Chapter 271 - Ten Miles of White Gauze
Chapter 271 of "Red Heart Patrols the Sky" opens with suspenseful action: The scene before Wu Yinquan was utterly unfamiliar.He even stepped back a few paces and... Keep going!
The scene before Wu Yinquan was utterly unfamiliar.He even stepped back a few paces and scrutinized the cellâs location several times before finally confirming that he hadnât gone to the wrong place.
This was indeed the infamous âD-class luxury cellâ in the prison, not some exemplary cell designed to deceive the authorities.
Wu Yinquan suspected the man might have been beaten to death, and these scoundrels had staged him to look like he was sleeping to avoid punishment.
He was about to go out to summon other prison guardsâas he didnât quite dare to go in and fetch the man by himself.
Just then, old Ding, a prison guard, approached, carrying something.
Upon closer inspection, he was carrying a food tray with a roast chicken, two white steamed buns, and even a pot of wine!
âWell done, old Ding!â Wu Yinquan reached out to grab a chicken leg, âWho is this for, being so generous?
You must have ârolled a fair bit of oil,â huh?â
âGenerousâ outside meant comfortable, but in prison, it meant âwilling to spend money.â
âRolling oilâ was also prison slang, meaning to accept bribes.
Avoiding Wu Yinquanâs hand, old Ding stepped to the side with the food tray and said with a forced smile, âBoss, Iâm just getting some food for Mr.
Qin.â
Wu Yinquanâs hand stalled mid-reach, and he felt slightly displeased.
He always considered himself quite generous to his subordinates, allowing them to take bribes privately and not being selfish like other petty wardens.
Catching them in the act and asking for a share seemed quite reasonable.
But this old Ding seemed so clueless!
âWonât even let me have a chicken leg?â he asked with a dark expression.
The cell was too dark for old Ding to notice Wu Yinquanâs expression.
Still, he continued to smile apologetically, âMr.
Qin likes cleanliness; if you touch it, perhaps he wonât eat it.
I didnât pay for this meal; the men in the cell contributed to it.
There wasnât enough money for the wine, so I chipped in a little.
Iâll treat you separately later.â
Wu Yinquan was even more surprised and momentarily forgot his anger.
The scoundrels in the âluxury cellâ were all tough as nails, too stingy to part with even half a Knife Coin, which is why theyâd all been crammed into the âD-class luxury cell.â
Getting them to chip in for wine and dishes was like squeezing oil from a stone.
âWhich Mr.
Qin?â he couldnât help but ask.
âI only found out this morning as well.
The convict sent in yesterday is the director of the Western City Ze Ren Medical Hall, Mr.
Qin Nianmin!
The son who inherited old Mr.
Qinâs mantle.â
âThe son of old Mr.
Qin?â Wu Yinquanâs eyes widened in disbelief.
Old Mr.
Qin was a revered figure known to all in Yuecheng, not only for his exceptional medical skills and his life-saving efforts but also for his physicianâs benevolence.
Benevolence did not mean old Mr.
Qin charged no fees; in fact, he charged hefty rates that ordinary people could hardly afford,
but his Ze Ren Medical Hall treated scores of the poor who could not afford medical care every year.
Whenever a disaster struck a part of Yuecheng or an area was attacked by Fierce Beasts, Ze Ren Medical Hall was always the first to donate.
And that was to say nothing of aiding orphans and providing porridge and medicines to Beggars.
All the high fees collected by old Mr.
Qin were spent on these causes.
Many of his disciples were orphans without a place to call home.
He not only supported them financially but also taught them skills that allowed them to be self-sufficient.
In summary, in Yuecheng, there might be people who had never met old Mr.
Qin, but nobody who hadnât heard of him.
Wu Yinquan was no exception.
âYes!â old Ding exclaimed somewhat excitedly, âMy dad is alive today, all thanks to old Mr.
Qin!â
Seeing old Dingâs rare moment of excitement, Wu Yinquan suddenly understood why the âD-class luxury cellâ was now so harmonious.
He unconsciously stepped aside, letting old Ding pass.
Old Ding passed the food tray through the small window into the cell, cursing under his breath, âHold it steady!
You wretches!â
The people inside didnât mind at all, chuckling as they received the tray, âSmells delicious!â
âDamn it, how long has it been since we had chicken?â
âHurry, hurry, let me have a sniff too!â
A group of crude scoundrels approached the bedside where Qin Nianmin lay sleeping soundly, but their voices softened, âMr.
Qin?
Mr.
Qin?
Please wake up, itâs time to eat.â
Qin Nianmin rose, sitting up on his bunk.
Wu Yinquan noticed a dark bruise at the corner of his eye, clearly, he had suffered when he first entered the prison.
The man beside him placed the food tray into his hands, âPlease eat, Mr.
Qin.â
In the room, a line of audible swallowing sounds.
Wu Yinquan couldnât help but think, for a group of inmates who could hardly be considered good men to treat someone with such genuine care, just how high must his moral standing be?
Qin Nianmin was also in his fifties and, thanks to proper maintenance, his hair showed only slight frost, and his face bore no signs of old age.
But at that moment, his expression was haggard, and he didnât touch the roast chicken.
Instead, he tore the white steamed buns into strips and ate them, bite by bite.
He didnât look as though he was eating; it was more like he was mechanically forcing himself to do something.
âIf you donât want to eat, why force yourself?â Wu Yinquan asked from outside the cell.
Qin Nianmin did not look to see who was speaking, nor did he even turn his head, simply saying, âI must stay alive.â
âThe son of Elder Mister Qin shouldnât have violated the law,â Wu Yinquan couldnât help but ask, âWhat exactly are you in for?
The person who handed you over made such a mess of it, I couldnât understand a thing.â
This time, Qin Nianmin turned his head to look at him for a while, his eyes filled with sorrow, âYouâre not too bad, I donât want to harm you.â
Wu Yinquan tactfully closed his mouth.
Having been in the great prison for so many years, he understood all too well that it was best not to know things one shouldnât.
Qin Nianmin clearly carried such burdens.
Hence, even with a father esteemed for his virtue, he still ended up here.
With this in mind, Wu Yinquan asked, âDo you want me to convey any message to Elder Mister Qin?â
In his view, the son of Elder Mister Qin was naturally worth the effort to deliver a message.
But at the utterance of his words, Qin Nianmin, who even in a cell had an air of being untainted by the world, suddenly put down his food tray and burst into loud weeping.
A man in his fifties, crying like a child.
Wu Yinquan, dispirited, left the great prison and walked with Old Ding towards the west of the city.
Elder Mister Qin was ninety years old, quite an age for longevity.
Birth, aging, sickness, and death are natural to human life.
His passing should have been something the people of Yuecheng were mentally prepared for.
But when the day truly arrived, it was still so hard to accept!
What shook Wu Yinquan was that he knew very well he wasnât what one would call a good person.
Yet, he also knew that pure and good people like Elder Mister Qin had been rare before and would only become even rarerâwith even bad people not wanting to live in a world filled only with the wicked.
When Wu Yinquan and Old Ding reached the vicinity of the Ze Ren Medical Hall in the west of the city, they stopped.
Down the entire length of the street, wreaths connected one to another, the ground covered with white tribute flowers.
But there were hardly any people.
Given Elder Mister Qinâs status today, the front of his residence should have been bustling with traffic.
Why were there only tribute flowers lining the empty street?
The scene was eerily unsettling.
With a heart full of questions, Wu Yinquan followed the long street with Old Ding, walking all the way to the front of Ze Ren Medical Hall.
The front gates were firmly closed, with a banner hanging aboveâ
Just that single line, nothing more.
Accompanying it, the deserted long street, ten miles of white silk.