Chapter 139: Stirred Emotions (2)

Feng Qiuqi and the others followed behind Qin Han, observing that he was being fairly well-behaved, not taking Shen Qing anywhere else but genuinely bringing her to the Ministry of Justice. Feng Qiuqi surmised that Qin Han intended to use this as leverage against Shen Qing.

Once they entered, Feng Qiuqi and Ling Zetian's group naturally slipped in without any trouble.

The prison had not seen sunlight for years, making it exceedingly dim and gloomy, and Yang Siyuan was naturally trapped within this darkness.

He had been here for nearly a year now, having almost lost all hope in life. His heart was filled with sorrow, for his parents had once held high hopes for him, expecting him to pass the imperial examinations, return home in glory, and bring honor to his ancestors. Unfortunately, he had instead become an outlaw, and as if that were not enough, he was now locked away in prison.

The Ministry of Justice's prison held only those who had committed no serious crimes, for heavy criminals were typically confined to the imperial dungeon. As such, few people paid attention to this place, and it was rife with miscarriages of justice. Yang Siyuan was terrified, afraid that he would spend the rest of his life here, never to see the light of day again. But what use was his fear? He had no connections, and no one knew who he was. Thinking of his mother, who was all alone in the world, his heart ached. Though he had entrusted his brothers in the gang to look after her before he left, no matter how kind others were, how could they compare to one's own son? His mother had raised him to adulthood, yet he could not even see her through her old age or give her a proper burial—it was truly a deep regret.

"Yang Siyuan, this young master has come to see you." At that moment, Qin Han swaggered in, looking immensely pleased with himself.

Yang Siyuan looked up and saw Qin Han's arrogant, haughty expression. He gave a bitter smile. This man was the son of a Vice Minister, and he had been imprisoned for so long. In truth, whether to release him or not was merely a word from Qin Han. Qin Han had once told him to kneel and beg, and he would let him go, but Yang Siyuan had refused. He knew that a man's knees held gold—that even for the sake of that, he could not disgrace his parents. This was his principle: better to die in pieces than to yield in shame.

By the dim light of the prison's oil lamp, he vaguely discerned another figure beside Qin Han—a slender silhouette that seemed to be a woman. His gaze settled upon her.

Shen Qing saw him looking at her, and her heart stirred with excitement, desperately hoping he would recognize her. Unfortunately, he looked for a long time, yet in the end, he averted his eyes.

He did not recognize her.

Shen Qing's heart ached with sorrow. Yang Siyuan had indeed long forgotten her. But to see him again within her lifetime, she was still immensely happy. Qin Han had not deceived her—this man truly was Yang Siyuan.

"Well, this young master did not lie to you, did he?" Qin Han chuckled, then turned to Shen Qing.

"What do you want?" Shen Qing knew in her heart what he wanted, but she was unwilling, for she had long heard that Qin Han's household was filled with concubines, and that he was a man of wretched character, bullying others with impunity thanks to his family background. She had always looked down on such idle, dissipated dandies. What Qin Han desired now was merely her outer beauty; once he had obtained it, he would quickly grow tired and seek new pleasures. When that time came, her fate would be far worse than it was now. So no matter what, she would not stake her entire life on a man like him.

"If you agree to marry me, this young master will release him immediately." Qin Han leered at her, his eyes roving over her body, brimming with greedy desire.

Shen Qing felt nauseated by his gaze, and without a second thought, she refused bluntly, "Impossible." There was no way she would ever hand herself over to a man like him.

"In that case..." Qin Han smiled, then clapped his hands. Immediately, a figure appeared—a man dressed entirely in black, clearly recognizable as an assassin. "Then this young master will kill him right before your eyes."

The moment Qin Han finished speaking, the jailer, being quick-witted, opened the cell door and dragged Yang Siyuan out. Shen Qing saw how downtrodden he looked—his clothes in disarray, his face covered in grime, his body riddled with scars, his lips chapped with a layer of white dead skin, and his eyes no longer holding the clear brightness she remembered. He seemed to have endured much torment.

Her heart ached for him, and paying no heed to how filthy he was, she rushed over and threw her arms around him. The man before her was no longer the lean, handsome figure she remembered, no longer the refined scholar of her memory. Yet she was overjoyed—joyful and pained at once. Joyful because she had finally found him; pained because he had suffered so much.

But the moment was short-lived. No sooner had Shen Qing embraced Yang Siyuan than Qin Han pulled her away. "He's dirty."

"No matter how dirty his body is, it can be washed clean. But if a person's heart is filthy, then no amount of washing will ever cleanse it." Shen Qing shook off his hand and looked at him, speaking word by word.

Hearing this, Qin Han laughed instead of growing angry. "This young master will ask you one last time: will you marry me or not?"

"No." Shen Qing refused him firmly once again.

"Very well, then this young master will give him a taste of something to remember." With that, Qin Han turned to the man in black. "Go. Show him a thing or two."

The man in black nodded in acknowledgment, then drew a dagger from his robes and stabbed it into Yang Siyuan's thigh.

A scream of agony tore from Yang Siyuan's throat—he could not hold it back. He glared hatefully at Qin Han. "If you've got the guts, kill me."

Hearing his cry of pain, Shen Qing's heart ached terribly. She grabbed Qin Han by the collar. "Don't you dare touch him again, do you hear me?"

"What right do you have to make demands of this young master?" Qin Han seized her hand and pried it off his collar. "This young master has already told you: if you agree, I'll let him go."

"I—!" Shen Qing wished she could plunge a knife into him, but she was merely a weak woman—how could she possibly overpower Qin Han?

"Continue." Seeing that Shen Qing remained obstinate, Qin Han raised his voice and ordered the man in black.

Seeing the blade about to fall on Yang Siyuan once more, Shen Qing could no longer bear to watch. She cried out, "Stop!"

Qin Han signaled the man in black to halt, then looked at her with a beaming smile. "What, have you changed your mind?"

"You are despicable and shameless!" Shen Qing spat at him fiercely, then turned her head away, refusing to look at him.

"My little beauty, once you've experienced such pleasure in this young master's arms that you can't bear it anymore, you won't find me despicable or shameless at all." Qin Han chuckled lewdly, reaching out to tilt her chin up with his hand.

Tears welled in Shen Qing's eyes. She absolutely refused to be humiliated like this by Qin Han—she would rather die than endure it. But if she died, what would become of Yang Siyuan? Qin Han would certainly not let him go. How was she supposed to save him?

"This young master can hardly wait any longer." Qin Han suddenly wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against the wall and beginning to tear at her clothes. "How about we do it right here, in front of your beloved man?"

"Let go of me!" Shen Qing's tears finally spilled over beyond her control. She had been doted on by her parents since childhood, and after her family's fortunes declined and her parents passed away, she had drifted from place to place, enduring many hardships. But in all that time, she had never suffered such humiliation.

Hearing Shen Qing's anguished, tear-choked voice, Yang Siyuan was bewildered. From the very beginning, he had been unable to make sense of the situation. He did not seem to know this woman, yet Qin Han was using him to threaten her. Who exactly was she?

Though he still could not figure it out, he could not bear to watch Qin Han bully a weak woman like this. Gritting his teeth against the wound on his leg, he forced himself to stand, yanked Qin Han away, and shielded Shen Qing behind him. "What do you think you're doing?"

Shen Qing, seeing him place himself before her, quickly straightened the clothes Qin Han had torn and wrapped them around herself, sobbing softly. Now she understood—with Yang Siyuan by her side, she would rather die together with him. If she could be with the one she loved, what did death matter?

With that thought, she wrapped her arms around Yang Siyuan's waist from behind.

Yang Siyuan froze. He had only stepped forward because he could not bear to see Shen Qing bullied, but who was this woman?

"Do you not remember me? Three years ago, I nearly starved to death on the street. It was you who took pity on me and gave me twenty taels of silver. Your great kindness, Young Master Yang, I, Shen Qing, will never forget in this lifetime. Though I cannot repay you in this life, I will surely do so in the next."

Hearing her tearful account, fragments of memory seemed to surface in Yang Siyuan's mind.

Yes—he remembered now. Three years ago, on a bitterly cold day, he had seen a young girl curled up on the street, her eyes tightly shut, motionless. He thought she was dead, so he went over, crouched down, and touched her face, only to find that her skin was still warm.

It was at that moment that Shen Qing opened her eyes and looked at him. Even now, he still remembered how pure and innocent her gaze had been, enough to make anyone lose themselves in it. He had taken out the only twenty taels of silver he had on him—money that was meant to be his travel expenses for the imperial examination in the capital—and given it all to her. At that moment, he had been deeply moved by her eyes, and so he had given her everything. He never expected to see her again.

After recalling this, he became even more resolute in his conviction: he absolutely would not allow Shen Qing to be bullied.

Seeing the two of them like this, Qin Han's anger flared and he flew into a rage. He ordered the man in black, "Get rid of that man for this young master."

Yang Siyuan looked at the cold, gleaming blade the man in black had drawn, and steeled himself to die.

He knew no martial arts, so he naturally could not match this assassin. But even if he could not win, he would never allow Shen Qing to be harmed. If he died here today, then he would take Shen Qing with him—he would never leave her behind to suffer humiliation alone.

"Miss, are you willing to die with me?" Yang Siyuan had met her only that once, and did not even know her name.

"It would be my greatest wish. To die together with Young Master Yang would make me very happy." Shen Qing held him tightly, pressing her cheek against his back, and closed her eyes. "My name is Shen Qing. Please, young master, remember this name well."

"Mm, Shen Qing." Yang Siyuan called her name softly.

In that moment, Shen Qing felt a profound warmth in her heart—a warmth so long absent that she was utterly enchanted by it.