Chapter 2

An Xiaohai was drenched in cold sweat from the pain but still forced himself to control his breathing and movements.

To escape this perilous night, he couldn’t risk alerting anyone.

An Xiaohai was currently by the toilet area of the prison cell, separated by a low wall built for a semblance of privacy. It was here, after lights-out, that Liu Jun had dragged him and broken two of his ribs.

Clinging to the low wall, An Xiaohai peeked out. The cell was quiet, with only faint snores breaking the silence.

The cell had six beds lined up:

The one closest to the door belonged to Wu Guanhai.

Wu Guanhai, around thirty years old, looked like a simple farmer, but An Xiaohai knew he was far from ordinary—he was the real boss of this cell.

The second bed was Liu Jun’s.

Liu Jun, in his late twenties, was burly and fierce, reportedly the top enforcer for a man known as Brother Yun outside. His arrest stemmed from a violent assault that left someone disabled.

The third bed was Liu Jiang’s.

Liu Jiang, around thirty, was icy and kept to himself. His identity was so mysterious that even prison guards steered clear of him.

The fourth bed belonged to Wang Bulai.

Young and short, just under 1.6 meters, Wang looked like a middle schooler, but this didn’t stop him from misdeeds. Outside, he was rumored to be the head of a small gang.

The fifth bed was Peng Yuangui’s.

Peng, 25, came from Sha Tau Kok Village. He had a timid demeanor that invited bullying. Fellow inmates often ordered him around, and he endured it passively.

An Xiaohai knew Peng was not as weak as he seemed; a faint, violent glint occasionally flashed in his eyes when he lowered his head.

Indeed, no truly weak person could survive in this cell.

An Xiaohai could see Peng’s violent glare because he was often knocked to the ground, giving him a lower perspective.

The others could wait, but to survive tonight, he had to deal with Liu Jun on bed two.

An Xiaohai looked up at the moonlight streaming through the iron window, guessing it was around 1 or 2 a.m. He had roughly two more hours.

He vividly recalled Liu Jun stabbing him with a toothbrush last time—it was between 4:30 and 5 a.m.

This was easy to calculate.

An Xiaohai had already been beaten to the brink of death by Liu Jun, and after the stabbing, he could barely struggle, lying on the ground for over half an hour until a guard discovered him at roll call and sent him to the hospital.

What should he do?

A flurry of thoughts raced through An Xiaohai’s mind.

Calling a guard was not an option. By the time a guard arrived, Liu Jun would have had ample time to retaliate.

Besides, nothing had technically happened yet. Even if a guard arrived and took An Xiaohai out of the cell due to his broken ribs, it would only delay the inevitable, and he might face worse when he returned.

More dangerously, alerting a guard would signal to the mastermind that he’d caught on.

Asking his cellmates for help? Impossible—if they had any intention of helping, they wouldn’t have let him lie by the toilet suffering for so long.

Fight back? Could he? Yes, he had to. He must believe it was possible!

An Xiaohai’s eyes flashed. When things reach a breaking point, hope often lurks within despair.

Quickly, his eyes focused—he had to fight back. It was the best choice among terrible options.

But he couldn’t wait until Liu Jun was awake. Now, while Liu Jun was still asleep, was his chance.

An Xiaohai averted his gaze from Liu Jun, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes, trying to regain strength and think fast.

Killing Liu Jun wouldn’t be easy.

In his current condition, a direct confrontation was unrealistic. His only chance was to strike while Liu Jun was still asleep and render him unable to fight back.

Achieving this wouldn’t be easy either, but if he could find the toothbrush Liu Jun used, it might shift the odds.

An Xiaohai began recalling the events of that night 30 years ago.

The stabbing was serious, so the prison had investigated. The official report concluded that An Xiaohai and Liu Jun had argued over snoring, which escalated into violence.

During the fight, Liu Jun fell, spotted a sharpened toothbrush under Wu Guanhai’s bed, and grabbed it to stab An Xiaohai.

So that toothbrush was Wu Guanhai’s!

Wu Guanhai explained that he had sharpened it for self-defense.

Fights and hidden weapons were commonplace in a prison full of violent offenders. Both Liu Jun and Wu Guanhai faced punishment, though not severe, and they were released even before An Xiaohai.

The explanation sounded absurd, yet the prison authorities accepted it.

Most guards didn’t care; to them, the inmates were criminals, and if a few died, it didn’t matter—better to wrap up the case quickly.

That toothbrush should be hidden under Wu Guanhai’s bed!

An Xiaohai opened his eyes.

He couldn’t be sure, but this was his last chance.

He couldn’t waste any time. Liu Jun might wake at any moment.

An Xiaohai maneuvered carefully to avoid disturbing his broken right ribs as he slowly crawled out from behind the low wall near the toilet.

The tension made his entire body tremble, but the pain in his ribs seemed to lessen. He realized his endorphins were kicking in.

He crawled past his bed and Peng Yuangui’s, sliding under Wang Bulai’s.

The iron bed’s shadow brought a strange sense of safety, calming An Xiaohai slightly.

No one seemed to have noticed him; the cell remained deathly silent, even the snoring suddenly gone.

An Xiaohai’s hair stood on end.

Peng Yuangui and Wang Bulai had been snoring, and while one of them stopping was normal, both ceasing at once was strange.

He held his breath, waiting for the snoring to resume.

Though it was brief, it felt like an eternity. Finally, Peng Yuangui’s snoring resumed, but Wang Bulai remained unnervingly silent.

Wang Bulai was probably awake, aware that An Xiaohai was now under his bed. He, too, was on edge, unsure of An Xiaohai’s intentions.

An Xiaohai exhaled and crawled toward Liu Jun’s bed.

To ease Wang Bulai’s tension, he needed to make it clear he wasn’t a threat.

An Xiaohai gambled, hoping Wang Bulai wasn’t aligned with Liu Jun.

The gamble paid off. When he reached Liu Jun’s bed, Wang Bulai’s snoring resumed faintly.

An Xiaohai closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and mentally checked off the first hurdle.

When he opened his eyes again, the toothbrush that had ruined his life lay directly in sight!

It wasn’t under Wu Guanhai’s bed but right under Liu Jun’s—just within his reach by the pillow!