Death and Cage
Jiang Manyan's body trembled violently, without any hesitation.
With a "thud," his knees slammed heavily onto the blood-stained ground, raising a small cloud of dust.
The movements were clean and crisp, even carrying a heartbreakingly skilled demeanor, as if the action had been etched into the very bones and practiced a thousand times.
"Young Master!!"
The remaining servants, led by Hawthorn, let out a bloodcurdling scream. They no longer tried to break through, but instinctively wanted to rush over and pull their young leader out of this humiliating position.
The man, however, seemed to see a scene he found extremely satisfying. He chuckled softly and took a few steps forward. The hem of his brocade robe brushed against the bloodstains on the ground, but he paid no attention to them.
He looked down at Jiang Manyan, who was kneeling in the dust and blood, with eyes that seemed to admire a beautiful piece of porcelain that was about to be obtained and then recovered.
“Kill him.”
He parted his thin lips slightly and uttered two words, his tone as indifferent as ordering someone to crush a few ants.
"Leave no one alive."
"Brother! Brother! No!"
Jiang Manyan looked up abruptly, her eyes instantly filled with immense terror, her voice hoarse and broken.
"Please! Don't make me...hate you!"
"Hate me?"
The man laughed as if he had heard something extremely ridiculous, his laughter carrying a twisted sense of pleasure.
"Do you think... I would care?"
Before he finished speaking, he suddenly raised his foot and kicked Jiang Manyan hard in the chest with the toe of his brocade boot inlaid with black jade!
"Ugh—!"
Jiang Manyan's slender body could not withstand the enormous force. Like a kite with a broken string, she was kicked and sent flying half a meter away before crashing heavily to the ground.
A mouthful of blood gushed from his mouth, splattering onto his pale cheeks and plain clothes, a shocking sight.
He curled up on the ground, coughing violently. Each cough brought excruciating pain to his chest and a stronger smell of blood. His vision blurred.
Through his blurred vision, he could only see those cold brocade boots, walking slowly and deliberately towards him once again.
Despair, like an icy tide, completely overwhelmed him.
The mountain trails outside Jiuqian Town have now been transformed into a deathly silent battlefield.
The pungent smell of blood mixed with the stench of burning flesh was nauseating. The once orderly convoy was gone, leaving only charred remains and scattered fragments of looted crates.
Thirty-six corpses lay scattered in pools of blood and ashes, most of them unrecognizable and dying in gruesome ways. It was clear that they had been brutally "finished off" and set on fire, deliberately creating a scene of bandits wiping out witnesses after looting.
The local authorities sent to investigate merely frowned, feeling annoyed by this "common" banditry, and were preparing to routinely clear the scene to avoid blocking the road.
However, when one of them glanced at a particularly charred corpse, he suddenly froze.
The body lay face down on the ground, its back severely burned, but below the shoulder blades, a unique, bird-like blue mark, though scorched by fire, was still faintly discernible!
What terrified him even more was that a jade pendant had fallen beside that charred hand!
The man trembled as he carefully picked up the jade pendant with the tip of his knife. The jade pendant was warm to the touch, and even though it was covered in blood and ash, its exceptional quality was undeniable.
The carving is exquisite, with a black dragon coiled on it, lifelike. But the most deadly thing is that there is a dark red spot in the dragon's eye, like a drop of congealed blood, which is both eerie and noble!
"This...this is..."
The man's face turned deathly pale instantly, and his hands trembled so much that he could barely hold the knife.
"The Qin family's... Black Dragon Crimson-Eyed Pendant?!"
He had once seen a prominent figure from the Qin family in the central district wearing similar patterns on a very rare occasion!
This jade pendant appeared here, on a corpse killed by "bandits"... This is definitely not an ordinary robbery!
"Quickly! Report this immediately! Seal off this area! No one is allowed to approach!"
He roared at the top of his lungs, scrambling towards his horses. He had to get the message to the largest post station in the eastern district of the Qin family's Thirteen Factories as fast as possible! The sky was falling!
…
Meanwhile, a secret stronghold was located dozens of miles away from this dead zone.
Jiang Manyan was huddled inside a small, dark, and stuffy wooden box.
He was still wearing the blue outfit he wore when he broke through the enemy lines that day, but now it was tattered and covered in mud, blood, and some unidentified stains.
The cold wooden walls clung to his skin, and the cramped space prevented him from even straightening his legs, leaving him in an extremely painful curled-up position.
Every breath he took carried the stuffy, musty smell of the box and the stench of blood from his wounds.
Throughout the journey, he was transported like cargo, enduring a bumpy and arduous ride. The men in black who escorted him, clearly with some tacit approval or indulgence, subjected him to extreme abuse and harassment.
Rough fingers would maliciously glide across his exposed neck or wrists while he was being moved.
Through the gaps in the crate, one could hear them discussing his appearance and identity in vulgar language, speculating about how his owner would "enjoy" him.
Occasionally, the lid of the box would be briefly opened, not to let him breathe or feed him, but to enjoy his miserable and painful appearance, and even to pour cold sewage or leftover food scraps on him, which would elicit a burst of laughter.
The wound in his chest was still throbbing, and his internal organs felt as if they had shifted.
Hunger, thirst, pain, humiliation... all sorts of feelings intertwined, almost driving him insane.
But he gritted his teeth and didn't utter a single beg or groan.
He knew the man was nearby, perhaps even enjoying his miserable state. Any weakness would only embolden the other man.
In the darkness, he clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms, trying to stay awake with the sharp pain.
Qin Lingfeng... if... if he saw that jade pendant... would he believe it? Would he lose his mind and panic?
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he forcibly suppressed it. He couldn't rely on others; he had to survive on his own.
Footsteps seemed to come from outside the box and stopped in front of it. Jiang Manyan immediately held her breath, her whole body tensing up like a frightened little animal.
However, the expected mockery did not occur. A few hushed words were heard outside, as if they had received an order. Then, the box was suddenly lifted and began its bumpy movement again...
...
The days in the cramped wooden box seemed endless. Darkness, turbulence, humiliation, and constant pain stretched time out like an eternal torment.
Jiang Manyan's light blue outfit was no longer recognizable as its original color. It was soaked in blood, sweat, and maliciously splashed filth, making it stiff and clinging to her skin, emitting an unpleasant odor.
The tightness and pain in my chest never stopped; on the contrary, it worsened due to the lack of treatment and the harsh environment, and every breath felt like a burning sensation.
The men in black who escorted him initially did indeed, as Jiang Manyan had experienced, indulge in extreme abuse and harassment with Song Guansui's tacit approval.
Rough hands, vulgar language, and deliberate teasing became commonplace. They reveled in the pleasure of trampling this once revered "Sage Jiang" into the mud.
However, this situation did not last long...
During a brief rest, a rather audacious man in black, perhaps having lost his guard seeing Jiang Manyan's weak and unconscious state, attempted to slip his hand deeper into her clothes, his actions lewd and obscene.
Just as his fingertips were about to touch Jiang Manyan's skin—
"ah--!"
A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air!
A flash of cold light appeared, and the restless hand was severed at the wrist! Blood spurted out, splashing a warm, crimson stain onto Jiang Manyan's face.
The one who made the move was Fu Cong, Song Guansui's shadowy black-clad bodyguard. He withdrew his knife expressionlessly, as if he had only cut a piece of dead wood.
Song Guansui himself slowly stepped out of the shadows. He was still wearing that half-silver mask, and the lower half of his face, which was exposed, was as handsome as ever, but as cold as ice.
He didn't even look at the subordinate who was writhing on the ground clutching his wrist and screaming in agony. Instead, he turned his gaze to Jiang Manyan, who had been awakened, was coughing violently, and whose face was covered in blood and terror.
“It’s dirty.” He parted his thin lips slightly, uttering two words, his tone devoid of any emotion, yet sending a chill down the spines of everyone present…
Jiang Manyan trembled and curled up in the darkness, her blurred vision preventing her from making out Song Guansui's expression...
Consciousness blurred by pain and hunger...
He couldn't understand how the boy Song Guansui, who was arrogant but would secretly slip him medicine when no one was around, would silently take his hand to comfort him after he was bullied by his stepmother, and would even occasionally watch him practice calligraphy in a daze... could have become this cold and cruel monster.
At that time, Song Guansui treated him like the lowest servant, ordering him around and never giving him a kind look. He knew that this was all for Madam Liu's benefit.
But in private... that tiny bit of warmth in private was the only faint light he could grasp in the ice cellar of the Song family when he was young.
It can't be just because of the cash he took. What exactly happened to the Song family? What turned you into this?
He knew his brother would be angry and would retaliate, but he didn't expect it to be in this way.
This problem gnawed at his heart like a leech, causing him even more pain than his physical suffering.
He hated Song Guansui's current actions, yet he couldn't completely erase the lingering regret he felt for the boy from his memory. This contradiction tormented him greatly.
"Brother...brother," the young man murmured unconsciously.
...he was met with boundless silence.
From then on, no one dared to make any physical advances toward Jiang Manyan.
But the mental torment intensified, and food and water were cut back even more severely, often consisting of only spoiled leftovers.
The boxes were placed in increasingly awkward locations, either exposed to direct sunlight or in the cold and damp.
His pace varied, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, consuming his energy to the maximum extent.
The men in black's eyes grew even colder and more cruel, as if they were looking at something that was destined to die.
After more than ten days of such torment, Jiang Manyan's already weakened body finally collapsed completely.
His wounds became infected, his internal injuries worsened, and coupled with hunger and cold, he developed a high fever.
At first, there was an icy chill that seemed to freeze his blood; he shivered inside the box, his teeth chattering.
Then, it turned into scorching heat, as if I had been thrown into a furnace. My consciousness gradually blurred in the high temperature, leaving only instinctive, painful groans.
He fell into a complete coma and lost all awareness of his surroundings.
…
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