Three Kingdoms: I am not Liu Bian

Chapter 320 Half a year of imprisonment broke the general's pride!
April 15th, the second year of the Han Dynasty.

Luoyang, deep within the Tingwei prison, is an area specifically for detaining officials with a rank of 600 shi or above.

The cells here were not as filthy and gloomy as outsiders imagined. Instead, they were built with thick, bluish-gray stone blocks, and the ground was covered with a thick layer of straw, giving off a dry, grassy smell.

In each cell, a narrow window with a thick wooden fence high up in the wall lets in a little sunlight and some fresh air, barely dispelling the stuffiness.

In the corner stood a wooden chamber pot, which was unsightly and had a slight odor, but it was cleaned by a specialist every day and was tolerable.

Against the wall was a low, sturdy wooden couch covered with a thin brocade quilt.

Next to the wooden couch was a low wooden table with a water-filled pottery pot, several pottery bowls, a few bamboo scrolls, and a set of writing brush, ink, and inkstone.

Zhu Jun sat cross-legged on the wooden couch, his back against the cold brick wall. His dark prison uniform was old and faded from washing, hastily covering his emaciated body.

The strands of hair were hastily tied up with a simple wooden hairpin, their glaring gray-white color scattered haphazardly on her forehead and temples.

In just six months, this once spirited General of Anxi and Marquis of Duyu Pavilion, who commanded more than 10,000 troops, seemed to have lost his soul. His cheeks were sunken, his cheekbones were prominently raised, and his eye sockets were like two deep pools, filled with lingering confusion and an overwhelming weariness.

Those once sharp tiger eyes now seemed to be veiled by a layer of gray, leaving only a murky dimness.

His once upright back was now slightly hunched, and his shoulders slumped limply. He was no longer the imposing general with his powerful strides. His hands, which had once commanded the troops and held sharp weapons, now rested limply on his knees, his knuckles stiff.

On the table, besides bamboo slips and writing brushes and ink, there was also lunch delivered by the jailer.

A bowl of slightly steaming wheat porridge, with distinct grains, was far more refined than the coarse and harsh bean porridge that ordinary prisoners ate.

Next to the wheat rice was a small dish of dark brown, shiny fermented black bean sauce, with a few whole fermented black beans discernible in the rich aroma; a bowl of clear bone broth, with a few condensed oil droplets and some chopped scallions floating on the surface, and a few small pieces of whitish bone fragments that had been simmered to a pale white at the bottom of the bowl could be vaguely seen.

Of course, the most eye-catching dish was a plate of neatly cut square pieces of braised beef, weighing about half a pound, with an enticing dark red color.

Such exquisite food was enough to make the prison guards who delivered it secretly swallow their saliva, but for Zhu Jun it was a regular meal.

According to Han law, those who held the rank of Grand Master of the Fifth Rank, officials with a salary of 600 shi or above, and eunuchs who were famous and had committed crimes punishable by theft or shackles were all imprisoned.

The term "Songxi" refers to the preferential treatment system for special groups in the judicial system, meaning that those who are guilty and imprisoned are treated leniently and are not subjected to torture.

At the beginning of the Former Han Dynasty, Emperor Hui of Han established the ranks of the five Grand Masters, the officials with a salary of 600 shi (a unit of grain), and some well-known officials.

During the reign of Emperor Xiaojing, an imperial edict was issued that those aged 87 and above, those under 8 years old, and pregnant women could be exempted from shackles.

In the early years of the Later Han Dynasty, Emperor Guangwu, in addition to exempting people from torture, also granted them special treatment in terms of daily life and food, which was called "Songxi".

However, Zhu Jun merely glanced at this "delicacy" that the prison guards coveted, his face remaining completely unmoved.

These meals were naturally not comparable to the lavish feasts at the General of Anxi's mansion, but what truly tormented him was not his appetite. He sat there every day, repeatedly pondering the reasons for his imprisonment.

rebellion?

With only a thousand soldiers and a few old subordinates, how could he possibly be worthy of rebelling?
Making connections with powerful families, marrying into wealthy clans, recruiting disciples, and employing tenant farmers... Since Emperor Guangwu of the Ming Dynasty, which high-ranking general or marquis did not do these things?
What they did, or even worse, why did it become Zhu Gongwei's heinous crime of betraying the emperor's grace and plotting rebellion?

The emperor once treated him with such kindness, yet now he has imprisoned him in this dark and hopeless prison.

He just couldn't figure out where he had gone wrong!
A strong sense of injustice, like cold vines, tightly wrapped around his heart, tightening more and more until he could hardly breathe.

Imprisoned here, he was like a tiger with its claws and teeth removed and locked in an iron cage. He had a bellyful of resentment but nowhere to roar and vent it. He was shackled and confined to this small space, and could only let his former spirit be silently worn away in the daily imprisonment.

This inner turmoil is far more devastating to a person than coarse food and a cold prison cell.

Meanwhile, outside the Imperial Prison, the Emperor's golden carriage slowly came to a stop in front of the heavily guarded gates.

The officer in charge of the Martial Guard Battalion who is accompanying us today is none other than General Fu De, the elder brother of Consort Fu Shou.

Fu Deli carefully placed the horse stools on the ground and gently helped Liu Bian out of the carriage.

Before he could even reveal his badge as General Ji Nu, the prison guards at the gates all bowed and paid their respects to the emperor.

Liu Bian did not disturb Guo Tu, the chief supervisor of the Court of Justice, Fa Yan, the left supervisor of the Court of Justice, and Wu Zheng, the right supervisor of the Court of Justice, who were busy proofreading and organizing the laws, so as not to add to their burden.

Although the jailers had never seen the golden chariot before, and Liu Bian was dressed in a crimson summer uniform, his fine black armor was simply too conspicuous. Anyone in the capital with such weaponry must be part of the central army.

Who else but the Emperor could be such a young man protected by the central army?
Today, the one guarding the Imperial Prison is none other than Man Chong, a disciple of Guo Tu.

Upon hearing of the Emperor's arrival, Man Chong rushed to greet him. His robes were stained with dark red bloodstains and mud, indicating that he had just come from the scene of torture and had not even had time to change his clothes in his haste.

"Your subject Man Chong pays his respects to the nation!" Man Chong bowed deeply, his breath slightly labored.

Liu Bian stepped forward, casually patted Man Chong's shoulder, and helped him up. He didn't care about the bloodstains on Man Chong's clothes, and just chuckled, "I'm going to see the prisoner who has been detained for half a year. Bo Ning, please lead the way for me."

Man Chong was slightly taken aback, a look of flattered bewilderment flashing across his face, but he quickly regained his composure and replied in a deep voice, "Yes!"

Then Man Chong stepped forward, holding a lit torch, and led the emperor and his guards into the dark passage deep inside the Tingwei prison that led to the special prison area.

Although the emperor did not say it explicitly, who else could be the General of Anxi, who could have survived being detained in the Court of Justice prison for half a year and who could command the emperor's personal presence?
The passage was exceptionally long, so long it was almost oppressive. The ceiling was low, and the thick stone walls on either side were damp. Every so often, a rusty iron ring held a flickering torch. The flickering light struggled to dispel the heavy shadows, casting huge, distorted, and swaying black shadows on the uneven stone walls.

The footsteps echoed hollowly in the narrow space, sounding unusually clear.

The air was filled with the smells of musty and dust, as well as a faint, almost imperceptible stench.

"Watch your step, country, this place is slippery."

Man Chong turned to the side, holding the torch, and whispered a reminder.

Although the passageway is flat, it is dark and damp because it is perpetually shrouded in darkness and covered with a thin layer of moss, so one must be extra careful when walking through it.

Fu De was on high alert, stepping sideways to protect the emperor. He gripped the sword at his waist with one hand and placed the other hand on the emperor's side, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily. Finally, they passed through the suffocating passage.

When clear footsteps sounded outside the prison door, Zhu Jun, who was staring blankly at the cold stone wall, suddenly trembled and raised his head.

Against the dim light filtering through the passage, he saw the figure standing outside the rough wooden fence, so familiar yet so strange.

In an instant, a bright light suddenly burst forth from his originally dim and turbid eyes, like a spark that could ignite a prairie fire suddenly rising from dead ashes!

He struggled almost instinctively to get up and bow, but his stiff body, hardened by long periods of sitting, wouldn't obey him. Instead of standing up, he stumbled awkwardly on the wooden couch and nearly fell.

Outside the prison, Fu De's eyes sharpened at the sight. He quickly took a step to the side, shielding the emperor tightly behind him, one hand already on the hilt of his sword, watching Zhu Jun warily.

Even with the sturdy wooden fence separating him, he was prepared to draw his sword at any moment to deal with a sudden attack.

Perhaps noticing Fu De's wary posture and subtle movements, Zhu Jun ultimately gave up on getting up. He simply bowed slightly by the edge of the bed, his thin fingers gripping the prison uniform fabric on his knees tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

Zhu Jun's lips moved violently, his throat bobbing, as if a thousand words were stuck in his chest, but he couldn't utter a sound because he hadn't spoken to anyone for a long time.

He simply raised his head and looked at Liu Bian, his eyes blazing with an intense, almost overwhelming, grievance.

Liu Bian stood a step away from the prison gate, his gaze calm, fixed on Zhu Jun through the sturdy wooden bars.

He looked at the emaciated prisoner before him, a stark contrast to the General of Anxi he remembered, who was spirited in the court and commanded troops with great authority.

However, Liu Bian's face showed little pity, but rather a deep sense of感慨 and scrutiny.

In truth, he had never really liked Zhu Jun.

The reason Zhu Jun was appointed as Right General of the Central Army and Governor of Liangzhou was that there was no one else available and it was necessary to ensure the basic loyalty of the front-line generals.

At that time, he vaguely felt that although this person was talented, his nature of being keen to curry favor with powerful families, to pursue personal gain, and to abuse his power for personal benefit would ultimately make him unfit for important responsibilities.

Even when Liu Bianrao was facing a situation where no one else was available, he hesitated repeatedly before appointing him.

Seeing Zhu Jun in such a state now only confirms my past judgment. I am not too surprised, only a faint sigh of things having changed.

As for the intense, almost humble, hope in Zhu Jun's eyes, like grasping at a straw, it made Liu Bian's sigh even more somber.

"Marquis of Duyou Pavilion." Liu Bian's gaze swept indifferently over the untouched, exquisite food on the table before he finally spoke. His voice was exceptionally clear in the silent prison cell, yet it carried an undisguised sense of detachment and coldness. He said, "It seems you are living a more peaceful life here than I originally expected."

(3053 words)
(End of this chapter)