He wasn't surprised by this; anyone with a modicum of reason could see that this was a risk-free business.
"The method of communication, the meeting place, the token of the meeting, and everything else."
If it's true, I swear in the name of the Qin clan that as long as I live, I will do everything in my power to protect your Jiang family bloodline.
I won't exaggerate, but I'll guarantee your bloodline will survive; you can change your name and remain uninvolved.
Lord Jiang, fortunes change every thirty years; the Jiang family may well have a chance to rise again.
As long as you're alive, there's a chance to ride the east wind.
Deathly silence descended once more.
The flame in the oil lamp flickered restlessly, twisting and elongating the shadows of the two men, as if in a silent confrontation.
Jiang Jinxiao slowly closed his eyes, seemingly making a final decision.
When he opened his eyes again, all that remained in them was resolute ashes.
"Okay..." His voice was so low it was almost inaudible, carrying a weariness like a lamp running out of oil, "I'll tell you..."
Qin Wenyuan quickly moved closer, revealing his eagerness.
But what could he do? Jiang Jinxiao had no bargaining chips from beginning to end.
Qin Wenyuan's eyes flashed with a sharp light as he quickly etched the key information into his mind, repeating it several times to deepen his memory.
He finally gave Jiang Jinxiao a deep look, his gaze complex and unreadable.
There was a sense of relief at achieving one's goal, and also a hint of barely perceptible pity.
"I mean what I say."
Qin Wenyuan made a solemn promise, said nothing more, and quickly put his hood back on, concealing all his expressions.
He turned and resolutely stepped into the shadows of the passageway, his footsteps fading into the distance.
Jiang Jinxiao was the only one left in the cell.
Still leaning against the cold stone wall, listening to the receding footsteps, it felt as if the last bit of strength had been drained away.
He slowly raised his hands, which were shackled with heavy chains, and covered his face.
In the darkness, a suppressed whimper, like that of a wounded beast, was completely swallowed up by the boundless silence and despair.
The flame of the oil lamp struggled and flickered beside his hunched figure, eventually dimming.
After an unknown amount of time, Jiang Jinxiao looked up again.
With the back of his head pressed against the cold stone wall, his gaze pierced through the polluted air, seemingly looking at the endless darkness above the prison.
He reached for the oil paper package in front of him, tore open a small packet, and poured the white powder into his mouth.
Before long, his breathing became rapid, and he felt completely drained, like a lump of mud.
"Hehe, hehehe..."
A faint chuckle could be heard, devoid of sorrow, only pure joy.
As if someone had smoothed out the deep lines on his face, Jiang Jinxiao's smile became as innocent as a child's...
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