"Squeak——"
The heavy iron door slowly closed behind him, letting out a dull sigh, like an old giant beast finally closing its mouth.
Lu Jingshen stood outside the prison gate and narrowed his eyes.
The sunlight stung his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he saw such unobstructed sunlight - the sky in the prison was always cut into countless small pieces by the barbed wire, like torn pieces of gray-blue cloth, unable to form a complete shape.
He was wearing an old shirt that had been washed white and was handed to him by the guard when he was released from prison - the same shirt he wore when he was imprisoned ten years ago, but his family never came to collect it. The fabric was as hard as sandpaper, a button on the collar was missing, and the cuffs were frayed. The pants were half an inch too short, revealing a winding scar on the ankle, which was scratched by a machine in the sewing workshop the year I first entered.
