The Double-Chapter 322 - 119 Father_5

What could possibly make Miss Biao suddenly kneel down? Or did Miss Biao’s knees feel uncomfortable, causing her to fall?

But soon, Ah Shun dismissed this speculation. He watched with his own eyes as Jiang Li reached out, supported the filthy prisoner, and turned him around slowly to reveal his full face.

Both Butcher Zhang and Ah Shun’s eyes widened.

That was a gaunt face that could barely be called "human"; the entire face was so thin that the cheeks were hollowed out, and the cheekbones jutted out prominently. The body Jiang Li was supporting was as thin as kindling. Ah Shun had seen prisoners before, most of them fierce and malevolent, with sharp chins and monkey cheeks—some looked desperate and downcast, but none were as shockingly pitiful as the one before him.

His hair had turned completely white, a snowy expanse; at first glance, one might think it was Tongxiang’s snow resting on a person’s head. Yet, the whiter the hair, the darker and skinnier the figure became. It was like the dying flame of a candle, barely a breath away from being snuffed out.

Butcher Zhang murmured, "Lord Xue..."

Ah Shun instinctively looked towards Butcher Zhang. Was this extraordinarily thin, seemingly near death old man really that County Magistrate Xue who was popular with the people, reputed to have a noble character and unsullied integrity?

Could County Magistrate Xue really be so destitute? Anyone who saw this prisoner would not doubt that in not too long, he would breathe his last.

Seeing such a person, Miss Biao must be scared, right? Ah Shun thought this, and then he watched as Jiang Li slowly rolled up Xue Huaiyuan’s sleeve.

With her back towards him, Ah Shun couldn’t see Jiang Li’s expression. He just felt that Miss Biao, supporting the other, seemed extremely pained, like a hurt beast suppressing its wound, whining and licking its continuously bleeding wound. Drop by drop, it never seemed to stop.

The instant the sleeve was rolled up, Butcher Zhang beside him drew in a sharp breath.

The dim firelight could not conceal the poor old man’s scars. The wounds looked like whip marks, or knife cuts, or perhaps burns from a scalding hot iron seared onto the skin. They were layered on top of each other, old wounds unhealed with new ones added, some seeping pus and emitting waves of foul odor, with maggots slowly crawling in the festering sores. Ah Shun felt nauseous, a heavy feeling in his chest.

His mind chilled at the thought of Feng Yutang’s methods.

Even a condemned criminal should not have to endure such treatment. It was meant to make life worse than death, not granting a quick end. Jiang Li had only rolled up one sleeve, revealing one arm, and from that alone, one could imagine how many similar scars covered Xue Huaiyuan’s body?

In such a dark and bottomless prison, continually subjected to brutal punishment, neither able to live nor die, no wonder Xue Huaiyuan had gone mad. Ah Shun even felt that if Jiang Li did not come to rescue this official, the upcoming execution might be a relief for County Magistrate Xue.

Such days were too hard to bear, too hard to bear.

At the same time, he doubted in his heart whether such a County Magistrate Xue, even if rescued, could live much longer? Even if he survived by chance, an insane person who lost everything, living like a walking corpse, what meaning would that have?

Just as he was thinking this, a low moan suddenly echoed in the prison.

Ah Shun was startled. Following the sound, he was surprised to discover that the one making the noise was none other than Miss Biao, Jiang Li.

That girl who always liked to smile gently, who was composed and who confronted mad crowds in Lizheng Hall with solemnity, was now kneeling on the ground, emitting a sound from her throat that was both happy and sad. She slowly bent over, embraced Xue Huaiyuan’s shoulders, and burst into loud sobs.

Ah Shun was stunned; Butcher Zhang too was silent. The prison, where inmates from cells big and small had been shouting in protest at their arrival, had suddenly quieted down. The girl’s crying was all that could be heard.

The crying seemed infectious, flickering in the dim light of the prison like a person who, after years apart from life’s joys and sorrows, suddenly gains a chance at renewal and weeps in overwhelming joy, or like standing before the roaring Yangtze River, lamenting the bygone times that can never return, a sorrow for what’s missed in this world.

It sounded so sad, so heart-wrenching.

The girl was not repulsed by the foul smell or the maggot on the prisoner’s body; she clung tightly to him, like a lost little girl who, upon seeing her father in the crowd, grasped the lifeline without hesitation, crying her heart out in relief.

Jiang Li’s heart was overwhelmed with grief.

Xue Huaiyuan was only a few years older than Jiang Yuanbai. In the past, Xue Huaiyuan was also like a bamboo in the forest, distinguished though not as refined as Jiang Yuanbai, yet he possessed his own integrity. Her tall father had aged so rapidly, so rapidly, that before reaching the age of knowing Heaven’s mandate, his hair was already all white. How could this be if not for suffering a great trauma?

His body was covered in scars, and the thought of those unbearable days made Jiang Li’s heart wrench. If she had become Jiang Li a little sooner and returned to Tongxiang, would her father have endured less torture? Or if she had not provoked Shen Yurong and there had been no Princess Yongning, staying in Tongxiang would have allowed her to live peacefully with her father Xue Zhao until old age.

Fate played with people, toyed with them in the palm of its hand.

The bones of the person beneath her hands were harsh to the touch, as if the body bore no flesh, nothing but bone. Feng Yutang barely gave Xue Huaiyuan enough food to survive, forcing him to endure hunger and cold.

Suddenly, amidst Jiang Li’s cries of agony, a weak voice emerged, as faint as a whisper in a dream.

"Ah Li?"