Song Zhi watched as Zhang Xiaobai paced around the prison cell for most of the day, but never sat down on the ground. He only walked around the corners and edges of the cell, occasionally extending his foot to probe the pile of messy straw, but before his toes could even touch it, he would quickly pull back.

He went back and forth like this many times. Moreover, his mouth never stopped complaining. “Even ghosts wouldn’t want to stay in this place. It’s so filthy there’s nowhere to even set foot, and it stinks to death. Even the rats are gone—it’s disgusting enough to make me vomit. There’s not even a bit of light, and dampness seeps through everywhere. If I stay here for even one night, what will happen when I’m old? No, I can’t keep staying here. I don’t want to die. I was wrongly accused—I can’t die!”

He rambled on and on for a very long time…

Song Zhi was like an audience member at a zoo watching monkeys perform.

He quietly observed him.

Wondering how long his energy could remain so abundant?

Zhang Xiaobai truly couldn’t bear it anymore and forcefully tugged at the iron chains on the prison door.

Clanging and rattling loudly!

The sound echoed through the dim prison cell with a terrifying resonance.

It sent chills down one’s spine!

“Let me out! I didn’t kill anyone. You can’t lock me up. Let me out! This isn’t a place for humans to stay. Even if you won’t let me go, at least move me to another place! Someone, anyone—did you hear me or not? Come quickly! I don’t want to die yet.”

He wailed continuously.

How miserable it was!

Soon it attracted the jailers.

Two jailers walked over fiercely, raising their hands to strike the wooden posts forcefully with the large blades in their hands.

“Shouting, shouting, shouting—what are you shouting about? If you dare to yell randomly here again, I’ll seal your mouth shut.”

Zhang Xiaobai said, “Officers, I really didn’t kill anyone. Go tell Lord Zhuo to let me out.”

“Are you dreaming? Right now you’re the prime suspect. Maybe you’re the one who killed Wang Jun. How could Lord Zhuo possibly let you out?”

“I really didn’t kill anyone!”

“Whether you killed someone or not will naturally become clear once the investigation is complete.” The jailer was getting impatient.

Zhang Xiaobai simply extended his hand and directly grabbed the jailer’s clothing, saying, “Then change my location. I don’t want to sleep here. Or perhaps, bring me a clean blanket, fetch some oil lamps, and preferably prepare some food for me.”

“What?” The jailer laughed. “Do you think you’re the emperor? Making so many demands while in prison!”

Zhang Xiaobai felt wronged. “But… if there’s no clean blanket, I’ll die sleeping here for one night. Throwing me in here—isn’t that the same as sending me to my death?”

“Why are you so talkative? You’re a serious criminal now! Not shackling you in iron chains is already treating you well. If you dare to shout again, watch how I deal with you.” The jailer made a show of drawing the large blade in his hand.

The next moment, Zhang Xiaobai shrank back.

He was very cowardly! But as someone who had always been fair and delicate, if he continued to stay here, he would definitely become neither human nor ghost. Even if he were released as innocent, he probably couldn’t perform as a male lead anymore. Thinking of this, he steeled his heart and with a desperate determination, said to the jailer, “Then… at least change my cell.”

With a pleading tone.

“You…” The jailer was helpless.

Song Zhi really couldn’t bear to watch anymore. He stood up and walked to the wooden post of the cell, saying to the jailer, “Officer, how about this—I’ll switch with Young Master Zhang. My cell has a window.”

Upon hearing this, Zhang Xiaobai said, “I won’t switch with him—bad luck!”

The jailer furrowed his brows and scolded him, “Switch or don’t switch—it’s up to you. Anyway, there are no other cells available for you right now.”

Clearly the surrounding cells were all empty!

Zhang Xiaobai thought carefully for a moment, sizing up Song Zhi’s cell across from him.

Then gritting his teeth, “Fine.”

So the jailer switched their cells.

Although Zhang Xiaobai had moved into Song Zhi’s cell, he still looked disdainful. At least it wasn’t as smelly as the one across—probably Song Zhi had already absorbed all the stench. Moreover, light streamed in through that window, bringing a slightly warm feeling that barely dispersed the dampness on the ground.

The jailer asked Zhang Xiaobai, “How is it, Young Master Zhang? Is it acceptable now?”

“Not bad!”

Actually he wasn’t very satisfied, but it was better than the previous one!

The jailer snorted and pointed at Song Zhi, saying, “Look at Young Master Song—he’s been squatting in the cell for several days without a single complaint. You’ve only been here for less than the time it takes to burn one incense stick, yet you’re crying out to heaven and earth, acting like you’re dying.”

The other jailer laughed, “Forget it, forget it. Let him shout. Lord Zhuo will issue orders soon anyway. He probably won’t have another chance to shout.”

“Haha, true.”

The implication was that Lord Zhuo would very likely convict him and have him beheaded.

After the two jailers left.

Zhang Xiaobai’s face turned pale.

Song Zhi had switched to a different place but maintained an extremely good attitude. He found a spot and sat down, saying to Zhang Xiaobai across from him, “Young Master Zhang, you should rest for a while first.”

Zhang Xiaobai glared at him and could only find a relatively clean place to sit down.

After a while, he asked Song Zhi a question. “Aren’t you afraid of death?”

“Of course I’m afraid, but everyone must die eventually!”

“Your attitude is really good.”

“It’s not really about attitude, but rather about justice. If Lord Zhuo truly sentences me to death, it can only mean His Lordship perverted the law and justice does not exist.”

Zhang Xiaobai said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Song Zhi smiled without speaking.

Zhang Xiaobai let out a muffled sound and suddenly noticed a line of text at his feet.

A line of very upright and elegant handwriting.

He read it aloud: “Sorrow sings and travels onward.”

He didn’t quite understand, so he asked Song Zhi, “Did you write this?”

Song Zhi said, “Mm, I wrote it casually and forgot to erase it.”

“What does it mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

Hm?

Zhang Xiaobai didn’t understand his meaning but found the man extremely uninteresting.

So they both fell quiet.

In the prison cell, only a cold wind rolled about freely.

Zhang Xiaobai seemed to dislike this kind of quiet environment, so he suddenly started a topic. Looking at that shadowy figure in the cell across from him, he said, “Song Zhi, you actually have quite a lot of talent—it’s just your temperament… is too detestable.”

It was unclear whether this was praise or criticism.

Song Zhi’s expression was gentle. “Everyone says so.”

“By the way, why did you suddenly stop writing poetry and come to be a storyteller?”

This…

Actually, many people had asked Song Zhi this question before. Each time he either remained silent or brushed it off with vague words.

It was the same now. He replied with four words: “Hard to put into words.”

“How is it hard to put into words?” Zhang Xiaobai asked. “In the past, you were a great poet in Yiwu. Everyone wanted to befriend you. If you had continued writing, perhaps by now your sacred name would have spread throughout all of Hu Yi. If fortunate, you might have already become an official.”

When Song Zhi heard the two words “become an official,” his expression paused for a moment. “There are too many accidents in life. Nothing can be explained clearly.”