass Zhang Qian. Objective: push the case into the next stage as soon as possible.]
[Understood. I'll try to use his network of internal connections,] Zhou Wenyuan replied. [How are things on your end?]
Lin Feng glanced around the fully equipped cell and replied: [This will be the new command center.]
He closed the messaging interface, erased all traces of his browsing, and picked up the phone. Rather than making a call, he used it to access the Deathsworn Network again, sending orders to the various outside nodes responsible for intelligence gathering and telling them to step up their surveillance and information gathering on the remaining targets.
Once he had done all that, he put down the phone and went to lie on the bed.
The soft mattress supported his body, a world apart from the rock-hard shared sleeping platform in Cell 107. He closed his eyes. There was no longer any snoring, sleep talking, or grinding of teeth in his ears, only deathly silence.
But within that silence, undercurrents surged more fiercely than ever.
This special "labor" site would become the fulcrum with which he leveraged the entire situation. Privilege within the high walls would become the sharpest spear thrust at his enemies.