Night falls quickly in the mountains. After the fog completely dissipates, a chill seeps in through the cracks in the wooden cabin, and the air becomes icy cold.
The iron chains rubbed against the red and swollen wrists and ankles of Jiang Linchuan, causing a stinging pain, but he simply adjusted his posture without making a sound and remained leaning against the corner of the wall.
The wooden door was kicked open with a bang, and the lean man from earlier in the day walked in carrying a rough porcelain bowl, a gloating smile on his face.
He didn't approach; he simply raised his hand and flung the contents of the bowl onto the wooden table in the corner without any hesitation.
Two cold, hard steamed buns rolled out and landed on the dusty ground, covered with a thin layer of dirt, along with a small half-bowl of bland wild vegetable soup, which splashed onto the table.
The man chuckled, crossed his arms, and looked down at Jiang Linchuan. "Weren't you so capable? You used to kill enemies on the battlefield and conduct reconnaissance in the city, so impressive. How come you've become like this?"
He kicked the steamed bun on the ground with his toe, his tone becoming increasingly sarcastic, "You can't even get a clean meal, you have to pick up dirty things from the ground to fill your stomach, is this the backbone you uphold?"
Jiang Linchuan didn't even lift his eyelids. Only after the man finished speaking did he slowly move his body, the iron chains dragging on the ground with a rattling sound.
He bent down, picked up the two mud-covered steamed buns, gently brushed off the dust with his fingertips, and took a bite without hesitation.
The cold, hard steamed buns had an earthy smell and hurt my gums, but Jiang Linchuan ate them calmly.
He once spent half a month in the wilderness during an undercover mission.
After running out of food, they ate insects, rats, and even inedible clay. Compared to those things that caused stomach cramps and weakness, this steamed bun covered in mud was a rare treat.
Moreover, now is not the time to be particular. Only by ensuring physical function can we persevere and play a role at crucial moments.
Instead of becoming a helpless burden.
Even if you're a prisoner, as long as you're alive, there's a chance to turn things around.
"Hey, you actually eat it!" The man laughed even harder as he saw him swallowing the dirty steamed bun without any restraint. "Sure enough, a tiger fallen into the plains is bullied by dogs. Now you're a prisoner, and you're still putting on airs in front of Sister Hong. Sister Hong is giving you face by liking you, and you're not happy about it. You really don't know what's good for you!"
Jiang Linchuan ignored his sarcasm, ate a steamed bun in a few bites, then picked up the wild vegetable soup on the table and drank it all in one gulp.
The bland soup slightly relieved the dryness of the steamed bun and brought a slight warmth to the cold body.
Seeing that he was being ignored, the man lost interest, spat, and walked away grumbling, "Hmph, eat up, eat more, so that we don't have to waste our energy dealing with you if you starve to death someday."
After saying that, he turned around and slammed the door shut, the wooden door making another loud bang that sent dust flying from the roof.
After finishing the remaining steamed buns, Jiang Linchuan put the empty bowl aside and slowly moved to the earthen bed in the corner of the wooden house to sit down.
The earthen bed had long since cooled down, but it was still slightly better than sitting on the cold ground.
He closed his eyes, leaned against the wall, seemingly resting, but his ears were perked up, carefully listening to the voices coming from next door.
This group of people were far too careless.
Perhaps they felt he was firmly chained up and unable to escape, or perhaps they felt he was nothing more than a lamb to the slaughter, unable to cause any trouble, so they often spoke to him without any restraint.
During the day, people would discuss the defenses of the outpost in the courtyard, and at night, the next room would be even noisier, with people drinking and playing drinking games, and a lot of information would always be leaked between them.
Jiang Linchuan silently remembered it.
He learned that there were about fifteen or sixteen people in the stronghold, most of whom were brainless thugs, and the only real core members were Sister Hong and two other men.
He learned that they were waiting for a shipment, but he didn't know exactly what it was; however, the tone of their voice suggested it was extremely important.
He also learned that the crucial information they mentioned, which could kill someone, wasn't hidden in any secret place; it was kept close to Sister Hong's body in a small, palm-sized black leather notebook.
He lacks nothing now. He knows the enemy's details, knows the target's location, and has enough patience and perseverance. All he lacks is a suitable opportunity.
A chance to break free of the chains, get the information, and then escape!
Opportunities will always come.
As long as he perseveres, one day he will be able to escape this place with this intelligence and reunite with her.
Outside the wooden house, the wind howled.
Just then, the wooden door was suddenly kicked open from the outside.
Two men barged in and, without a word, went straight to Jiang Linchuan. One of them bent down and roughly grabbed the chain on his wrist, while the other grabbed the chain on his ankle and pulled hard. "Get up! Come with us!"
The iron chain was suddenly tightened, digging deep into the red and swollen areas of Jiang Linchuan's wrists and ankles. Jiang Linchuan frowned slightly in pain, and fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead, but he still didn't utter a sound.
Although he has been imprisoned these days, he has not suffered any physical pain and seems to be able to eat peacefully.
But in the days immediately following his own demise, he endured a great deal of inhuman torture.
Water dungeon, whipping, finger clamping, all sorts of tortures were used in turn, just to force him to reveal information and submit.
Although the wounds had scabbed over, they still ached faintly in the damp mountains, reminding him that his current situation had never changed.
Judging from the looks of things tonight, it looks like they're going to torture him again.
Jiang Linchuan was dragged to his feet by the two men. The chains dragged on the ground with a screeching sound, and with each step, the chains on his ankles rubbed against his skin.
But he still stood tall with his back straight and his eyes calm, showing no sign of fear.
Two men escorted him across the yard and toward a more secluded house behind the wooden cabin.
That room was rarely visited; the doors and windows were always closed, giving it a sinister feel.
Pushing open the door, a strong smell of blood and rust hit me.
The room was empty except for a few instruments of torture placed in the corner. A dim oil lamp hung from the rafters, its flickering light casting long shadows of the three men.
The man pushed Jiang Linchuan to the center of the room, used an iron hook to fix the iron chain on his wrist to the roof beam, leaving him barely able to stand and unable to move. Then he turned around and left, closing the door and leaving Jiang Linchuan alone.
Jiang Linchuan lowered his head and silently adjusted his breathing.
Did Sister Hong suddenly resort to torture tonight because he refused her demands and wanted to force her to submit through torture?
Or is there another purpose?
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