Near noon, Wen Yu’s carriage convoy arrived at Tongcheng.
The inspection of merchant caravans entering and exiting at the city gate was very strict. Wen Yu’s convoy of over thirty people was lined up at the very back. While waiting for the merchant caravans ahead to be inspected, a guard who had formerly been a scout in the army went ahead to the city gate to gather information.
In a moment, he returned to the convoy and approached Wen Yu’s carriage. While observing the movements around them through the carriage window, he said in a low voice: “Noble master, the official road from Tongcheng to Lancheng has collapsed due to continuous rain and snow. The local government is dispatching people to excavate and clear it. We’ll have to wait in Tongcheng for at least two days. However, the government has posted a notice at the city gate widely recruiting talents, saying they’ll send people to Pingzhou to serve you! Should we make contact with them after entering the city?”
All the way south, the weather had been bitterly cold and damp. Wen Yu had a cloak draped over her shoulders and held a hand warmer. Hearing this, her lightly closed eyes didn’t open. She only said: “Do whatever ordinary merchant caravans would do. Don’t concern yourselves with anything else.”
The guard hesitated and said: “The road south is fraught with obstacles and dangers. If we could add more people in Tongcheng, we could better protect the noble master’s safety.”
Wen Yu’s long lashes lifted. Her eyes, like dark jade, were calm and cold as she asked in return: “What if this is bait to hook us?”
Her essay denouncing Pei Song had already been published. The purpose was to proclaim to the world that the Wen clan still had people, and at the same time to summon former subordinates. This way, after she went to Southern Chen, she would have more bargaining chips when negotiating to borrow troops.
But with the realm shattered to this extent, how many were still willing to remain loyal to the Wen clan?
Previously, though her father the Prince was trapped in Fengyang, at least he hadn’t yet decided victory or defeat with Pei Song, and they still held the imperial family’s name, which made many heroes under heaven not dare to easily take sides.
Now the Wen clan had been slaughtered until only she and A’Yin, who had been protected by her sister-in-law, remained.
After exposing that she was heading south, there would only be more prefectures wanting to capture her and present her to Pei Song as a pledge of loyalty, or perhaps hold her hostage to command her father the Prince’s former subordinates and also get involved in the battle for this realm.
Pei Song’s men couldn’t catch up to her, but before reaching Pingzhou, she didn’t dare risk trusting any prefecture that raised the banner of loyalty to Great Liang.
Hearing this, the guard said shamefully: “The noble master’s considerations are thorough. This subordinate was rash.”
Wen Yu only said: “The journey south is still long. Caution comes first in everything.”
The guard nodded and withdrew.
On the official road in the distance, another convoy could be seen approaching, but instead of lining up, they rode directly to the city gate. After showing the gate guards some document, the convoy entered the city in a grand procession.
The merchant caravans waiting behind complained loudly: “Whose convoy is that? Everyone’s lining up here, so how can they just enter the city directly?”
Someone recognized the emblem on the carriage and said: “It looks like the Feng family from Luodu.”
Hearing the two words “Luodu,” Wen Yu couldn’t help but pay more attention. She thought it strange—the Feng family of Luodu had ancestral roots in Taiyuan. Even if they were unwilling to submit to Pei Song, they should have gone north to seek refuge with the Marquis of Shuobian. Why were they coming south?
Then she heard those among the traveling merchants who knew more of the inside story say: “This isn’t the Luodu Feng family. After Pei Song attacked Luodu, the Han family, Li family, Feng family, and those from the former Ao faction—anyone even slightly related to them by blood or marriage—were all killed clean by Pei Song. Those pampered young ladies and titled madams—which one wasn’t crying for their parents the night before while being dragged into the rebel army’s tents, only to be wrapped naked in a straw mat the next morning and thrown into a mass grave? The one who just entered the city is probably a daughter of the Feng family who married out to Qinghe years ago. Fortunately she wasn’t in Luodu, so she escaped calamity.”
Hearing about the fate of those Luodu nobles, everyone sighed with emotion. Wen Yu, however, lowered her eyes in deep thought.
Pei Song’s methods were so cruel—not only did he exterminate the Wen imperial clan, even the Han, Feng, Li families and the Ao faction, he killed them to the fifth degree of kinship. Could it be he had some deep hatred with these great clans?
The Feng family and Ao faction were at least quite prestigious in court, but the Han and Li families had been declining for many years. They only held empty marquis titles in the capital and rarely appeared in public anymore. How could they have formed enmity with Pei Song?
Moreover, when Pei Song was acting as a lackey for the Ao faction, her father and brothers had already investigated him. He came from a humble background with no foundation, relying entirely on being a dog for the Ao faction to gradually gain power step by step.
That he turned on the Ao faction could be explained by several reasons, but his extermination of the Li and Han families was something Wen Yu couldn’t understand no matter how she thought about it.
The convoy had already reached their turn. The head guard was negotiating with the soldiers up front. Wen Yu raised her lashes and lightly tapped the carriage window twice with her knuckles.
The guard who had been a scout approached the carriage closer and asked in a lowered voice: “What are the noble master’s instructions?”
Wen Yu said: “Tongcheng is a small place. That the Feng family daughter’s carriage could bypass the merchant caravans waiting behind and enter the city directly means there will likely be many people in the city gossiping about the Feng family. After entering the city, inquire about what enemies the Luodu Feng family and the Luodu Han and Li families, as well as the Ao faction lineage, have made.”
The guard accepted the order and withdrew.
—
At the same time, inside Tongcheng.
A man with a small mustache who looked like a registrar hurriedly entered the study, calling: “Sir!”
The pot-bellied middle-aged man lounged in a round-backed chair, yawning as he asked: “How many of Princess Hanyang’s personal attendants have we caught now?”
The registrar said: “Today we only recruited a few hot-headed young scholars. This subordinate has already sent them away, but a big fish has come!”
The fat county magistrate’s squinting eyes opened: “Has Hanyang walked into the trap herself?”
The registrar laughed dryly: “Uh… not quite, but after we posted news of the official road collapse at fork roads along the way, it really did attract many merchant caravans into the city. There’s even a convoy that belongs to a married-out daughter of the Luodu Feng family, and she also seems to be going to Pingzhou to seek refuge with Princess Hanyang!”
The fat county magistrate couldn’t sit still now. His squinting eyes smiled into lines again: “Excellent! Follow the old rules—kill the people in the merchant caravans and confiscate their horses, carriages, and goods! As for that Feng family woman… leave her alive. The Grand Tutor has already killed all the branch families of the Luodu Feng family. As a member of the direct line, the Grand Tutor should be very pleased with this great gift!”
—
Yongzhou prison.
The prison warden had already led Pei Song and two personal guards to the mad old man’s cell door. Seeing people arrive, the mad old man acted as if they were invisible and continued humming to himself, his hands pulling out newly laid straw from below to weave grasshoppers.
The old warden looked at Pei Song’s expression and said carefully: “This… this is the person. Grand Tutor, look—is this who you’re looking for?”
Pei Song’s gaze fell on the messy beard and hair covering most of the mad old man’s face, as well as his tattered, filthy clothes. His gloomy eyes mixed with hidden hatred. His long blade came out of its sheath, and the warden screamed and fell to the ground clutching his leg.
He covered the wound on his calf, completely unaware why the other party had attacked, only crying hoarsely: “Grand Tutor, spare my life! Grand Tutor, spare my life!”
Blood dripped from Pei Song’s blade tip as he asked coldly: “All these years, this is how he’s been living in the prison?”
The warden was already in such pain that beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, but from Pei Song’s words, he keenly caught something unusual. He quickly said: “Grand Tutor, please see clearly—this lowly one… this lowly one has never mistreated this old mad… this old gentleman. If you don’t believe me, look at the straw in his cell—it’s all newly laid! There’s even a young man who often comes to see him. This lowly one took his money, so I wouldn’t mistreat this old gentleman…”
Pei Song’s long eyes narrowed: “Young man?”
The warden sniffed out a glimmer of hope for survival. To make what he’d just said more believable, he spilled everything: “That young man was imprisoned when he was young and was held in the prison for seven years. The old gentleman kept calling him ‘Huan’er, Huan’er.’ But because he was severely insane, sometimes he protected him, sometimes he beat him viciously. After he was released, he still often came to see the old gentleman.”
Pei Song lifted his foot and stepped on the warden’s throat, asking unhurriedly: “What’s that person’s name, and where does he live?”
The warden felt that even swallowing had become difficult. The instinct for survival made him answer truthfully: “He’s called… called Xiao Li. This lowly one doesn’t know where he lives, but he just recently became a guard at the provincial governor’s residence.”
“Xiao—Li?”
Pei Song slowly pronounced these two characters. His foot exerted force, and the “crack” of a throat bone breaking sounded. The warden’s eyes were wide open as he breathed his last.
Pei Song withdrew his foot as if what he had just crushed was merely an ant.
He turned back to look at the mad old man in the cell who was still humming a tune and weaving grasshoppers from straw. He made a gesture to his personal guard. Understanding, the guard took the keys from the warden’s waist and quickly opened the cell door, then tactfully withdrew.
Pei Song walked into the cell and looked down at the mad old man weaving grasshoppers for a while. Bloodshot redness gradually rose in his eyes, yet he laughed coldly: “So you really went mad, Qin Yi?”
The mad old man’s hands weaving the grasshopper paused. He slowly murmured: “Qin—Yi?”
His expression suddenly became extremely pained. The grasshopper in his hands also fell to the ground. Holding his head in both hands, he kept talking to himself: “Qin Yi? Who is Qin Yi?”
Some blurry images seemed to flash through his mind—battlefields with screaming charges, blood-stained long spears.
But more memories had been twisted into countless fragments that could no longer be pieced together no matter what.
He painfully clutched at his own hair, lifted his head and roared, asking the person before him, but tears he couldn’t control fell from his eyes: “Who is Qin Yi?”
As if that name was the source of all his suffering.
Pei Song grinned widely, tilted his head back and covered his eyes with his hand. The white light pouring in from the skylight fell on him, making it impossible to see the expression on his face clearly for a moment. They could only hear him say: “So you went mad. Good that you went mad. It’s just a pity you didn’t go mad after learning that I personally destroyed the Great Liang dynasty you foolishly remained loyal to. After all…”
“What are your wife and children, your subordinates, your entire Qin clan, compared to the Great Liang you remained loyal to?”
The last sentence was shouted out. He seemed to hate extremely, and beneath his palm were already mottled tear stains.
But the mad old man seemed even more violently stimulated. He painfully held his head and shrank into the corner, speaking incoherently: “A’Wu? Huan’er? Dead? All dead?”
“No! Huan’er isn’t dead! Not dead!” He stared at the straw-woven grasshopper that had just fallen to the ground and lunged over to pick it up, murmuring: “Huan’er isn’t dead. Huan’er recites his books well, practices martial arts well too…”
He dragged the piece of straw that hadn’t been woven yet, but the half-woven grasshopper body was stepped on by a brocade boot and crushed hard.
Pei Song laughed coldly: “Qin Huan is indeed dead. Back when Uncle bribed the escort officials and used a starved-to-death boy to switch me out, he was already dead. I am now called—Pei Song!”