Chapter 116: Zhou Qi and the Others, Released from Prison!

A grand memorial ceremony was held in the city of Urumqi. Tens of thousands of people from all over the country gathered, braving the bitter cold of over ten degrees below zero, waiting in line to pay their respects. Qin Yang and his companions changed into ordinary clothes to blend in with the crowd. They were not permitted to attend the memorial officially, but since the deceased were comrades who had fought side by side, with Wei Boyang’s tacit approval, the group collectively avoided the hotel guards. Of course, the guards themselves, for various reasons, turned a blind eye.

Leading the procession was the honor guard, followed by Shen Haoyun and his troops, clad in solemn military uniforms and pristine white gloves. Rows of coffins were carefully carried off the vehicles. After consulting with the families, it was agreed the bodies would be laid to rest at the Border Martyrs' Cemetery. Qin Yang chose not to absorb the spirits of these fallen comrades; he believed they should remain guarding their own bodies or be with their families.

Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion—mourning music, grief, rifle salutes—all within the bounds of tradition.

Thirty-two hostages accompanied the families, some collapsing to their knees in agony. They had witnessed the sacrifice of the martyrs with their own eyes, a torment beyond words.

The crowd was reluctant to disperse, but word came through. One by one, people stepped out from the throng, turned, saluted the troops, and left. Not far away, Wei Boyang’s car awaited. Next, they would board the vehicle and return to Xining Prison—the Black Prison—a place that had become like home. Upon entering, they were greeted by the fragrant aromas from the kitchen and the laughter of their brothers within.

Champagne was uncorked in celebration, and a huge cake was brought out. The group played and laughed like children, reveling in the moment.

The Black Prison was alive with festivity.

When the celebration quieted, Wei Boyang entered and gestured for silence. Everyone knew what was coming: the true reward for the War God Squad. They cared little for medals or honors; what mattered was the final decision. Wei Boyang’s face bore a pleased expression as he announced, “Because of the outstanding completion of this mission, the twelve members of the War God Squad—Zhou Qi, Cheng Mu, Dong Fanghao... and finally, Chen Yao—are released from prison!”

“Impossible!” Chen Yao shouted. “I didn’t participate in the operation. Why is my name on the list? It should be Qin Yang.”

All eyes turned to Qin Yang, expecting an answer. He chuckled, took a sip of wine, and stood up. “I’m still young; I’ll have plenty of chances to go out. But you, Chen Yao, you’re the oldest here and have family waiting for you. It’s time you went out and saw them.”

“Qin Yang, you’re joking. Because you’re young, you should be the one going out!” Chen Yao shouted in frustration.

Qin Yang shook his head. “After the operation began, I asked Wei Boyang to swap my name for yours, and it passed smoothly through military approval. It’s too late to change now. Brother Chen Yao, go. Your family’s been waiting and doesn’t believe you’re dead.”

“No, it can’t be like this. You’re young, you—you can’t do this.” Chen Yao spoke with pain.

Qin Yang smiled and stepped close, lowering his voice. “In twenty-three days, not just me, but all brothers in the Black Prison will be released. You know the plan; I’ll fight for it. Have you forgotten I’m a divine healer? We’ve prepared thoroughly from previous battles. Everything will erupt after twenty-three days, and the chances of everyone getting out will increase without limit. Then you can look forward to treating us to a meal, ha ha.”

Chen Yao could only nod painfully, tears streaming down his face.

Qin Yang took a couple of steps and loudly proclaimed, “Chen Yao is the oldest and most respected brother here. I, Qin Yang, did not give the spot to anyone else. Don’t blame me; he’s the one who should go out now.”

Everyone shared a knowing smile.

Wei Boyang sighed. “Pack up. Tomorrow morning at dawn, you’re out of prison. This is your last night in the Black Prison. Spend it well. Talk with everyone.”

At those words, silence fell.

Years of shared hardship had forged unbreakable bonds among them. Chen Yao, Zhou Qi, and the others quietly returned to their rooms to prepare their belongings. Qin Yang sighed and returned to his room to intensively refine some medicinal herbs. Wei Xiaoran understood his intent and busied herself assisting. Soon, Wei Boyang sent over festive decorations—colored lights, banners, and the like. They hadn’t decorated so elaborately even during New Year’s; such festivals held little meaning for them, apart from better food. Qin Yang had noticed that the Spring Festival had passed silently just days after his arrival.

The kitchen staff hurried to prepare a grand feast.

A massive cake was even made.

This was a day worth remembering: finally, someone was leaving the Black Prison. Perhaps Zhou Qi and the others would face inspections and surveillance after their release, but none of that mattered. Freedom to live was the greatest joy.

Qin Yang carefully packed some herbs into a bag, labeled with Zhou Qi’s name, which Wei Xiaoran took. While organizing other herbs nearby, she asked, “Qin Yang, why aren’t you going out?”

“Me? I’ll wait a few more days,” Qin Yang replied, carefully controlling the fire. “There will be plenty of chances later. It doesn’t matter to me if I wait a bit. Besides, if I leave, who will keep you company here?”

“You’re so full of yourself,” Xiaoran shot him a glare, grumbling as she snipped herbs. “You’re just stubborn.”

The herbs were all packed. The kitchen was festively decorated, with the enormous cake at the center and lanterns everywhere. Delicious dishes kept arriving, while bottles of fine wine were set on the tables. Qin Yang carried the herb bag to Zhou Qi’s room, handing it over. “Change this every three days after you’re out. These herbs will help you recover.”

“Thanks. I’ll be waiting for you outside,” Zhou Qi said confidently, knowing Qin Yang would be released soon.

Qin Yang smiled and handed him an envelope. “This is a letter I wrote. If you have trouble finding work, bring this to any branch or headquarters of the Hailong Group. If you want to go overseas, that’s fine too. Take it.”

He gave similar envelopes and herbs to the others.

They were deeply moved, silently thanking him. Finding a job was indeed a challenge for them; they had only learned to kill. They couldn’t just turn to illegal trades. With Qin Yang’s help, life wouldn’t be so difficult.

After distributing everything, Qin Yang stretched.

Wei Xiaoran complained, “So you really are the heir of the Hailong Group. I should have drained your bank card long ago. Now there’s no chance to fight the rich and help the poor.”

“You’re silly. The bank card is still with you,” Qin Yang rolled his eyes playfully. “If you want to spend my money, I’ll be at your beck and call forever. How about that?”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Xiaoran huffed.

That evening’s farewell was lively. Everyone drank themselves into a stupor, even falling asleep right there in the kitchen. Qin Yang was no exception; he drank the most. Since his arrival, good news had kept coming to the Black Prison. They all saw Qin Yang as a lucky star. Especially Chen Yao, who drank three big bowls with him, leaving Qin Yang’s stomach churning painfully and nearly embarrassing him on the spot.

When he awoke groggily in the early morning, it was just past four o’clock.

Rubbing his head, he heard stealthy noises outside. Cautiously stepping out, he saw Dong Fanghao and others carrying bags from their rooms. They saw Qin Yang at the doorway and smiled wryly. Zhou Qi whispered, “We didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Let’s go. I’ll see you off,” Qin Yang nodded, careful not to disturb anyone’s rest. Together, they left the Black Prison and stood at the gates of Xining Prison, feeling the sharp cold wind blowing.

Qin Yang took a deep breath, feeling much refreshed. Wei Boyang had made all preparations. Two military vehicles would separately take them to the train station.

Suddenly, Qin Yang remembered something. He pulled out twelve red envelopes from his pocket and handed one to each person. “This is the money I had Xiaoran withdraw yesterday. You guys have nothing; they’ll at most buy you a train or bus ticket, and you won’t even have proper food on the road. Take this, and buy some local specialties for your families.”

They knew Qin Yang had money and accepted the envelopes without hesitation.

“Old Qin, I’m waiting for you to drink with me,” Cheng Mu patted Qin Yang’s shoulder. “Don’t forget your word—keep your promises.”

Qin Yang smiled. “Of course.”