Late at night, the dark and damp dungeon held several thousand people, packed so tightly that they had no space to sit and rest, and could only stand crowded together, even when sleeping.
They had been imprisoned for so long, unable to eat or sleep well, their faces were sallow and their bodies were emaciated and exhausted. Without others to lean against, they would likely collapse to the ground.
With a "crack," the dungeon's iron lock was opened, and everyone who heard the sudden sound shuddered, their faces showing expressions of fear.
Ye You, in a black robe with disheveled dark gray hair, slowly walked down the stairs. The staircase was long, and the heavy sound of footsteps echoed continuously in the silent dungeon, making hearts tremble.
Four people followed behind him.
The first person had a graceful figure, her pink gown fluttering like a butterfly, bright eyes like water, and charming red lips. She was Meng Yu, who had narrowly escaped death many times.
