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The prison never saw daylight all year round, only the passageway was lit by oil lamps.

It was dim and oppressive, hard to differentiate between day and night.

Prisoners who had just arrived would mark the walls to record the days, but as time dragged on either too long or the walls were filled with marks, they lost the will to count the days.

After all, too few lived to walk out of the prison!

The prisoner sitting in meditation was someone Zhou Yi remembered, ...

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