Chapter 266: The Respect That Should Be Given

Zhao Lang coldly looked at the few people before him; this time the brothers were no longer brothers, and the so‑called deep brotherly bond could not outweigh the gentle world of his beloved.

The few, for the first time, sensed a faint murderous intent emanating from Zhao Lang, and instantly each felt their hearts tremble.

Behind them, it was wrong to gossip about the General's wife, but hadn't the General previously disliked the wife that the Rui Wang Fu forced upon him!

During the few days after the wedding, while drinking privately with them, they even said they would give that woman a splash of color.

Later it spread that the General, in a fit of rage for a beautiful woman, hacked down many persimmon trees.

They were training troops at the Southern Great Camp without taking it to heart; now that they saw Madam Jinzhi, they naturally felt less respect and more gossip.

Just when they were gossiping, they were caught red‑handed by the very master.

The few were awkward and didn't know what to say; when they heard Zhao Lang's questioning, they couldn't utter a single word.

Zhao Lang coldly looked at the few people before him, his voice sinking a few more levels as he gritted his teeth and said, "She is my wife!"

"I have paid my respects in the hall and entered the Zhao family genealogy; the young madam is your head matriarch."

Each time Zhao Lang spoke, the few across from him grew paler, each feeling a slight tremor in their hearts.

They finally understood how absurdly wrong they had been; Jinzhi, as a woman, now held incalculable weight in the General's eyes.

At this moment the few were at a loss, and they knelt before Zhao Lang, begging for punishment.

Zhao Lang coldly laughed, "Those who slander and gossip about the head matriarch behind my back shall receive thirty lashes!"

"Come, men! Gather all soldiers in front of the martial display platform," he paused, then coldly looked at the few, speaking each word deliberately: "Observe the execution, as a warning to all!"

The few's bodies trembled slightly; they were not afraid of being beaten, but the General actually had all the brothers come to watch them be beaten, which cost them some face.

Yet they all knew the General's temperament; if they endured the thirty lashes, that would be it.

But if any hint of dissatisfaction showed, the General might truly kill them.

Now the brothers felt inexpressible regret, wondering why they hadn't seen that the General truly cherished the young madam, having thought it was just a fleeting act.

This beating, even if endured, is in vain.

Quickly Zhao Lang's order spread, and a black, dense crowd of soldiers stood beneath the martial display platform.

Everyone looked bewildered at the three deputy generals on the platform, shirtless and lying on a stool; they were on very good terms with the General, yet for some unknown reason they had angered him and were stripped of their clothes to receive thirty lashes.

Within a short time, the news spread across the entire arena: the General punished those three because they had disrespected the General's newly wed young madam.

At Zhao Lang's command, the boards struck the three men's backs hard; although all three were martial practitioners with thick skin and flesh that could bear the blows, a few strikes still sent flesh flying, a sight both gruesome and shocking.

The three men were already filled with regret, and in front of so many brothers it was hard to shout; each forced themselves to endure the pain and bore the thirty lashes.

Soon a dead silence fell around; the sound of boards striking flesh on the platform and the three deputy generals' muffled groans reached the crowd below, and everyone kept their heads down, unwilling to look.

Jinzhi, however, was tightly grasped by Zhao Lang's hand, standing on the platform, unable to bear the sight of the blood‑splattered scene before her.

Although the three's slanders made her angry, they were nonetheless comrades who followed Zhao Lang to life and death; if they were broken or if any rift arose among the brothers, that would be her fault.

Jinzhi kept turning her face toward Zhao Lang, her eyes full of pleading, hoping Zhao Lang would spare the three.

Zhao Lang, however, tightened his grip on her hand, leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Jinzhi, as long as I, Zhao Lang, draw breath, I will never allow anyone to slander you."

"Now those three need to be dealt with; since they act under my command, they must follow my rules."

"You are my wife and their sister‑in‑law; such disrespect for elders and arrogance—such a temperament should be curbed and taught a lesson."

Zhao Lang led this group in the Western Rong borderlands to achieve feats several times, almost never suffering a defeat.

These people, following Zhao Lang and winning repeatedly, became a bit arrogant and somewhat frivolous; this time Zhao Lang used this as a pretext to beat them severely.

Immediately everyone fell silent; they all knew this beating was meant as a warning to others.

Earlier they heard that the General, to please the young madam beside him, was even willing to offend the Duan clan and the Qin clan, cutting down almost all the persimmon trees in Shang Jing.

Now looking at Miss Jinzhi, it seems she has already taken residence in the General's heart.

From now on, when they see the young madam, they all know exactly how to act.

After the execution, Zhao Lang returned with Jinzhi to the military camp.

The couple prepared to return to Shang Jing the next day; that night was naturally filled with romance under flowers and moon, sweet as honey.

The night grew deeper, and in the Ministry of Justice's death cell sat two female prisoners shackled in iron.

The two, constantly quarrelling, were forced by the jailer to be completely separated.

At this moment, Hong Yu raised both hands, tightly gripping the barrier, and gave a cold smile as she stared at the paralyzed Su Wanrou sitting in the corner.

She laughed loudly, her voice full of endless mockery.

Su Wanrou slowly opened her eyes, hair disheveled, her face as pale as paper, her whole body already filthy and squalid.

Having passed through several execution halls and endured punishments, the plain white prison uniform was stained with blood; in fact she never resisted, answering any question asked, and could recount clearly how many people she had killed.

In short, once the matter was exposed, Su Wanrou had no chance of survival, so why would she bring further suffering upon herself.

He had countless times tried to use his wits, yet was rescued each time; he knew that in this troupe there were connections and people, and Xiao Yin was ruthless, never letting him die so easily in the rain.

He even considered starving himself to death; the ominous jade bamboo, afflicted with external inflammation, somehow refused to let him die. When he refused food, the jailers pried open his mouth and forced food in. After repeated attempts, he faced setbacks; the earlier interrogation had ended, and he knew the punishment would be more than just beheading. While his mind was empty and wandering, a pale, ghost‑like female face appeared on the opposite barrier—his maid Hong Yu, who had reached this place, now revealed all the misdeeds of Su Wanrou she knew.

At first Hong Yu desperately slapped him, because he claimed he had lost, and I had ruined his red sun, but then one day Hong Yu fainted and was taken away by the imperial clan, not knowing where she went; shortly after she was brought back. Hong Yu's food and clothing were indeed better than Su Wanrou's.