In the first year of Xuanhe, the sky in Yuncheng County seemed to have been splashed with ink, and there was no clear moon for a continuous period. The death row in the backyard of the county government office had an even more musty smell, and the moss under the walls was black. Song Jiang huddled in a pile of straw, and his prison uniform had been soaked with sweat and had map-like marks. This was the third time that he touched his waist - the string of copper coins that were often used to spread wealth should have been hanging there, but now there was only a hole left. When the wind blew, it seemed to sigh for him.
"Black Saburo, stop touching. You won't be able to find any silver again." The voice of jailer Li Si came from outside the cell door. The man had a fake smile on his face, but there were only a few grains of oil floating on the brown rice in his hand. "The county magistrate said that your case of killing Yan Poxi has been reported to Jeju Prefecture. He will be arrested in a few days. You can take care of yourself."
Song Jiang raised his head, his usually friendly face now wrinkled into a walnut. He knew very well that Yan Poxi not only took his letter to Liangshan, but also dared to ask for a hundred taels of silver. He accidentally killed someone. He wanted to rely on the reputation of "timely rain" that he had accumulated in Yuncheng to smooth things over. Unexpectedly, Yan Poxi's relatives directly sued Jeju, which really stirred up a hornet's nest.
