In ancient times, the powerful and wealthy seized power step by step.

In the Imperial Guard prison, at midnight, Zhang Shen suddenly woke up.

Conditions in the imperial prison were already terrible, and he was tortured when he first entered. His new injuries were not properly treated, which triggered his old ailments. The chain reaction compounded, causing him to feel dizzy and confused these past few days, spending more time sleeping than waking up.

The damp environment caused his body to rot, and the dim environment made him depressed. He couldn't even remember how long he had been inside, nor could he tell whether it was day or night.

Zhang Shen stared blankly at the dark ceiling with his eyes wide open, when he suddenly noticed something was wrong.

He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but the straw beneath him seemed much softer and thicker than it had been a few days before.

Zhang Shen reached out and touched it. It wasn't his imagination; the straw under his hand was dry, unlike when it first came in, which looked as if it had been soaked in water.

Moreover, the straw was laid almost as thick as a hand's width, instead of being sparse and perfunctory as before.

Not only was the straw changed, but there was also a wound on his leg, a severe one, from being whipped. Because there was no medicine or treatment, it had become inflamed, causing both pain and itching. Every time he woke up, it tormented him in agony. But when he woke up today, he could clearly feel that the wound had been treated.

Zhang Shen sat up abruptly, and by the dim light of the oil lamp on the wall, rolled up his trouser leg and touched the gauze bandage on his wound.

As he examined the wound, a piece of undergarment emerged from the sleeve of the ill-fitting prison uniform.

The clothes he was wearing when he came in were already torn at the sleeves because he had been whipped.

But what was sticking out from under the prison uniform was a clean, snow-white, and undamaged sleeve of an inner garment.

It looks brand new.

Zhang Shen could hardly believe it, and almost trembled as he touched the stitches on his sleeve.

After touching the left sleeve, he touched the right sleeve, and even lifted up his prison uniform to look at the undergarments he was wearing, before he was finally certain.

The clothes were made by Qingyu.

It was Qingyu who came to save him.

At this moment, Zhang Shen leaned against the cold wall of the prison cell, feeling a mix of wanting to laugh and wanting to cry.

During his time in the imperial prison, even while being tortured, the pampered young master Zhang Shen had never cried. But now, touching the sleeve of his inner garment, he couldn't help but shed tears.

The fact that she came to bring him clothes means she's alright, and Ruohua is alright too. That's wonderful.

There was a kettle and a bowl with steamed buns in it placed at the entrance of the prison cell.

Zhang Shen has barely eaten anything these past few days. Even when he woke up, his stomach was burning with hunger, but he didn't touch the food in the prison.

From childhood to adulthood, he had never drunk rotten water or eaten spoiled wheat bran buns. Even when he was starving, he couldn't bring himself to eat.

He might as well just die. When his consciousness is blurred and his will is weak, he might think, "I'll die someday anyway, so a short pain is worse than a long one."

But because he was worried about Qingyu and his sister, even in this pain, Zhang Shen couldn't let go of his worries and couldn't bear to die.

But now, Zhang Shen suddenly got up and went to the door to get the kettle and steamed buns.

Qingyu came to find him; he couldn't die.

This time, when he drank fresh, clean water from the kettle and ate clean, white steamed buns, Zhang Shen couldn't help but smile again.

Yes, if she could think of a way to send him clothes, how could she not think of a way to let him eat clean food?

The jailers guarding Zhang Shen have been paying extra attention to his movements these past few days. After all, although there are many prisoners in the imperial prison, it is rare to see someone as generous as this wealthy man from the Zhang family who spends money so lavishly.

The Imperial Guards wouldn't keep all the money they received as a thank-you gift from Zhu Qingyu. Everyone on the same boat who might be connected to Zhang Shen got a share.

Not distributing the money won't work; if we don't distribute the money, anyone could run into trouble.

The jailer received a full twenty taels of silver, almost two years' salary.

This is truly a god of wealth! He can shower money upon us; we must worship him well and not let him die.

Seeing that Zhang Shen was awake, the jailer came over to check on him and asked:

"Is that enough to eat? There's more if you need more, but you can't eat too much. If you've been hungry for too long, eating too much will make you sick."

The prison guards didn't even feed Zhang Shen the prisoners' food; it was their own food. The old man in charge of cooking also received a share of the money. He would add extra noodles to each meal, making a few more white steamed buns for the God of Wealth so that he would have something to eat when he woke up, lest the God of Wealth starve to death.

Zhang Shen was starving, but he still maintained his long-standing manners, not wolfing down his food, and asked with good table manners:

"Excuse me, sir, do you have paper and pen?"

The jailer dared to give Zhang Shen white flour buns because food is something that can be eaten and then gone, and there was no evidence. His clothes were worn under his prison uniform, so no one could see them, and they were not conspicuous. But the jailer did not dare to make decisions about conspicuous things like paper and pens.

So the report was passed up the chain of command, and the next day it reached Shen Xu.

Shen Xu, having personally experienced the imperial prison, immediately understood what was going on. He glanced sideways and asked his subordinate:

"Did his family send him something? If he needs paper and pens, then give them to him. Why is it that his family only sends things but doesn't come in?"

The subordinate smiled ingratiatingly and made a gesture:

"They want to come in, but wouldn't it be better if the magistrate granted them this favor? Their family has given us this amount as a token of their respect, begging for your mercy so that the couple can meet."

Shen Xu sneered:

"She's willing to spend money. Since she wants to come, let her come. Tell her to bring what she wants to bring at noon on her day off, and give her three-quarters of an hour to do whatever she wants."

It was rare for Lord Shen to be so agreeable today. Seeing that another large sum of money was about to be in his hands, the official left happily.

Shen Xu, however, went to the imperial prison with a livid face. He watched from afar as Zhang Shen was writing something earnestly at a small table, and almost cursed him out loud.

Seeing that Lord Shen looked unwell, the jailer assumed that he had been caught giving Zhang Shen something without permission, and cautiously approached him.

"grown ups."

Shen Xu asked in a deep voice:

"What is he writing?"

Although he knew the answer, Shen Xu still couldn't help but curse aloud when the jailer replied that it was a divorce agreement:

"idiot!"

It's unclear whether he's cursing Zhang Shen, who's writing the divorce papers now, or himself, who wrote the annulment papers in prison years ago.

What is Zhang Jingyan feeling right now? Is he like himself back then, resigned to certain death but still thinking of sparing the other person's life?

So stupid.

After Shen Xu was released from the imperial prison, he returned to his office, wrote a short letter, and had someone deliver it to Gu Zhao.

The letter invited Gu Zhaoxiu to come to the Embroidered Uniform Guard headquarters on his day off to watch a good show.

A dramatic scene unfolds, depicting the murder of her husband.