Chapter Content
The Court of Judicial Review's imperial prison.
In an empty cell, Song Jing sat cross-legged, his mood calm.
In the four-plus months since his imprisonment, he had been questioned many times, but it bore no resemblance to interrogation whatsoever. Each time was basically just asking questions, getting answers, confirming, following up—the sense of oppression it gave him wasn't even as great as during the year-end performance reviews at the Secretariat.
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