Chapter 719: Hell (Part 2)
Zhou Tong stared at that stone wall, his gaze growing deeper and deeper, more and more sinister, like two ghostly flames.
That faint vibration seemed very ordinary, but to an underground world stabilized and protected by layers of formations, it signified something terrifying—someone had touched the formations of Zhou Prison, and not like an insect blundering into a spiderweb, but like a musician reaching out a finger, plucking a string, and gently strumming it.
Zhou Tong stared at the stone wall, not noticing that from a crevice in the ceiling of the cell, a drop of water fell.
The underground was very damp; even with the isolation of the formations, many places on the surrounding stone walls were seeping water. Even in this relatively dry cell, the scene was not particularly striking. The problem was that the drop of water fell in a very precise spot, landing right on the spout of the wine pot.
The moisture from the soil, filtered through layers of gravel and formations, seeped out from the stone wall with no impurities left, as clear as a dewdrop.
That dewdrop silently slid down the slender porcelain spout and into the wine pot.
Just then, Zhou Tong turned around.
Xue He said, "Chen Changsheng should have sensed it. He'll guess you're here."
Zhou Tong knew this, which was why he was in a hurry to leave.
He didn't know who had triggered the formation, someone capable of penetrating deep into Zhou Prison.
That person was still some distance away, but he still decided to leave without hesitation.
As Xue He had said, that person might very well be trying to use this method to notify those on the surface of his exact location.
He said calmly, "For a long time now, many people have wanted me dead."
"Same here."
Xue He picked up the wine pot in front of him and filled his empty cup.
Zhou Tong picked up his wine pot and also filled his cup.
Xue He raised his glass and said, "May your death be slow."
Death is a terrible thing, but if the process is fast enough, it could be called a relief. If it's slow, then only pain remains.
Zhou Tong smiled, lightly clinked glasses with him, then brought it to his lips and drained it.
"Even if Chen Changsheng's sword is fast, it can't get here this quickly."
Zhou Tong's gaze once again fell on the stone wall that had gone quiet.
This was the most secret and safest hiding place he had arranged for himself, yet he was now abandoning it without hesitation to find another place to take cover.
No matter how much Xue He hated this man, he had to admit that this decisiveness was truly formidable. At the same time, he was a bit curious and asked, "Although I don't know how heavy the wind and snow are today, I can imagine that there aren't many places in the capital right now that can guarantee your safety. Where can you go?"
"A rabbit keeps three burrows ready for escape at any time, let alone us humans."
Zhou Tong said, "You must be disappointed. Evil men like me don't die easily. At least, I won't die today."
Having said this, he said nothing more, walked out of the cell, and followed the dim corridor toward the even darker depths ahead.
The lamplights on either side of the corridor, like beans, were very similar to the faint light in his eyes at that moment—both were ghostly flames.
His figure gradually disappeared at the end of the corridor, as if walking toward hell, until it sank into the deepest darkness.
Through the iron bars, Xue He kept watching Zhou Tong's back, silent for a long time, continuing to stare even after Zhou Tong had vanished.
It wasn't out of emotion, nor because of the complex feelings that did exist in his heart at that moment. He just needed to be sure that Zhou Tong had truly left.
Another drop of water fell from the stone ceiling, and then a scraping sound came from the side wall.
Two hard stones were moved aside, and a clump of mud squeezed out from within.
That wasn't real mud, but a person who had been living in the dirt for dozens of days.
On the night of the Mausoleum of Books incident, Chen Changsheng was taken to the Mausoleum of Books by the Holy Empress, Tang Tang was tied up by Second Master Tang and taken back to Wenshui, and then Zhe Xiu disappeared.
No one had found any trace of him since—neither the court, the Li Palace, nor the National Academy.
It turned out he had been hiding in the North Military Command Alley all along, but deep underground.
If explained in detail, it would be long and complicated, but actually, it was quite simple.
When the Qingli Department replanted the crabapple tree and dug a tree pit in the courtyard, he jumped down from that pit and had been underground ever since.
No one knew how he had survived these dozens of days.
But for Zhe Xiu, this was a very normal thing.
He was a wolf, possessing unimaginable patience and perseverance. To capture prey, he could wait for a very long time, endure hunger and thirst that humans couldn't bear. To kill the Demon race's forward cavalry, he often lay hidden deep in the snow for dozens of days. Although snow was much softer than dirt, it was also much colder.
Zhou Tong was the most powerful prey in his hunting experience, and the one he most wanted to kill, so he had invested more patience, and of course, paid a considerable price.
His face was very pale, emaciated to the extreme. Although his gaze was still cold and focused, he was clearly much weaker than when he was above ground.
Xue He looked at him and asked, "Was it you who triggered the formation?"
"No. I don't understand formations, and I didn't know Chen Changsheng would come."
Zhe Xiu's voice was very hoarse, because he had drunk very little water these dozens of days, and also because he had spoken very little.
Xue He remembered the day he was first imprisoned in this deepest cell. The sound that came from the stone wall was very low and also very hoarse.
At the time, he didn't know who was in the stone wall, human or ghost, but after he heard what the other person said, even if it really was a ghost, he would cooperate with it.
Xue He reached out and pulled the golden spikes from his blood-stained clothes, frowning slightly and letting out a pained grunt.
More than a dozen golden spikes were all pulled out, but they were only one-third of their actual length. This was a preparation he and Zhe Xiu had made in advance.
In the original plan, he was to cooperate with Zhe Xiu to find a way to poison Zhou Tong, then delay as much time as possible until the poison took effect, at which point Zhe Xiu would break through the wall and join forces with him to launch an attack. At the start, reality was even smoother than imagined. The poisoning was completed smoothly. The unexpected part was that someone triggered the formation and scared Zhou Tong away.
Clearly, the person hidden in the shadows didn't know of Zhe Xiu's existence, and certainly didn't know of Zhe Xiu's plan, but they also wanted Zhou Tong dead.
Xue He said, "You go notify Chen Changsheng. I'll go after Zhou Tong."
Zhe Xiu didn't voice any objection, but that didn't mean acquiescence. It only meant he had no intention of listening to Xue He.
He handed a string of keys to Xue He, walked out of the cell, and headed in the direction Zhou Tong had disappeared.
At first, he walked very slowly, because of weakness, and also because for these dozens of days, he had been crawling in the dirt and hadn't walked on his feet for a long time.
It didn't take long for his movements to become coordinated. Though still not fast, they were steady enough.
...
...
In the dark corridor, Zhou Tong walked forward, turning at every section. From time to time, a door would fall, then be covered with dirt.
The underground corridors were already as dense as a spiderweb, and with these measures, they became even more complex. He believed that even if someone helped Chen Changsheng break through the court's encirclement, and Chen Changsheng found the true location of Zhou Prison and fought his way underground, there was no way he could find him.
Thinking this made him feel much more at ease. He reached out and touched his chest.
His brow furrowed, because he found that his heartbeat had become a bit fast. He didn't know if it was because he was walking too quickly, or for some other reason.
Like... fear.
He didn't want to admit he was afraid. He took a deep breath, secretly circulated his true essence, and prepared to calm his heartbeat.
The true essence flowed smoothly through his meridians, like water running in a canal. Suddenly, it encountered an impassable bank.
A sharp pain shot through his chest.
He began to vomit blood.
The blood was black.
...
...
(This is the second season of Killing Zhou. When I wrote the first season of Killing Zhou in the previous volume, everyone could tell from the chapter titles that Zhou Tong wouldn't die then. I will kill him very seriously. Today is Christmas Eve. I wish everyone a happy time, but as in previous years, I still have to say the important thing once more: Ladies, please pay attention to safety measures.)