Chapter 23: The Prisoner

Yang Tian was contemplating the blueprint for the desolate city when a soldier came to report.

“Lord Governor, the prisoner Yu Houwen wishes to see you.”

A prisoner?

How odd.

“What’s going on? Who is Yu Houwen?” Yang Tian was momentarily puzzled.

“Yu Houwen was once the city captain of this place. He was imprisoned three years ago, and today he suddenly caused a commotion in his cell, demanding to see you, claiming he has urgent matters to disclose,” the soldier replied.

A prisoner was the city captain?

Yang Tian asked why he was imprisoned.

The soldier did not know, only that it was a direct order from the imperial court.

Three years ago, he hadn’t yet served in the city governor’s mansion, so his ignorance was understandable.

Yang Tian found it strange.

If the court truly wished to convict Yu Houwen, he should have been sent back to the imperial city’s dungeon.

Yet he wasn’t executed, and instead kept in the desolate city’s prison.

Yang Tian didn’t go immediately; instead, he instructed the soldier to summon Chen Qinglin.

He wanted to understand the situation before deciding whether to meet Yu Houwen.

Before Yang Tian became the city governor, for several years, the highest official in the desolate city had been Chen Qinglin, the city defender.

This alone showed how the imperial court had abandoned the city.

As a prefectural city, it should have a governor overseeing administration, with broad authority to appoint or dismiss most officials.

Beneath the governor, there should be one city defender, one city captain, and one city inspector, each assisting in various aspects of governance.

These three officials were appointed and dismissed by the imperial court.

A few years ago, there had been a city governor, captain, and inspector, but now only Chen Qinglin remained — an absurd situation.

Who exactly was Yu Houwen? Why was he imprisoned, yet not sent to the imperial city?

And what did he wish to tell Yang Tian?

The questions were many.

Before long, Chen Qinglin arrived, panting.

The citizens had been overly enthusiastic; it had been a long time since the city bustled with such vitality. Chen Qinglin and the others were surrounded by townsfolk eager for answers, and only after much effort did they disperse everyone, asking them to wait for further announcements.

He hadn’t even had a chance to rest before the governor sent for him.

The imprisoned city captain, Yu Houwen, was demanding to see the governor.

Chen Qinglin was momentarily dazed, taking a while to recall Yu Houwen.

The city’s prison had fallen into neglect.

There were hardly any prisoners, for there was little need.

Minor disputes among the people were easily resolved.

Greater offenses resulted in offenders being sent to the border as soldiers, a form of punishment.

Life was hard for everyone; all were poor, with little disparity, and few had the heart for crime.

“Governor, you wish to know about Yu Houwen?” Chen Qinglin steadied his breath and spoke directly, without preamble, sharing all he knew. “Yu Houwen arrived in the desolate city four years ago. He served as city captain for less than a year before an imperial edict arrived: his martial abilities were sealed, and he was imprisoned. The reason given was that the Yu family was suspected of colluding with rebels. He was to be held until further investigation, then sent to the imperial city for execution. But nothing followed; the court’s only reply was to keep him imprisoned, awaiting orders.”

At the time, Chen Qinglin and others were puzzled.

Even if the Yu family was merely suspected of rebellion, Yu Houwen should have been sent to the capital.

Perhaps the distance made it inconvenient, but three years had passed and still there was no conclusion — bizarre indeed.

The Yu family was a prestigious clan in the capital.

Yu Houwen’s elder brother, Yu Houyun, the family head, had once served as a third-rank official in the court.

Yu Houwen’s arrival in the desolate city did not seem like exile or demotion — Chen Qinglin knew nothing of the true circumstances.

The only news he had gathered was that the Yu family was destroyed three years ago, charged with colluding with rebels.

By rights, Yu Houwen should have been executed, but instead he seemed to have been forgotten by the court — a most peculiar affair.

Chen Qinglin said that Yu Houwen had made no noise in three years; he had nearly forgotten the man was still imprisoned.

Yang Tian’s curiosity was piqued; he decided to meet him.

The city prison was built on the west side of the governor’s mansion.

Guided by a soldier, Yang Tian entered.

The prison was dim, damp, thick with mold, and tinged with a faint stench.

“Bring him here.”

There was no need to venture further into misery; Yang Tian instructed the jailer to escort Yu Houwen to him, waiting in the guards’ duty room.

A square wooden table stood in the center, cluttered with wine jars and bowls.

Guarding the cells was dull work; jailers drank to pass the time.

The wine was cheap; they could not afford better.

There was little good wine in the desolate city — food was scarce, and brewing wine was a waste.

Yang Tian had tasted several varieties in this world and abandoned any thought of a wine business.

There were low-proof fruit wines and stronger spirits, but the trade was unsuitable for his ambitions.

Clang, clang—

Yu Houwen’s wrists and ankles were shackled.

Long, disheveled hair covered his face, his prison garb loose and stained, his feet clad in straw sandals.

The jailer escorted the man, bound in heavy chains, and tried to ingratiate himself, “Lord Governor, the prisoner has been brought.”

“Very well, you may leave,” Yang Tian nodded.

“Governor Yang, could you unlock my handcuffs?” Yu Houwen’s hoarse voice sounded.

The jailer was about to protest, but Yang Tian spoke, “Unlock him.”

“Yes, Lord Governor.” The jailer, reluctantly complying, removed the restraints he had added himself.

The heavy chains clattered to the ground. Yu Houwen flexed his hands and walked straight to the table, sitting across from Yang Tian.

He casually grabbed a wine jar and drank in great gulps, showing no sign of recognizing his status as a prisoner.

“All right, you may go,” Yang Tian waved the jailer away.

He had no concern for Yu Houwen’s actions — the man was now just an ordinary, weakened person.

Yang Tian did not ask questions, merely sat in silence.

As Yu Houwen tilted his head to drink, his hair fell aside, letting Yang Tian glimpse his face.

Pale and bloodless, eyes clouded, lips cracked, skin wrinkled.

Three year