Only after the figure at the door disappeared quietly did Zheng Wanqing hang up the phone call which had never been connected.
She quickly tore off the edge of the newspaper and wrote a few words with an eyebrow pencil. Then she called Uncle Zhou and solemnly put the note in his hand, "Go to the Ying-Yang Concession to find Adjutant Zhou. Be sure to hand it to him personally."
Uncle Zhou nodded slightly, his eyes revealing loyalty and calmness, then turned around and walked away quickly.
Zheng Wanqing stood in the room, her heart hanging in the air, anxiously waiting for news. Every second that passed was like a heavy hammer hitting her heart.
Just when she was full of worries, she was suddenly attacked by a strong force on the back of her neck. In an instant, she felt a sharp pain, her eyes went black, and she collapsed to the ground.
When Zheng Wanqing regained consciousness, she found herself in a dark and damp cellar. A foul smell filled her nose and made her feel sick.
She subconsciously wanted to struggle to get up, but was shocked to find that her hands and feet were tightly tied with ropes and she could not move. Even her mouth was tied with a piece of rough cloth and she could only make unclear "wuwuwu" sounds.
She struggled to twist her body, trying to break free from the restraints, her eyes widened with fear and anger, and she looked around anxiously.
At this moment, the cellar door was slowly pushed open with a creak, and a figure appeared against the light. When the person came closer, Zheng Wanqing saw clearly that it was the maid Qiuyu.
A complicated look flashed across Qiuyu's eyes. She slowly squatted down and said softly, "Madam, I have no intention of hurting you. It's just that my child has been caught. If I don't do what I ask, his life will be in danger. I really have no way."
"Madam, my son is only five years old," she said, untying the cloth that bound Zheng Wanqing's mouth. A hardened steamed bun slipped out of her sleeve, and the rough bran was exposed when it was broken open. "You...can fill your stomach."
"You don't really think that Xie Yun would be soft-hearted for a 'political-business marriage'?" She raised her neck, letting the turbid light in the cellar flow across her bruised collarbone. "You should know that he has no feelings for me. With his cruel heart, how could he let you go because of me? I'm the one you should ask for help. I'm the only one who can help you now. If you let me go, I'll let my mother help you find your son."
Qiuyu's fingertips had just untied the last knot when the wooden door of the cellar was suddenly kicked open. A man in a gray cloth gown came in hunched over.
"Stupid bitch!" The man raised his hand and slapped her. Qiuyu's head tilted to one side and blood oozed from the corner of her mouth. "Can Zheng Shaoqi's daughter be trusted? Zheng Shaoqi couldn't even straighten his back when he met the Japanese Chamber of Commerce! Do you think he is still the shipping king of Tianjin 20 years ago?"
"Old Qian..." Qiuyu covered her burning cheeks with her hands, her voice filled with tears.
The scarred man "Lao Qian" suddenly approached, and his calloused thumb pressed against Zheng Wanqing's jaw, forcing her to raise her face. He grinned, revealing the gap between his missing front teeth, and the stench of cigarettes filled her nostrils, "Trading you for his Yang Village defense map is a hundred times more cost-effective than your father's broken account book."
"Stay still," he slapped Zheng Wanqing's cheek with his back, the scar twisted like a centipede with a hideous grin. He turned to Qiuyu who was lying on the ground and said, "Stupid woman, why are you feeding her? She'll run away if she doesn't have the strength. Hurry up and tie her hands and feet."
Qiuyu sobbed as she tightened the hemp rope, tears splashing onto the bruises on Zheng Wanqing's wrists, splashing tiny salty flavors. Zheng Wanqing bit her lower lip tightly, not knowing what to do.
The wooden door of the cellar slammed shut behind them, and the rusty door hinges groaned like they were dying. Zheng Wanqing could still hear Qiuyu's suppressed sobs in her ears, and the dried tears on her wrists gradually solidified in the cold air.
She listened attentively, and the sound of Lao Qian's cloth shoes gradually faded away, mixed with a few rough curses. A few faint rays of light leaked through the cracks in the cellar ceiling, illuminating the bloated body of a dead rat in the corner.
Zheng Wanqing used her shoulders to push against the damp brick wall, using the force to sit up. The blue brick wall exuded cold moisture, like countless water snakes crawling along her back. The hemp rope sank deep into her flesh, leaving blood marks like earthworms.
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