Were the old madman's actions over these ten months deliberate? Or accidental?
On a cold winter night, Ye Hao was wearing a tattered rag of a garment. The imposing bearing and elegant demeanor he'd had when he first came in were long gone; right now he looked exactly like a beggar scrounging food on the streets.
Late at night, a Guardian of the Hidden Realm United Association sent down two bowls of thin porridge, leftovers from the inn inside the Hidden Realm's Yellow Pool.
Whenever the owner of the Yellow Pool Inn had leftovers, he would send them to the Hidden Realm United Association, hoping to curry favor with them.
But how could the people of the Hidden Realm United Association possibly eat those scraps? So those things were honorably reserved for sinners like Ye Hao.
In the Celestial Prison of the Hidden Realm United Association, meals weren't on any fixed schedule. Sometimes you ate once every three days, sometimes once every five, and the longest gap had been ten days.
