Chapter 553: Blood Calamity

The jailer frowned for a while, feeling somewhat annoyed. Wang Li’s storytelling skills were truly remarkable; his imprisonment for over a year had brought a rare amount of enjoyment to Changyang Prefecture Prison. Of course, Wang Li’s value extended beyond mere entertainment. For the jailer, diversion was good, but real money was the tangible benefit, such as from the seemingly influential and exceptionally generous Ms. Zhang.

'Alas, it's a pity. Once this storyteller is gone, there will be fewer opportunities to make money. Fortunately, we can still gain something by getting rid of him.'

Orders came down, and naturally, there were significant benefits. After all, even Minister Yin from the capital had spoken on Wang Li's behalf, so eliminating Wang Li carried some risk. However, the risk wasn't substantial; if they followed the jailer's plan, the guards would likely only receive a few reprimands.

At that moment, some jailers arrived for a shift change, allowing a few colleagues to go for food and rest. One of them walked directly up to the jailer and asked,

"Boss, are we going to listen to Mr. Wang's 'Tale of Yi Jiang' later?"

The jailer took a sip of wine and replied,

"Of course, we're going! But you're late. We've already heard the second half. It's really not satisfying if you don't hear the whole thing. If you don't listen now, you'll never get the chance."

"You're right. But thankfully, there's still some time left. If we listen to one story every few days, we can hear quite a few. And here, we don't even need to pay coppers; a bowl of tea is enough!"

"Mr. Wang seems to have an endless supply of stories in his mind; he can always come up with new ones. No wonder he was so famous to begin with."

The other jailers didn't catch the hidden meaning in the jailer's words, naturally assuming they were discussing Wang Li's impending release. By afternoon, except for two who had to stand guard at the entrance, the remaining jailers, along with the jailer, brought stools and gathered around Wang Li's cell. After his midday nap, Wang Li was also refreshed and invigorated.

Zhang Rui was still walking through the snow, holding her white umbrella. After leaving the yamen, she first returned the food box to the restaurant, then slowly retraced her steps. However, halfway back, her gaze suddenly fell upon a somewhat familiar figure approaching.

Ji Yuan, walking among the crowd, showed no special aura whatsoever, appearing no different from an ordinary mortal. Zhang Rui paused, then looked closely, only then confirming that she hadn't mistaken him. She quickly hurried forward, calling out from a distance,

"Mr. Ji!"

Ji Yuan had come specifically for Zhang Rui. Hearing her voice, he nodded towards her, his gaze sweeping in the direction she had come from. After taking a few more steps closer, he spoke in his usual tone.

"You went to the prison to see Wang Li?"

"Sir, you already know?"

Ji Yuan shook his head and pointed to a teahouse nearby.

"I only know Wang Li is in prison, but I'm not clear on why. Let's go sit over there, and you can tell me about it."

"Yes, sir!"

Zhang Rui naturally complied with Ji Yuan's words, quickly following him to the teahouse. Once seated, Zhang Rui recounted everything about Wang Li's imprisonment, explaining how it stemmed from the stories of the old turtle.

Originally, Wang Li was invited to a large restaurant to tell stories, drawing thunderous applause. Among the audience was a fellow storyteller who secretly memorized his tales. This person, having long heard of Wang Li's fame, held him in high esteem and flattered him profusely. Later, Wang Li even invited him home to discuss stories.

Unfortunately, it was a case of knowing a person's face but not their heart. This fellow storyteller, who appeared to have become good friends with Wang Li, later scouted out his home multiple times and then, when Wang Li was away, snuck in and stole many of his manuscripts. Crucially, among them was an initially revised manuscript of the story involving the Xiao family and the old turtle.

That storyteller, being an industry insider, knew it was a good story just from a quick glance. He didn't overthink it; naturally, he intended to use it for profit. Since Wang Li was in Changyang Prefecture, the storyteller, having some semblance of shame, secretly went to the capital and began telling stories he had stolen from Wang Li.

He did manage to gain some fame, but the fatal flaw lay in Wang Li's manuscript. Although the dynasty was changed and the imperial surname Yang avoided, the section concerning the Xiao clan remained untouched. After only a few performances, a major problem arose: the Xiao family took notice.

Not only was the storyteller privately apprehended, but he shamelessly implicated Wang Li. Although Wang Li was in Changyang Prefecture, trouble came from the capital, and he too suffered. If Yin Qing hadn't already had an aversion to the Xiao family and opportunistically intervened upon hearing the matter, restricting the Xiao family's actions, both Wang Li and the storyteller would likely not have survived. However, the charge of slandering a court official was undeniable, so he still had to go to prison.

Power struggles were indeed brutal. In his early years, Yin Qing was not well-known, and it was widely believed in official circles that his prominence was solely due to his father's influence. However, in recent years, fewer people held that view. Many seasoned officials had vaguely come to understand that no one from the Yin family was simple, which was why the habitually arrogant Xiao family had let the two storytellers off relatively lightly.

That was the full account as explained by Zhang Rui. Ji Yuan listened to it all without expressing any opinion, simply cracking the melon seeds on the table.

"Oh, Mr. Ji, did you come this time for me to accompany you to pick up Sister Bai?"

He smiled and nodded.

"Precisely. The time limit has been reached; it's time."

Zhang Rui hesitated before speaking.

"Sir, when exactly? Wang Li isn't due for release for several more months..."

"Hehehehe, don't worry, there's still enough time. We can wait until Wang Li is released."

As Ji Yuan spoke, his thoughts drifted to Changyang Prefecture Prison. He had roughly calculated earlier that Wang Li was facing a misfortune involving bloodshed.

Meanwhile, as the two entered the teahouse, the small paper crane was already flapping its wings and flying towards the yamen prison.

Given the paper crane's current speed, it reached the prison exterior in mere moments, hovering for a while above the heads of two jailers.

"Ho-hum..."

One of the jailers yawned, and as yawns can sometimes be contagious, the other jailer, seeing his colleague yawn, also let out one. A flash of white light then shot past their heads and flew into the prison.

The paper crane flew close to the prison ceiling. Whenever it encountered patrolling jailers, it would immediately stick motionless to the ceiling. However, it quickly realized that these men, armed with sticks and knives, never looked up. Reassured, it boldly flew directly to the ceiling of Wang Li's cell.

Once there, the little paper crane hung in a shadow on the cell ceiling, resuming its favorite task of observation: watching the expressive Wang Li, and observing the engrossed jailers and other prisoners nearby.

An older-looking jailer, sitting among his colleagues, subtly changed his expression and leaned forward almost imperceptibly. Seeing this, the little paper crane seemed to understand something immediately. It tilted its paper head, looked at its tail, then looked down.

"Pfft..."

An extremely faint sound was drowned out by Wang Li's voice, but the little paper crane seemed to have heard it.

"Ugh, who farted?!"

"Yeah, what did you eat to produce that..."

"It's horribly stinky..." "Fan it away, fan it away..."

The older jailer was the first to "make trouble." The other jailers grumbled and dispersed for a moment. While the prison itself always had a peculiar odor, their desensitized sense of smell clearly did not extend to this new, pungent scent. After the jailers fanned their clothes to clear the air, they sat down again to listen to the storytelling.

As time passed, the sky outside the small barred window above Wang Li's cell grew darker. The day's story had long since concluded, and the jailers had all dispersed.

Wang Li lay drowsily on his cell bed. Just then, a jailer approached, rapping twice on the bars.

"Mr. Wang? Mr. Wang?"

Wang Li startled awake and sat up abruptly.

"Oh? Officer, what can I do for you?"

"Oh, a waiter from Menyan Restaurant delivered a food box. He said Ms. Zhang ordered it for your dinner when she left earlier today."

"Really!"

Wang Li's face lit up with pleasant surprise.

"Hehe, Mr. Wang, you're quite fortunate! It seems Ms. Zhang has a secret fondness for you—it makes others green with envy!"

Wang Li scratched his head and smiled.

"You shouldn't say such things casually. How could I ever be worthy of her? Besides, I didn't get enough to eat at dinner!"

The jailer opened the cell door, handed the food box to Wang Li, and also lit the candle holder inside.

"Well, I won't disturb you then. I'll come back to clear up after you're done eating."

"Alright, officer, take care!"

Wang Li rubbed his hands. As soon as the jailer closed the cell door and left, he eagerly opened the food box. Upon seeing its contents by the candlelight, he immediately frowned.

'The dishes are far worse than what Miss Zhang usually brings... Oh, and there's wine?'

Zhang Rui rarely sent him wine, but seeing it, Wang Li was naturally a bit happier. With that thought, he grabbed his bowl and chopsticks and began to eat. Then he reached for the wine pot, intending to drink directly from the spout.

However, before the wine pot even reached his lips, a flash of white light suddenly darted past.

"Clang!"

"Hiss..."

Wang Li clutched his hand and stumbled back a few steps. He looked at the shattered wine pot, then suspiciously eyed various parts of his cell. What had just happened?

"What a waste of this wine..."

After a long while, Wang Li, concluding it was likely a cramp combined with blurry vision, could only lament.

A little while later, the jailer returned to the hall outside the prison, carrying the food box. He shook his head at the jailer.

"The wine pot broke."

The jailer's expression turned serious.

"Hmm? Did he suspect something?"

"Probably not. I was lurking nearby; it seemed to be an accident."

The jailer frowned, lost in thought.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow."

"Understood."

The method involved a potent substance. A suitable dose of laxative had been added to the wine, its taste masked by the alcohol. Wang Li was supposed to suffer from incessant diarrhea for several days. Then, a doctor would be called in, adhering to proper procedures, to examine him and prescribe medicine, thereby demonstrating the jailers' apparent concern. However, the task of brewing the medicine would, of course, also fall to the jailers. They would continue adding appropriate laxative doses to his medicine, gradually reducing them, ensuring that in not too long, Wang Li would die in prison from a "severe illness" that even a coroner wouldn't be able to detect.