Blade and Poetry

Everything is as Shatton said.At noon, the jailer who delivered the food came.He looked really young, without the ruffianity of those soldiers, with a pair of violet eyes, the eyeballs protruding slightly, showing excessive fatigue and melancholy.He gave me a roll of battered pancakes wrapped in parchment paper, and took the parchment paper away after I finished eating.

I had been waiting for him to make his request to me, in case my invitation made him overly wary.All afternoon, however, he only rested on me oddly—as if daringly, or ecstatically.

Seeing that night was coming, he went to fetch dinner and distributed it to the two cells on the bottom floor.Sutton probably fell asleep there and didn't take his share; I ate absent-mindedly, unable to tell what was in my mouth.The young guard also took a portion, which was different from our meal, it was white bread with meat.

He took a bite of it, but then put it back.His face was still facing me, and his throat moved, as if swallowing a sigh mixed with food.

"He can't," he muttered.

After saying this, he didn't care about the food on the tray, as if he stood up and wanted to leave.

I had to shout to him: "Please wait!"

The young guard heard me and walked to the cell door without saying a word, his eyes seemed to be distracted.I had to tell him the stories I'd heard, and tell him that I could help him if he could help me escape;

"He can't," said the guard.Although he was looking at me, it was as if he was talking to himself.My mood went up and down in just one day—his words shattered the last hope I had left.

I heard myself say to him, "Could you come closer?"

Sure enough, he did what I said, and took a few more steps towards the prison door, the tip of his nose almost hitting the iron bars.At this moment, I suddenly stretched out my arms and grabbed his collar, and my knife went out through the iron bars and lay across his neck.

"I have no intention of taking a life," I whispered into his ear, "but I need you to help me break out. I need the keys to the cell."

I exploded with too much strength when I was emotionally tense, and he was so embarrassed by me that he spit out a rough breath from his throat, and the iron bars sank into his cheeks on both sides.However, his eyes glowed brightly for the first time at this moment, and his whole face was dyed with a thin layer of blush.While struggling to breathe, he muttered to himself vaguely:

"He can!"

It was as if he was not being threatened with his life by a prisoner, but had just received some kind of grace.

I unknowingly let go and saw him squatting on the ground coughing.Before his breathing calmed down, he knelt and walked to my feet, as if he wanted to kiss my shoes.I pulled him up to stand up, and he went to kiss the back of my hand again.

"Please save my sister," he said earnestly, "you are much better than I am. Surely you can."

We struck a deal with ridiculous speed.He promised that he would bring me the key to the cell by noon tomorrow, that I would change into his uniform and go out in the evening, and that he would stay there pretending to be knocked out by me, and wait an hour before calling for help.I need to send his sister to a specific room in a public hotel and wait there for his arrival.

"My sister's name is Mia Chamara, and I'm Gian Chamara. The man who ruined our family is called Fankov Maugham, and he lives at No. 55 [-]th Street." He said, "You tell my sister to wait Wait for me inside for three days. If she doesn't arrive, let her go to Uncle Kui'an's house. Uncle Kui'an happens to have a batch of goods to be shipped out of the city."

I didn't want to waste any more time, let the young guard try to split the chains of the manacles for me, and instructed him to knock on the most delicate joints.He succeeded so quickly that the knife he swung down didn't hurt me at all.So my hands were free, and only the two rings with keyholes remained attached to my wrists.I do likewise with my fetters.

"Have you ever thought about going over and learning how to use a knife?" I said to him as I struck.

He seemed to be surprised by his own results, looked at his hands repeatedly, and showed a shy smile hesitantly on his face.

"I haven't tried it," he said. "I'm not gifted in magic. I just finished school. I used to like watching swordsmen wielding swords..."

"Maybe you can learn later," I said. "You're doing really well—sometimes magic doesn't do everything."

"Yes," he said, "I want to try it. After my sister comes out, we can escape to the Seventh City, where a relative will accept us. It is said that the white hydrangeas in the Seventh City are blooming." It is very beautiful, my sister has always wanted to see it. She always said that it would be great if we had a two-story building, we could plant flowers all over the downstairs, and she would go to the balcony to look at it from time to time. You go Have you passed the Seventh City? Aren’t the white hydrangeas there beautiful?”

"I don't have any," my excitement suddenly became less high, "but I have seen patches of white hydrangeas in other places, and they are also very beautiful."

His whole body seemed to be infused with vitality by my promise, and he no longer appeared as insanely stupid as before.He talked about how good his sister is, she is the most beloved of all in his family, and she deserves it; and he is willing to protect her to be happy every day.

I couldn't help but said to him: "You have to know, you may be convicted after this, and you may not be able to leave the Ninth City immediately."

"The judge will still have to listen to me," he said firmly, "and the law. I guess it's only a charge of dereliction of duty, and if they don't see my real intentions—if the situation is that bad, I'll run away."

The law he knew had already abandoned him once, but now he relied on it wishfully.

"What if," I stared at him closely, "what if they find out and sentence you to death? Aren't you afraid of such a result?"

When he heard "death penalty", he shuddered and bit his lower lip tightly.

He replied: "I am very afraid, but what does it matter?"

The young guard came the next day as promised, bringing the key and the knife I asked for.I scraped my face clean with the aid of a knife and the water from his water bladder, and exchanged every piece of clothing with him, even the shoes—he wore a coat under his uniform and told me to leave after I left. Uniform jackets can be removed to be less conspicuous.The cuffs on my wrists and ankles were hidden in my sleeves and trousers.His figure was indeed very similar to mine, the clothes fit me perfectly, and the hair color saved me from pretending.

I lowered my brim hat to make sure all my little things were tucked into the suit.With a light click, the prison door slowly turned outward; I finally took the first step of freedom.The young guard was scarring himself, and he asked me to punch him a few times.Shatton has been watching quietly at the door of the cell.I ran and held out my hand to him.

Shatton's hand was rough and hard, like some kind of coagulated gravel.He just squeezed my hand briefly, and then let go, urging me to leave quickly with his eyes.Jian turned over and over on my side, trying to lie down, talking to himself piecemeal and making happy complaints.It was the only sound at this moment.

Shatton took a step back towards the depths of the cell, stood up straight, and bowed in a standard saber salute.

He opened his mouth and said in a tone that I couldn't hear, and no one here could hear, but it could deeply shake my heart:

"Goodbye, Sean."

I walked up the first row of stairs with my eyes closed.I let out a breath, feeling that it was very long, filled with the faint lamp oil smoke under the Dormition Prison, and could never be exhausted.Every time I walked on the first floor, I passed by a guard who was sitting or standing, and I didn't meet any conversations or questions—maybe the usual Ji'an was too withdrawn, which saved me the trouble I should have had.The prison cells on the first, second, and third floors from the bottom were in a completely different condition than when I arrived. They were all empty and the guards had already evacuated.Until I handed Ji'an's work card to the guard at the outermost gate and stepped on the land beyond this prison, I still felt like I was in a dream.

A wooden cart stopped not far from the door, and the driver called to me in the dim night: "Where are you going, Mr. Chamara?"

I was flustered for a moment before I remembered that Ji An had instructed me about this matter.

"It's the same place," I said to the coachman.