There was only one meal a day, not much, and it tasted terrible, but Yang Yi desperately needed this meal.
Whether the food tasted good or bad was a consideration only after having eaten one's fill. When one's perpetually starving, anything could taste delicious.
So Yang Yi waited for today's food, and while waiting, he casually sang a song.
Yang Yi had long lost track of time. Waiting for daylight and darkness to gauge the passing days only intensified the discomfort of solitary confinement, so he had voluntarily given up on keeping track of time.
He sang with great fervor, but just as he was immersed in his singing, the iron door suddenly opened.