Two hours later, the sky was gradually darkening, and an old slave in servile sermons came over. Tianlang knew that the Mongols had no concept of servants from the Han people. Most of the attacks and killings among tribes would plunder the captured prisoners as slaves. The person in front of him had wrinkles on his face, just like those gullies on the Loess Plateau. His steps were heavy, and he walked over with a large wooden barrel with difficulty.

The old slave was thin and coughing while walking, as if he had tuberculosis. Tianlang suddenly felt a little pitiful to the prisoners in the prison because he saw the little bloody phlegm that the old slave had just coughed up and fell into the bucket of rice that was a stinky smell ten feet away.

A shock flashed in Habuli's eyes, and he regained his composure in an instant. He said to the old slave in a big way: "Old Zhang, why did you come so late today? The patrol brothers all finished eating more than half an hour ago!"

Old Zhang opened his mouth in anger, with only half of his front teeth left, and his speech was leaking: "Old Ha, you don't know that the jail rice is leftover and rotten soup from the previous few days in the kitchen. Of course, we have to let our people finish it before these prisoners can eat it. Some things in the kitchen have been delayed for a while, and it's only done now. If you think it's slow, you can pick up the jail rice by yourself in the future."

While cursing, Habuli picked up the key at his waist and opened the iron gate. Tianlang looked at the old Zhang head coldly, especially his thin hands, which always made Tianlang feel something was wrong.

With a creaking sound, the door opened, and a musty smell mixed with the stench of feces and urine came to his nose. Tianlang couldn't help but frowned. Habuli pinched his nose and said to Lao Zhang's head: "Get in quickly. After feeding these pigs early, we can go to have a meal."

Habuli said, walking in front of him alone. When he passed by Tianlang, Tianlang understood it. After the old Zhang also entered, he flashed into the prison and closed the prison door.

A narrow passage, the musty and foul-smelling storm that came from nowhere, causing the coldness of the body to make people feel chilled. A torch was inserted across the stone walls on both sides through more than ten steps. The flames were blown in the cold wind, making the light in the passage also sometimes strong and sometimes weak. The moans and screams of the prisoners in the prison made people feel like they were in the Avici Hell.

There was no jailer in the prison. The railings on both sides were made of fine iron as thick as human arms. They stretched out their hands from the gap between the railings, like lonely ghosts in the underworld, trying their best to catch everyone passing by in front of them.

Old Zhang suddenly turned around and looked at Tianlang, coughed twice, and said, "Tuerha, what's wrong with you today? It seems like you're here on the first day. Isn't you always taking the initiative to help you carry the bucket?"

Tianlang's human skin mask had no expression, and his eyes were as cold as the voice: "Why should I carry a bucket?"

Old Zhang was stunned at first, then threw the rice bucket heavily on the ground, and a wooden spoon stuck between his waist also fell into it. The yellow and green vegetable soup splashed all over Tianlang: "What's the fucking thing about you today? Are you throwing your soul in the casino again?"

Habuli, who was walking in the front, quickly picked up the bucket first, stirred the spoon in the soup bucket, and then grabbed Lao Zhang's head with a smile: "Don't calm down, he lost a lot in the casino today, and he is still regretting it now. Don't take it seriously if you have a temper."

Lao Zhang shook his head and walked past Habuli cursingly. Tianlang's eyes looked like torches. He found that in the corner of the door, there were piles of broken bowls, and a dirty iron spoon was lying weakly in the ashes. I think he used to carry the bucket himself, and Lao Zhang was responsible for getting food for the prisoners.

Tianlang whispered to Habuli: "Aren't you just a servant who delivers food? Why are you so angry?"

Habuli smiled bitterly and said, "This guy also gave us our meal. You also saw him look like he spitting phlegm and coughing blood into your dishes. I don't have to eat."

Old Zhang trembled and picked up a bunch of broken bowls that made people want to vomit after seeing them. The iron spoon was hung on his waist again. He turned his head, and his turbid eyes seemed to be covered with dust: "Go away quickly, do you like to be stunned here?"

Tianlang picked up the wooden barrel. The smell of sourness made his stomach feel sore. When he saw that the wooden spoon was still in the barrel was like a stir-frying stick. This familiar smell actually evoked his memories of the past. He sighed in his heart: As expected, the prison rice in the world is the most unpalatable. By the way, he stepped aside and followed Lao Zhang's head.

As he walked along the way, no matter whether his hands were stretched out outside the railing or not, Lao Zhang mechanically picked up the broken bowl, put a spoonful of them in the wooden barrel, and then stuffed them into a small hole under the railing.

Tianlang walked along the way and saw that there were many people here, including monks, Taoists, olds and young people, and strange-shaped ones. The only thing in common is that except for men, these people are all children of the family, but their bodies are all nailed to the air holes by bone-transparent nails and soul-lifting needles, which makes it impossible to transport internal breath to break the shackles and chains on their bodies.

Speeched all the way, after turning two bends, Tianlang's eyes suddenly lit up. This was the end of the dungeon. Here, four masked men in white clothes stood here like ghosts. Behind the four people was a thick iron door, with no breathable holes on the door, which exuded a gloomy horror.

Tianlang quickly estimated the strength of these four people. Although they had no external energy and seemed to have stopped breathing, the occasional flash of cold light in their eyes and the smooth internal energy flowing in their bodies clearly showed that these four people had opened up at least 196 acupoints of Xiao Zhoutian and nine meridians.

The leader of the four looked at the three of them coldly, without saying a word, and went to the side. Habuli and Lao Zhang, who were walking in front, turned the corner, were like mice seeing a cat. They didn't dare to breathe in, and they lowered their heads and walked in.

Tianlang didn't dare to be careless. He put away all the aura on his body and followed the two of them in a similar way. When he passed by the four, he swept the four people out of the corner of his eyes, almost exactly the same height. Each had a scimitar on his waist, and it was obvious that two of them were left-handed.

The three of them walked to the iron gate, and the door suddenly shook and closed up with a "klala". It turned out that this was a large iron gate weighing thousands of kilograms and four or five feet wide. The cell was the deepest part of a natural cave. Tianlang could feel it through the breath behind him. The four men in white just now pulled a ring-shaped mechanism at the same time, and the iron gate would only be opened with the joint efforts of the four people.
Chapter completed!