The Cultivator's Reborn to 1970s -
Chapter 63 - 338 Yuwei’s spin-off
Chapter 63: 338 Yuwei’s spin-off
I don’t know how I ended up in this place. Prison life is unbearable; every woman here is a freak. They don’t like me, and all the dirty, tiring work is left to me alone.
I don’t know how they found out that she’s a bad woman. It was only after that when I truly understood what hell means – actual hell.
At night, while I sleep, suddenly someone stands by my bed, staring at me wordlessly with a cold gaze, scaring me to the bone.
What’s worse, I often get beaten for no reason, several times to the point of vomiting blood, and I’m not even allowed to report it to the authorities. If I do, the next beating is even more severe.
Despite being injured, I still have to wash the clothes of an entire cell and clean the toilets. If I don’t comply, they beat me until I submit.
In the winter, they strip me of my clothes and make me stand under the cold water until I’m chillingly soaked. A few times I’ve had high fevers and thought I might be released from this suffering.
Perhaps the saying is true: "A scourge lasts for a thousand years."
All I did was like someone. What’s wrong with liking someone? Why do they have to treat me this way? I can’t understand it.
I’ve only been in prison for a few years, but it feels like decades. I’ve aged a lot, my skin has yellowed and roughened, and my hands look like those of an old peasant woman’s—dark and coarse. Lately my health is getting worse, and I’ve nearly fainted several times while doing the laundry.
I’m driven nearly insane by the torture from those female inmates. It must be the work of that ruthless Lan Tian—she’s afraid Mo Junhua might like me, so she’s plotting to kill me at all costs.
When I can’t take it anymore, I want to see Mo Junhua. I’ve made requests to the higher-ups, but Mo Junhua never comes. I know it must be Lan Tian stopping him, that vile, petty woman. Sooner or later, Mo Junhua will see her true colors.
I know I’m not going to last much longer. Lately, I’ve been sleeping more and more, lazily unable to muster any energy. The only visitor I had in prison was Chu Yang—something I never expected, but I wish he hadn’t come.
The news Chu Yang brought was devastating to me. He told me Lan Tian went to study in Beijing, at Jing University no less. Mo Junhua was worried she would suffer and followed her to Beijing. As I listened, I cried, not believing any of it could be true.
Lately, I’ve been dreaming a lot. My dreams are beautiful and completely different from what I’ve endured—so beautiful that I don’t want to wake up, just keep sleeping, and spend a lifetime in that dream.
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