A shiny black Mercedes limousine stopped steadily in front of the mansion, the bronze star emblem on the front of the car gleaming coldly in the sun.
Xie Yun had an upright posture. He gracefully stretched out his right hand, accurately blocking the top of the car door frame, while his left hand firmly supported Zheng Wanqing's elbow. He controlled the strength just right, gently but powerfully helping her get into the car.
The car started slowly, and the wheels slowly rolled over the uneven gravel road in Tianjin, making a dull and rhythmic sound. Zheng Wanqing watched the scenery outside the car window gradually change from prosperity to desolation. The magnificent buildings in the French Concession gradually went away behind the car, and were finally left out of sight. In their place were low brick houses and wasteland covered with weeds.
Xie Yun sat quietly beside Zheng Wanqing, his slender fingertips tapping rhythmically on her knees. The slight sound was particularly clear in the quiet carriage. After a moment, he turned his head slightly, his eyes fell gently on Zheng Wanqing, and he opened his thin lips and whispered, "It's almost time."
Zheng Wanqing had already guessed that the destination of this trip was the eerie dungeon. However, as the moment approached, she could not help but feel nervous and uneasy.
Xie Yun seemed to be keenly aware of the subtle changes in her emotions. He moved a little closer to her without leaving a trace, and their warm shoulders gently leaned against each other.
The car turned into several alleys, and the road ahead became narrower and narrower, and the buildings on both sides became more dilapidated.
When we reached a remote place, we saw a winding road ahead. The roadside was overgrown with weeds, and a gloomy building was faintly visible at the end.
The rusty iron gate creaked, and the two guards in coarse cloth shorts at the door saw the car stop, and immediately stood at attention and saluted with serious and rigid expressions.
Xie Yun pushed open the car door swiftly, his leather boots stepping firmly on the ground. He turned around, stretched out his hand into the car, and said softly, "Be careful of the steps." Zheng Wanqing placed her hand on his broad palm, and with his support, slowly stepped out of the car.
The stone steps leading to the underground were covered with green moss. Xie Yun was always half a step ahead. The closer he got to the dungeon, the thicker the humidity in the air became. At the entrance of the dungeon, there were several swaying oil lamps hanging on the wall, emitting a faint light and casting strange shadows on the ground.
Xie Yun suddenly stopped, took out a silk handkerchief from his bosom and handed it to Zheng Wanqing, "If you feel uncomfortable, smell this."
Zheng Wanqing took the handkerchief and sniffed it gently. The peppermint essential oil in it exuded a cool scent, which gradually relaxed her frown and alleviated the discomfort in her heart.
The two of them slowly walked into the dungeon, and a mixture of stench and blood hit them in the face. Zheng Wanqing subconsciously covered her nose tightly with a handkerchief, and her fingers unconsciously clenched.
It was dark and dirty inside, with sewage and garbage all over the floor, water stains and mildew all over the walls, and the water stains meandering down the walls. Rats were running around wantonly, making squeaking sounds.
The dim kerosene lamp cast Lao Qian's shadow on the mottled brick wall. He was hung on the rack in the shape of a "big" by iron chains. His tattered coat had long been torn into strips by the whip, revealing the purple and black flesh underneath.
His face was swollen and deformed, the corners of his mouth were cracked, dried blood was congealed on his stubble, and his hair was wet and stuck to his forehead. He looked extremely disheveled.
"Hey, isn't this the young lady?" Old Qian heard the footsteps and raised his head with difficulty. His cloudy eyes moved and when he looked at Zheng Wanqing, he smiled distortedly and said in a hoarse and malicious voice, "Why, you came to see me?"
Zheng Wanqing's body trembled violently, and her nails dug into her palms. She stared at him intently, a trace of fear flashed in her eyes, and then was replaced by surging anger.
"Wanqing, don't be afraid." Xie Yun's voice was as cold as iron, with an unquestionable firmness, "I am here."
Old Qian spat out a broken tooth, blood foam slowly flowing down the corner of his mouth. He seemed to be having fun and continued to provoke in that hoarse and unpleasant voice: "Hey, the young marshal is here in person? What, are you heartbroken?"
Xie Yun's eyes suddenly darkened, with a violent undercurrent surging in his pupils.
Old Qian was not aware of the approaching danger, but became more aggressive. "Young Madam's skin is so tender." He licked his cracked lips and glanced at Zheng Wanqing obscenely. "It was too dark in the cellar that day, so I didn't see it carefully. Your skin is even more tender than the top prostitute in the brothel."
Zheng Wanqing clutched Xie Yun's sleeve. She saw Lao Qian's right hand twitching after his nails were pulled out.
It was this hand that tore her collar!
A sudden surge of acid in her stomach made her feel like vomiting.
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