Chapter 21: The Dungeon Uprising

When first deceived and thrown into the dungeon, Xue Yan was not particularly panicked. As a scion of Chang'an nobility, destined to become a pillar of the imperial court governing provinces and prefectures, he felt no fear toward these monks. He plotted numerous schemes in his mind, waiting for the right moment to break out of Anguo Temple and show his parents and uncles that he was already twelve years old—no longer a child.

When he first learned the monks intended to starve them, Xue Yan felt a sense of disdain. Aside from being punished by his parents for mischief as a young boy, he had never truly experienced hunger. He assumed that, at worst, it would merely be a craving; he was a twelve-year-old man, and he could certainly endure such a trivial appetite.

But after more than a day without food, his mind was consumed by memories of fine cuisine.

At first, the hunger grew until he could barely stand it, reaching the point where he wanted to bite his own fingers.

Slowly, just as Xue Yan felt he might be getting used to the hunger, the warrior monks would eat outside the cell. Forget about biting into a chicken leg; even the crisp sound of them eating a single peanut, the melody of the nut crunching between their teeth, would trigger countless memories in Xue Yan’s mind of his own past joys in eating peanuts. This desperate hunger was like a small knife, slicing his soul over and over again.

In such moments, he could only force himself to listen to the prattle of the young girl from the neighboring cell.

Among this group of Chang'an second-generation elites who loved to flaunt their family status, this girl was undoubtedly the type with a better memory. Xue Yan not only knew she was the third daughter of the Yang family but also knew who her grandfather was, her father, her uncles, how many relatives she had, and what official positions they held. In the end, not only was Xue Yan hungry, but he was also forced to learn the family intelligence of this Miss Yang—he didn't even know his own family that well!

In his daze, Xue Yan would occasionally recall the gaunt, skeletal corpses he had seen outside Chang'an, the starving masses fighting for porridge during his family’s charity distributions, the children on the roadside with straw tags for sale, the kneeling men, the women selling themselves...

He had never understood nor cared to understand the suffering of these lower-class people. He felt they were like weeds, thriving when the weather was fair and withering when the storms came. If the weeds withered, so be it—who would feel sad for the decay of weeds? They would grow again next year anyway; the earth was never short of weeds.

It was only when he lay in this filthy, stench-filled dungeon that he realized he was no more noble than those weeds.

He would bow like a weed, sell himself like a weed, and eventually, wither like a weed.

The world has abandoned me, and the laws of heaven have forsaken me.

If the roles were ever reversed, I would make them know the meaning of cruelty!

Just as this twelve-year-old boy thought he had grasped the reality of the world, a pair of twin brothers descended from above, crashing into the dungeon and interrupting his brewing descent into darkness.

Although these brothers had managed to trick the monk Benzhi—the lackey of the Ciji Institute—into the cell with them, Xue Yan still thought they were incredibly foolish.

Knowing this was a trap, why come in at all?

Even if reporting to the authorities might not work, if An Liu could stir up enough trouble, he might have forced Anguo Temple to release their group.

Not to mention, they actually wanted to block the cell door to starve Benzhi to death—even if they succeeded, and Benzhi truly starved, what would it accomplish? Would they not still be trapped here?

If one person is doomed, is it worth it for two people plus an enemy to be doomed as well? No matter how Xue Yan thought about it, he felt An Liu should have abandoned An Wu instead of coming here to live and die together.

Do these commoners hold their own lives in such low regard?

Furthermore, by blocking the cell door, An Wu and An Liu had offended not only the bald donkeys of Anguo Temple but also the people within the cell.

Not everyone was so resilient; even Xue Yan himself had given up. Before An Wu and An Liu arrived, some had already begged the warrior monks for food, willing to be obedient. But Anguo Temple seemed to have a set procedure: they had to starve people for a certain number of days before proceeding to the next step.

After An Wu and An Liu blocked the door, not only could Benzhi not get out, but the victims trapped inside could not get out either. After a day, when the warrior monks saw that An Wu and An Liu refused to sleep even to keep the door blocked, they ate fine food and wine outside the cell, telling the starving prisoners that they were going to die of hunger because of An Wu and An Liu.

The tactic was highly effective. Although Xue Yan remained silent, others began to complain about An Wu and An Liu.

Seeing no response from them, complaints turned into insults, and insults led to malice. In the end, they felt that their hunger was entirely the fault of An Wu and An Liu, cursing them to move aside and stop blocking the door. In that moment, the victimizers and the victims stood united against a common enemy.

Yet, An Wu and An Liu still did not respond.

Xue Yan longed to know what they were feeling. Emotionally, they had tricked Benzhi into the cell, which was a small measure of revenge for Xue Yan and the others; logically, by blocking the door, they were actually protecting the group from being taken away by the warrior monks.

Yet, no one was grateful. Everyone resented them for causing trouble.

Outside the cell was the mockery and abuse of the enemy; inside the cell was the cursing and malice of their own kind.

But they stood like two reefs, silently enduring the waves of malice.

Let the winds and waves roar; they remained unmoved.

The way Xue Yan looked at them changed from initial disdain to a curiosity he could not fathom.

What were they holding onto?

What were they waiting for?

What, in the end, were they?

By the third day, everyone was exhausted, waiting for the moment An Wu and An Liu would collapse. Everyone knew that moment would not be long—three days without food, water, or sleep would break even a professional messenger.

Xue Yan lay on the filthy straw, having not eaten for six days and surviving only on water. Now, even remaining conscious was a luxury.

I am going to die, Xue Yan thought.

That is fine, too. He could die with his honor intact, without besmirching the name of the Xue family.

In the next life... I hope to live in a world where no one starves to death...

In a daze, he saw someone walk up to him and force a pill mixed with water into his mouth. The pill melted upon contact; it had a heavy medicinal scent but was not bitter.

Thump.

His heart began to beat powerfully.

The hunger in his stomach rapidly subsided, his listless mind grew clear, and even his body, which had not seen food for days, began to regain strength at an unimaginable speed!

Xue Yan opened his eyes and scrambled up, seeing An Liu feeding the pill to the others lying on the ground. Those who took the medicine climbed up one by one; though their bodies remained gaunt and their faces pale, their vitality was visibly returning!

"I'm not hungry anymore! I'm not hungry!"

"Give me another one, I feel so much better after eating it!"

"What kind of miraculous medicine is this?"

"Blood-Replenishing Pill!" Compared to the ignorant crowd, the well-informed Xue Yan spoke the truth: "This is a celestial pill produced only in secret realms. How could you possibly have so many!"

The commotion in the cell naturally caught the attention of the warrior monks. Seeing the starving people climbing up one after another and hearing Xue Yan’s words, they realized something was wrong. They prepared to split up, with one watching the cell while the other went to notify the others.

And just then—

Whoosh.

With a sound of breath as vast as a long river, the muscles on An Wu’s body suddenly surged, and veins popped out. Although he still appeared to be a thin, young boy on the outside, his robust blood energy was enough to make anyone unable to ignore his presence!

Any messenger would surely recognize what change had occurred in An Wu!

"You actually changed your class!?" the warrior monk said in disbelief. "In this place, at this time, how is it possible—"

Clang!

A white-iron straight blade suddenly appeared in An Wu’s hand. He swung it, unleashing two crescent-moon blades of light that instantly shattered the iron bars of the cell!