In a closed prison, everything around was unfamiliar, but suddenly soone beca interested in him. This situation made Luo Zheng alert yet filled with a touch of anticipation. The information implied by "Yellow Race" was too insufficient to make any judgnt. After pondering for a while, he returned to his training. The narrow cell was fitted with a sandbag as tall as a man, which made the already limited space even smaller. The sandbag was installed the day after he requested it; the police cooperated. Luo Zheng didn't want to challenge the limits of the police too much and invite deadly trouble. Everything had a asure, and it was wise to stop while ahead.
After training for a while, Luo Zheng felt that his strength had grown a bit. His injuries had been healing over these days with the help of diet improvent; the nutrition was much more balanced and he had mostly recovered. His condition was also much better. When tired, he would rest, and once rested enough, he would resu training until the next alti.
The old man ca again pushing the food cart, and Luo Zheng approached with expectation, eyeing the old man coldly. The old man hurriedly took out the food and placed it at the door, within Luo Zheng's reach, then stepped back two paces, as if afraid that Luo Zheng would reach out and beat him. Speaking in a lowered voice, the old man said, "The other party doesn't want to talk."
"Huh?" Luo Zheng was startled but didn't trouble the old man further. He took the food in to eat, musing while he ate. He couldn't understand why that person was curious about him or why they wouldn't reveal their identity. Was it worry? Or just simple curiosity? After much thought and coming to no conclusion, he put the matter aside.
In the following days, Luo Zheng continued the simple life of training, eating, reading, and sleeping. The monotony was enough to drive one mad. When restless, Luo Zheng would lie on the bed thinking of Lan Xue, his family, and brothers like Ghost Hand. It was these thoughts that kept the will to live from vanishing, desperately propping up his resolve to survive day after day.
He didn't know how much ti had passed, but one day, as Luo Zheng lay on his bed feeling unbearably irritable, thoughts of Lan Xue gradually cald his turbulent emotions. He took a deep breath and began to ponder. It had been so long, and Lan Xue and the others hadn't co to rescue him, which surely ant they hadn't found him. He wondered how Lan Xue was doing, if she was despondent, and how his family and brothers were faring.
As he thought of Lan Xue and his loved ones, Luo Zheng's agitated mood slowly settled, and once again, a strong will to live surged in him. He got up, intending to exercise, when the old man who brought his als ca and, as usual, placed the food at the entrance and took away the remaining dishes. Day after day, Luo Zheng had grown accustod to this routine.
Suddenly, the old man said in a soft voice, "The person in cell nine asked to tell you that he is from Huaxia Country."
"Ah?" Luo Zheng was startled and stared at the old man in disbelief. He had forgotten about cell nine altogether until the old man brought it up out of the blue, which made the old man's scalp prickle and he nervously took two steps back, hastening to pack up and leave. Luo Zheng had not expected there to be another person from Huaxia Country locked up here; true or not, at least the other party had shown so sincerity, and they must have had a purpose. He quickly gestured for the old man not to run away.
The old man stopped apprehensively, watching Luo Zheng, who spoke in a low voice, "Tell him I'm also from Huaxia. Ask him to reveal his specific identity and intentions."
"Okay," the old man replied noncommittally and hurried away.
Luo Zheng lost his appetite, his mind filled with concerns as he mulled over why there was another person from Huaxia Country in such a terrifying place. This person's identity must be no simple matter. Why had they sought him out? Why had they not revealed themselves earlier, and why, after so many days, did they reach out to him now?
After pondering for a long ti without understanding the key issue, Luo Zheng decided to stop thinking about it and started eating his al. After eating and resting a bit, he would usually begin training, but this ti he couldn't calm down. He had a feeling that sothing was going to happen, sothing that might be to his advantage, filling his heart with anticipation.
Having lived here for so long, Luo Zheng knew that the old man who delivered the als would not co again for a short while; he'd have to wait until the next alti. His excitent gradually settled down, with nothing else to do, he threw himself back into training. The high-intensity training over this period had improved his physical strength, punching speed, and overall stamina to a certain extent. This result brought Luo Zheng so comfort.
Ti slipped away unnoticed as Luo Zheng finished his training, washed up, lay down to rest, and picked up a psychology book. He quickly beca imrsed in the world of psychology. His studies in psychology during this ti had given him a deeper understanding of the human psyche, until the sound of the cart approached. Thinking of the matters concerning Cell No. 9, Luo Zheng sprang up and hurried to the cell door.
The old man delivering the als skillfully removed the food from the cart and placed it at the door. He stretched out two fingers in a sword-like gesture over his heart, and in a low voice said, "That person said, if you understand this, find a way to et."
"Ah?" Luo Zheng saw the gesture and his heart surged with excitent, he eagerly asked, "How old is he, male or female?"
"Around fifty, male, with a disabled leg and a head full of white hair," the old man quickly replied.
"Tell him I'll find a way as soon as possible," Luo Zheng said, elated, and let the old man leave. He looked at the food on the ground and chuckled foolishly to himself. Who would have thought, he wondered, that soone from the National Blade Special Combat Team was imprisoned here? It just goes to show that the people held here are definitely not ordinary.
The two-fingered sword gesture, representing a blade placed over the heart, signifying belief and loyalty to one's country, was a unique gesture of the National Blade Special Combat Team. Outsiders were completely unaware of it. If Luo Zheng was not a mber, he would not understand its significance. The other side had the old man deliver this gesture naturally as a test, not understanding it was alright, there would be no harm done, but understanding it was better.
"That's great," Luo Zheng thought jubilantly. After so many days, he finally heard so good news that invigorated his spirit. As for how the other person ended up here, that was no longer important. What mattered was their identity, and it seed a eting was necessary.
Thinking of the words brought by the old al-deliverer, Luo Zheng gradually cald down. eting? Easy to say, but harder to do than ascending to the heavens. This was a prison, he was not even allowed out of his cell, how was he supposed to et anyone? It seed that he could only continue with his original idea, to incite the inmates here to force the prison into making so concessions.
This was a big matter; he must plan carefully. The plan had to be thorough; otherwise, it was all too easy to provoke the prison authorities and bring disaster upon himself. Luo Zheng pondered for a while, went to the door, and looked towards Cell No. 9, but alas, the angle was wrong, he couldn't see anything. Helplessly, he returned to the punching bag.
"Thud!" Luo Zheng punched the bag, pondering how exactly he could et this person.
Note: Recomnding a book, "The Supre Rural Farr," with captivating rural farming life, very charming. Friends who like urban stories might want to check it out.
User Comments
0 comments from readers