Chapter Ninety-Eight: Seeking Help

"Damn it, I’m done playing."
Qin Yang slammed the mouse down in frustration. Hearing the lewd chuckling of those around him, he shot them a glare, instantly silencing their laughter.
This was already his eightieth defeat in CS. These damned maniacs were on another level—not only were their shots precise, but they could pinpoint his hiding place with uncanny accuracy. Outmatched in every way, Qin Yang was utterly crushed, leaving the others, who had suffered at his hands before, finally able to regain some confidence.
If he relied on his ability to glimpse their screens with his Yin-Yang Eyes, he could manage to kill a few, but even then, they would identify his location at the same moment. With his poor marksmanship, he met an especially miserable end.
Who would have thought, the legendary Black Prison Team, rumored to be unbeatable on the CS official website, turned out to be this bunch of beasts.
"Cut it out, what are you laughing at? Healed up, have you?" Qin Yang grumbled.
Sitting nearby, Xiao Ran, who was watching a movie, handed him a bottle of mineral water. "It’s no surprise you can’t beat them. They’re all trained professionals. How could you compete? Never mind, I’ll make you a good meal later."
"Will we get any?" Zhao Wu and the others asked in low voices.
"No," Xiao Ran answered, utterly unloyal.
Qin Yang took a sip of water, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag. Shutting down the game, he opened a web page, scanning domestic news. Every piece of communication here was under strict surveillance. Every word exchanged with other players went through deep system analysis; not even a coded phrase could slip through to expose the Black Prison’s existence.
Seeing domestic news still pinned to the top—the story of General Jiang’s grave illness and coma, pushing aside all the ‘New Year, new outlook’ slogans—Qin Yang curled his lips in a cold smile.
"Qin Yang, do you think you could cure him?" Xiao Ran whispered.
Qin Yang laughed, "Do you know how I ended up in here?"
Xiao Ran shook her head.
"Jiang Nan Yan, General Jiang’s grandson, stubbornly believed I stole the heart of the woman he loves. So he did everything he could to ruin me, and before General Jiang fell into a coma, he personally opened the express lane to Black Prison for me." Qin Yang sneered. "During my arrest, my adoptive mother died at their hands trying to save me."
His expression twisted with rage. The image of Wang Yue’s last smile, as she died in his arms, gnawed at him. The agony was so profound, so searing, he would never forget it. Xiao Ran, terrified, saw him trembling violently; in his strange, dark gemstone eyes, a swirling black mist seemed to churn.
"Xiao Ran, step away."
Zhao Wu jumped, rushing over to grip Qin Yang’s shoulders, shouting, "Qin Yang, it’s all over now."
"Qin Yang, wake up." The eldest, Chen Yao, stepped in, commanding, "We understand your pain, but you can’t let it control you. If you do, you’re no longer yourself."
Qin Yang took a deep breath, leaned back in his chair, gasping, "A mother’s murder demands vengeance."
"It’s alright, Qin Yang, it’s alright," Xiao Ran softly murmured, hugging his head from behind. "It’s all in the past, let it go. There will be no more hatred here. You will live well, you’ll be fine."
"Yes, you still have us, your old brothers," Chen Yao added.
Qin Yang nodded quietly, inhaling Xiao Ran’s fragrance, murmuring contentedly, "You smell wonderful."
"Get lost," Xiao Ran realized the intimacy of her gesture, quickly pushed his head away, and scolded him playfully.
The others burst into laughter.
"Alright, I’ll stop teasing you," Qin Yang said, smiling.
They were still bantering when Wei Boyang walked in from outside, saying, "Qin Yang, someone wants to see you."
"I’m coming," Qin Yang replied with a cold laugh, said a few words to the group, and followed Wei Boyang out. On the way, Wei Boyang whispered, "Qin Yang, you’re still young. This place isn’t your destiny. I’ve done all I can; the rest is up to you. Remember, outside is where your talents belong—not here."
"Thank you."
Qin Yang nodded.
Wei Boyang led him through several layers of defense to a small compartment. The room was simply furnished: a table, two chairs, a camera in the corner, and armed soldiers guarding the door. Each soldier nodded to Qin Yang—they’d received his medical help for stubborn ailments and were deeply grateful.
Entering, Qin Yang found Old Han seated inside.
"Well, what brings you here?" Qin Yang closed the door, flopped into a chair, and said, "Looking for a scolding?"
"Qin Yang, I’m not here to joke. You know about General Jiang’s situation," Old Han said urgently. "Come with me to the capital now. If you can cure him, I’ll do my utmost to get you out of Black Prison."
"Wait a minute," Qin Yang laughed. "A chance to leave Black Prison? My, how generous you are."
"What do you actually want?" Knowing Qin Yang’s temperament, Old Han asked bluntly.
"In two words: get lost." Qin Yang stood, opened the door, and walked out. Wei Boyang and the soldiers exchanged puzzled glances; Old Han was dumbfounded. He knew Jiang Nan Yan was finished. Qin Yang’s reaction didn’t mean he’d decided not to help, but clearly he regarded the ‘chance to leave Black Prison’ as a worthless bargaining chip. He’d save the family protector, and they’d merely ‘consider’ letting him go? Ridiculous.
"Qin Yang, this isn’t the time for stubbornness. Don’t you realize refusing to help could mean facing death at any moment?" Old Han shouted after him.
Qin Yang turned, his voice icy. "Old Han, don’t act like a fool here. Want to kill me? If you could, you’d have done it long ago. Who the hell do you think you are? If it weren’t for you being Han Dongxue’s grandfather, I’d have crippled you just now. Playing dumb—if you’re not being a fool, what are you doing? As for getting out, I can tell you right now, in front of Wei Boyang: give me a few years, Black Prison won’t hold me."
"Qin Yang, can’t you think about yourself for once? Continuing like this will do you no good," Old Han protested.
Qin Yang laughed heartily. "Are you stupid or am I? General Jiang is the guardian of the Jiang clan. If he dies, what storm can Jiang Nan Yan stir up? He’ll be crushed sooner or later. Seeing my enemy end up like that—it’s a joy, a delight."
Old Han’s defeat was only natural.
Meanwhile, in Hai Tian City, inside the office of Hai Long Jewelry Company, Liu Yan sipped her sweetened coffee, continuing to organize recent company reports, though she clearly couldn’t focus all her energy on work.
"Could Grandpa Hong really have been wrong?" Liu Yan sighed softly, setting aside the file, thinking to herself, "Qin Yang certainly has exceptional qualities, but he’s vastly different from so many others. His recent experiences are so far from what Grandpa Hong described. Is he really the man destined for me?"
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound of knocking came; Liu Yan composed herself and called, "Come in."
"Miss, Jiang Nan Yan wishes to see you," Xiao Yi said cautiously.
"Let him in," Liu Yan nodded.
Jiang Nan Yan was troubled—so troubled he felt miserable and stifled. He’d sent his rival to the darkest prison, only to find that rival had become the Jiang family’s lifeline. The dramatic reversal was hard to accept. Yet after Old Han examined the ointment brought by Wei Boyang, he concluded Qin Yang could cure his grandfather, and Jiang Nan Yan had no choice but to face this tragic reality.
To ask Qin Yang personally?
He couldn’t bring himself to do it, couldn’t swallow his pride. Most importantly, if he went, he’d probably just be mocked and ridiculed. So he traveled from Xining to Hai Tian City, hoping Liu Yan could help.
"If you’ve come to boast about sending my fiancé to the darkest prison, you’re in the wrong place," Liu Yan said coolly. "I agreed to see you only to hear what ridiculous words you’d say."
"Liu Yan, is he really that important to you?" Jiang Nan Yan asked, anger in his face, his expression contorted.
Liu Yan glanced at him. "Does his importance have anything to do with you?"
"I can’t imagine that twenty years of childhood friendship between us means less than that useless man," Jiang Nan Yan said bitterly.
Liu Yan sneered. "Is that all you came to say?"
"There’s something I need your help with—it concerns my grandfather’s life." Jiang Nan Yan took a deep breath, speaking solemnly. "Liu Yan, I hope you can put aside your prejudices and truly help my grandfather through this crisis."
"What is it? Go ahead," Liu Yan said. "Grandpa Jiang has always been kind to me; helping him is only natural."
"I don’t know how many people in the world could save my grandfather, but we have reliable information that one person can," Jiang Nan Yan said, searching for any opening in Liu Yan’s expression, but she remained cold and indifferent.
His words piqued Liu Yan’s interest. "Oh? Who can save him? Grandpa Han’s medical skill is legendary, and even he backed away. There’s really someone who can cure Grandpa Jiang?"
"One person: Qin Yang." When Jiang Nan Yan uttered the name, it seemed to drain all his strength.
Liu Yan’s lips finally curled into a faint smile. "How can you be sure it’s him?"
"Every prisoner in Black Prison who suffered wounds in war—including Wei Boyang’s spinal injury—was treated by Qin Yang alone. Old Han studied the ointment Qin Yang made and is certain it will greatly help my grandfather’s illness," Jiang Nan Yan said bitterly. "If I went to ask Qin Yang personally to leave prison and treat him, I’d probably get nothing."