Chapter 90

After saying that, he himself paused for a moment.

The wind at the city gate blew between the two of them, making the horses' manes sway slightly.

Du Shanü still didn't answer, not even turning her head the slightest bit.

Usually, she could seek out beautiful sights to pass the time.

But with a great calamity upon them, she had no interest in love or romance.

Du Shanü's gaze remained fixed on the direction of the city gate, on the figures pouring out.

Immediately, her fingers hanging at her side lifted slightly, her fingertip lightly tapping the handle of the Yuan Zhong crossbow:

「Tok。」

A single sound, very soft.

Then her hand dropped back down, resting quietly beside the saddle, as if nothing had happened.

Chinu, receiving no answer, grew more gloomy in brow and eye, looked away from her face and also toward the city gate.

The two horses stood quietly side by side.

At the city gate, the footsteps of that group had already emerged.

The steps were disordered, some fast, some slow; the sound of boots on stone tiles mingled with the metallic clink of sword scabbards against thighs and the dull thud of spear shafts striking the gate walls.

The footsteps drew ever closer.

Du Shanü's eyelids twitched slightly.

Her seated posture remained unchanged; one hand loosely held the reins, the other hung at her side, barely three inches from the Yuan Zhong crossbow at her waist.

From the darkness of the city gate, the first things to appear were the tips of several spears.

The iron blades flashed cold light at the boundary of light and shadow, followed immediately by a line of dark-blue uniforms—

Seven or eight constables filed out, lining both sides, their spears angled downward; once they stood still, they remained motionless.

Their complexions were not good; someone glanced sideways at the corpse on the ground with an arrow through the throat, his Adam's apple bobbed once, then he quickly looked away.

Right after the crowd came a sedan chair.

Two bamboo poles supported a grand master's chair in the middle, its back draped with a woven brocade cushion.

Four bearers lifted it, their steps unsteady, the bamboo poles pressing deep grooves into their shoulders; with each step the chair jolted.

A person sat askew in the grand master's chair.

An old man, his hair white and sparse, wore a robe of patterned satin; the fabric was fine, but on him it gave off an air of decay.

His head bobbed with the chair's sway, gradually drooping until his chin nearly touched his chest, then he jerked it up again; his cloudy eyes rolled around in a dazed circle, as if he still hadn't figured out where he was.

Beside the sedan chair followed a person wearing a pink theatrical costume.

His water sleeves were draped over his arms, his face fully made up, with willow-shaped brows meeting the temples and a hint of red at the corners of his eyes.

His gait was graceful, steps small, his waist twisting left and right, yet his stride was much longer than an ordinary woman's, and he walked fast, catching up to the chair's rhythm in just a few steps.

Behind him, several people with pallid faces and darting eyes huddled.

They were none other than the soldiers who had earlier run back from the city gate to report the news.

The group emerged from the city gate; the afternoon sun struck them fiercely, and everyone squinted.

Liu Er, who usually danced with his water sleeves, reacted the fastest, being the first to adjust to the light.

He raised his hand; the water sleeves slipped down, revealing his pale, plump wrist, which he rested on his brow to shield his eyes; his gaze swept past the corpse, past the pool of blood on the ground, and landed squarely on the person on horseback.

Liu Er's pretty face showed a hint of surprise; he leaned close to Qian Youde's ear, his lips moving as he said something.

Qian Youde's head continued to droop bit by bit.

After Liu Er finished speaking, he showed no reaction, until Liu Er poked his shoulder lightly with a finger, at which point he jerked awake and lifted his head—

Those cloudy old eyes met Du Shanü's gaze.

At that instant, his cloudy eyes felt as if stung by something; the loose skin on his chin twitched twice, as if he wanted to speak, but only a garbled word could escape his throat.

Hearing that, Liu Er started, instinctively glancing toward Du Shanü.

The sedan chair stopped at the city gate, just five or six steps from the corpse.

The constables lined both sides, their spears forming a forest.

The performer stood beside the County Magistrate, his water sleeves hanging down.

And Du Shanü, mounted on her horse, looked down from above upon the crowd before her.

The wind ceased.

Even the air at the city gate seemed to have frozen.

Everyone's eyes fell upon the woman on horseback.

But she merely lowered her eyes, gazing at the old man seated in the grand master's chair, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly—

Not a smile.

Just a faint, indescribable curve.

Liu Er couldn't tell what that meant; he simply instinctively recalled the County Magistrate's muttered words just moments before.

The County Magistrate said, 'With such bearing and appearance, even if she is not a princess, she is certainly no ordinary pond-dweller....'

Princess?

Could she really be a princess?

Then what is he to do?!

He came from a brothel troupe, as low as one can get.

Having finally managed to latch onto an old man through his own abilities, he now hopes to manipulate the old man's dim-sighted eyes to enjoy a few days of living like a petty emperor.

But now, out of nowhere, some princess has appeared above the old man......

Even the old man himself has to kneel—so what is he to do from now on?

Liu Er was both startled and frightened, not knowing what to do for a moment.

Du Shanü's gaze had grown deep, falling on that sedan chair as she looked down at the old man inside, and she said:

"Qian Youde."

Three words, spoken with extreme clarity, her voice neither loud nor soft, just enough for everyone at the city gate to hear.

Her tone was flat as a dead pool of water, making people's hearts prickle.

The old man in the sedan chair stiffened slightly.

Qian Youde's Adam's apple rolled, his lips moved, but before he could utter a sound to ask who had come, Du Shanü preempted him, speaking out in rebuke:

"I, the Palace, received the edict in Cang Cheng and was enfeoffed with the three cities' food stipend; the edict has been proclaimed, and all the city knows!"

"The edict of investiture is still enshrined in the main hall of the Cang Cheng residence! Ju Cheng and Cang Cheng are only dozens of li apart; as the magistrate of Ju Cheng, have you sent someone to pay respects? Have you submitted a memorial to offer congratulations?"

If you didn't know, that is dereliction of duty.

If you knew and still did it, that is contempt for the imperial family.

Du Shanü's words were so imposing that it was really hard to answer.

Those present had initially dared to glance around, but now, shaken by this aura, many immediately lowered their heads and dared not lift them again.

Yes.

Only thus is it correct.

After all, how could an edict be casually seen by anyone?

Du Shanü paused, her gaze sweeping across Qian Youde's face like a blade skimming over flesh—without cutting, but sending a chill down one's spine:

"None."

Du Shanü spoke for him herself.

Her gaze then dropped, landing on the sedan chair, on the two bamboo poles and the four bearers, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly, forming a smile that was not quite a smile:

"Not only did you not, but now I, the Palace, have personally come to Ju Cheng, and you......"

"Upon seeing the Palace, you didn't even dismount from your sedan."

As those words fell, sweat began to bead on Qian Youde's forehead, trickling down the creases of his face.

His lips trembled, wanting to say something but not knowing where to begin.

Du Shanü wound the reins once in her hand, slightly lowered her body, her gaze fixed straight on his face, her voice lowered a little, yet each word weighed heavier:

"Qian Youde, I, the Palace, lay down my words here today——

"You, as county magistrate, have today reached the end of your rope."

?? Shasha: Never fall into the trap of self-justification.