When Yang Yi came out of solitary confinement, he didn't look dispirited, but instead, he seemed more vigorous than ever.
He had eaten well, slept soundly, exercised thoroughly, and even had magazines to read—conditions that were much more comfortable than in his own cell.
This time Yang Yi was sent directly back to his own cell. Seeing Yang Yi enter, Zhang Yong yawned and said lazily, "Back already, was solitary confinement comfortable for you?"
"Comfortable, extremely comfortable."
Zhang Yong took it as self-mockery. He waved his hand and said, "I told you to go steal food, I didn't tell you to make such a big scene though. Rubber bullets don't feel too good, do they?"
If there was anything that truly pained Yang Yi these past few days, it would be the pain brought by the rubber bullets. Zhang Yong hadn't mentioned it, but as soon as he did, Yang Yi immediately felt the pain where the rubber bullets had hit.
"Damn it hurts, hurts like hell."
