When one of Mu Hanjiang’s Courage-rank shadow guards went to draw maps of the area, he inadvertently discovered clues about the next target of this band of fierce bandits and submitted an urgent document sealed with the “Courage” character to Young Master Mu.

Last night, Yan Xiaoying had originally just wanted to carefully examine the seal pattern on the document to see if it matched her memory.

However, when she casually read the document’s contents, she was secretly shocked.

She had been away from Jiangzhe for less than a year, yet such evil demons had emerged in the region!

The Little King of Hell leading people to massacre villages? Absolute nonsense!

Was this true, or was Mu Hanjiang laying a trap to lure someone in?

After watching the gentlemen depart, Elder Teng was about to set out.

Xiaoying swallowed the last bite of her pancake and suddenly began coughing violently, groaning about a headache.

Returning to her room, she had Jian Hu call for a physician. Without even requiring a pulse diagnosis, she simply asked him to prescribe medicine for a cold.

Since the Crown Prince had caught a cold, Jian Hu had no choice but to inform Elder Teng that the Crown Prince’s delicate constitution couldn’t withstand the rigors of travel, and wished to rest at the courier station for a few days before going to Jin Shui County.

After a few days of recovery, the Crown Prince would have local officials send people to escort him to Jin Shui County to meet with Elder Teng.

Elder Teng had official duties and couldn’t afford delays for sightseeing.

Seeing the Crown Prince’s frailty and pale face, he felt helpless and somewhat regretted bringing this little golden Buddha along.

Shaking his head, he could only follow the Crown Prince’s wishes and let him recuperate here for a few days.

Although Mu Hanjiang and the others had left, the shadow guards assigned to protect the Crown Prince remained.

Xiaoying carefully observed and identified the positions of the shadow guards, then took a dagger and removed two wooden boards separating her room from the adjacent one, allowing her to move next door without using the door.

After changing into a courier station maid’s clothes and letting down her hair before simply tying it into a bun, she transformed into a charming young woman.

Jian Hu had never seen this fake Crown Prince in women’s clothing. Under normal circumstances, he would likely have been enchanted by the young woman’s powdered cheeks, large eyes, and lively gaze.

But now she had no interest in appreciating beauty and nervously asked, “Miss, what… are you going to do now?”

Xiaoying smiled and carefully instructed Jian Hu to lock the door and not let anyone in. Then she went to the next room through the dismantled wall boards.

Watching for when the shadow guards changed shifts, Xiaoying quickly exited with her head down, pretending to be a courier station maid, picked up a slop bucket from the corridor, and left the station with the morning shift workers.

After leaving the courier station, she bought a veiled hood from a street vendor who had just set up their stall.

Yesterday, while out with Mu Hanjiang and the others, Xiaoying had already left a secret signal at a street corner.

When she returned to check the signal spot, the mark had been erased and a new one carved—this meant contact had been established.

So when Yan Xiaoying hired a small donkey cart and arrived at the appointed small courtyard in the suburbs, a black-faced, bearded man was already waiting there. Seeing her arrive, he immediately clasped his fists in greeting and called out urgently, “Young Mistress! You’ve finally returned!”

This bearded man was Uncle Jin. He wasn’t part of Meng’s army of righteous men but a capable leader in Xiaoying’s salt gang who operated below the mountain, and who regularly helped Meng Zhun’s army gather intelligence from nearby villages.

Since Yan Xiaoying had entered the capital, he had been managing the salt gang’s business according to her instructions.

Xiaoying lifted the veil from her hood and asked, “Uncle Jin, what’s the truth about the rumors of the Little King of Hell massacring Qionghua Village?”

Uncle Jin looked equally anxious: “These people haven’t just massacred Qionghua Village. In the past two months, three villages have been ravaged, all under the name of the ‘Little King of Hell.’ The reputation of the Meng family army has been nearly ruined by these bandits!”

Uncle Jin had been anxious but couldn’t contact Xiaoying, let alone General Meng, who was trapped on Mount Ding. Helpless, he could only pace like an ant on a hot pan.

Now seeing Yan Xiaoying, he blurted out everything he knew.

Xiaoying frowned as she listened. So the unrest in Jiangzhe that Feng Yuan had mentioned earlier, with people massacring villages, was indeed caused by this group.

There was turmoil in Jiangzhe, full of demons and monsters, but for someone to dare use the name “Little King of Hell” to do such things, they truly deserved praise for their boldness!

Taking the map handed to her by Uncle Jin, Xiaoying quickly marked the villages where tragedies had occurred, recalling the contents of Mu Hanjiang’s document she had glimpsed yesterday.

According to it, the Dragon Scale Shadow Guards had discovered the whereabouts of the “Little King of Hell.” Their next target was Iron Pestle Village, located outside the county’s jurisdiction.

The specific time and location were detailed in the document: tonight at midnight.

That’s why Mu Hanjiang had hurriedly set out early this morning with his shadow guards, taking a step ahead to deploy troops to Iron Pestle Village. Once the main force arrived, they would begin the encirclement.

After hearing Xiaoying’s analysis, Uncle Jin relaxed slightly: “If that’s the case, won’t this group impersonating our Meng family army be brought to justice soon? That would be the best outcome.”

But Yan Xiaoying gave a cold laugh: “Why has my foster father escaped the government troops’ encirclement so many times over the years? It’s all thanks to the support of the local villagers. Though he took to the mountains for refuge, he has never robbed the common people of a single penny! Instead, he has helped his neighbors countless times, bearing the title of bandit for nothing. If these thieves impersonate the Meng family army and are caught by officials, every head nailed to the stake will bear the name of the Meng family army! By then, the infamy of the Meng family army disregarding civilians and killing indiscriminately will never be washed away! Even if my foster father breaks out of Mount Ding, he will have nowhere to stand in this world!”

Hearing the Young Mistress’s analysis, Uncle Jin suddenly understood and anxiously asked, “What should we do? We don’t have enough people right now. Even if we reach Iron Pestle Village, we can’t snatch people from the Dafeng official troops!”

Xiaoying fell silent and carefully examined the map again, muttering to herself, “Strange, why would they go to Iron Pestle Village?”

As its name suggested, Iron Pestle Village had a terrain shaped like the iron pestle used for washing clothes.

One side was wider while the other was extremely narrow, making the terrain elongated.

From a robber’s perspective, such a village would never be chosen. Once surrounded, it would only take two blockades to trap them within the village, flanked by cliffs, making escape nearly impossible.

Such terrain was like entering a coffin—extremely inauspicious!

Unless the village was extremely wealthy, making thieves willing to take such a great risk.

But ironically, this village was famously poor in the area, and many locals were hunters, with every household possessing knives, spears, and bows.

A few years ago, during a water source dispute with a neighboring village, every household in Iron Pestle Village had responded as one, with even small children wielding wooden swords. The conflict nearly turned deadly.

This village full of rough fighters had made a name for itself and was known throughout the region as not to be trifled with.

Xiaoying knew all this, making the bandits’ actions even more incomprehensible.

However, when she moved her gaze to East Field Village, thirty li west of Iron Pestle Village, she narrowed her eyes and fell into deep thought.

Finally, she firmly pointed at the map: “The Dragon Scale Shadow Guards’ intelligence is wrong. This is the bandits’ real target!”

East Field Village was unlike other villages. Most of its residents had migrated from Jiling a hundred years ago.

Since they didn’t intermarry with other villages, most clan members still maintained the Jiling dialect. Many villagers were merchants for generations, making the village quite prosperous.

In the Jiling dialect, “East Field” and “Iron Pestle” were pronounced the same.

The Dragon Scale shadow guard was probably someone Mu Hanjiang had brought from the capital. After tracking and investigating, he likely asked locals about the village’s name.

In this situation, it would be easy to mishear, confusing “East Field” for “Iron Pestle.” The two villages appeared close on the map, separated by just one mountain—a common mistake made by merchants from other regions.

But what seemed like an insignificant mountain on the map often caused people to run themselves ragged.

Perhaps that shadow guard had made the same mistake, matching the homophonic Iron Pestle Village on the map and sending the information by carrier pigeon, reporting incorrectly.

If Mu Hanjiang’s forces followed the intelligence report, they would almost certainly take the wrong path to the wrong village.

Between the two villages lay rugged mountain paths. Even with fast horses, it would take at least an hour.

With Mu Hanjiang’s intelligence, he would quickly realize the mistake if he noticed something amiss.

This meant she only had a one-hour time advantage to exploit.

Thinking of this, Xiaoying asked quietly, “How many salt gang members will return on boats today? Don’t exclude anyone—tell me the total number.”

Uncle Jin counted on his fingers: “Two ships will return this afternoon, with about ten people at most. If that’s not enough, I can hire some people from the escort agency.”

Xiaoying shook her head: “This matter shouldn’t leak out. It’s more reassuring to use our people.”

After speaking, she walked to a cabinet in a room, opened it, and took out a half-new, half-old, black iron mask with red patterns and a ferocious face—this was the theater mask of Yama, King of Hell.

Xiaoying had first seen King Yama when her father took her to the temple to calm her spirit.

When she asked the monk which deity judged people’s sins and punished evildoers, the monk pointed to this judge of the underworld.

And when her father taught her to draw this facial pattern, he had told her that this deity could judge people’s merits and offenses in life, bind and capture evildoers, and control life and death.

Xiaoying had spent a long time learning to draw this facial pattern back then…

Caressing the long-missed mask, slowly putting it on, the young woman beneath the mask broke into a murderous smile.

The Little King of Hell? She would flip through the book of life and death to see which small-time crook dared impersonate the soul-collecting Yama of the underworld!

…

Meanwhile, Mu Hanjiang had arrived early at Iron Pestle Village marked on the map before the designated time.

He had brought sufficient troops and, after positioning his men to block both ends of the village, waited to meet up with the shadow guards stationed there.

But as the appointed time arrived, there was still no sign of the “Courage” rank shadow guard, nor any bandits.

Mu Hanjiang had previously worked with the Third Prince to quell rebellion and had tangled with this Little King of Hell for a long time, suffering many losses and harboring a deep grudge.

Even before heading to Jiangzhe, he had heard news of the Little King of Hell terrorizing civilians again.

Perhaps because the bandits were desperate, this Little King of Hell acted more viciously and brutally than a year ago, repeatedly massacring entire villages.

With the resentment from the Yicheng prison break still unresolved, now this Little King of Hell was brazenly provocative again.

Mu Hanjiang had mobilized the elite of the Dragon Scale Shadow Guards, vowing to capture the Little King of Hell and completely cut off the retreat for the rebel general Meng Zhun, who was trapped on Mount Ding.

To prevent information leaks, he hadn’t even informed local officials, ensuring everything would be foolproof.

But today, things seemed off everywhere.

After ordering his men to search the surroundings, they found no signs of the usual markers left by Dragon Scale Shadow Guards before operations.

Mu Hanjiang couldn’t help but change into casual clothes and walk into the village to gather information, only to discover that this village barely had any decent houses…

Would someone risk their life to slaughter such a village just to steal a few strips of cured meat and dried radishes that the villagers had hung to dry?

Mu Hanjiang stopped in his tracks and pulled over an old man from the village to ask, “Elder, is there another Iron Pestle Village nearby?”

The old man, noting Mu Hanjiang’s capital accent, said, “Why do we keep getting people who mix up locations? Sir, perhaps you’re looking for East Field Village?”

It seemed that outsiders frequently confused these two villages, and the old man was quite used to it!

After Mu Hanjiang clarified the homophonic village names, he cursed inwardly at the mistake!

When he and his troops arrived at East Field Village, covered in dust from their journey, it was already past midnight, and the horizon was beginning to show faint signs of dawn.

This was indeed a wealthy village, with an entrance archway inscribed with the abstruse “East Field Village” in pre-Qin calligraphy.

Unless one were a great scholar, these characters would be incomprehensible.

Mu Hanjiang was usually refined, but seeing these unreadable village characters, he felt like cursing.

He had been misled by this village name, running all night on a wild goose chase.

But now, his greatest fear was that the village might have already fallen victim to the bandits.

Sure enough, at the base of the archway lay three decapitated corpses, covered in blood—a gruesome sight.

From the tall archway hung dozens of ropes, each holding the rigid body of a burly man.

In the light of the still-burning lanterns at the village entrance, these swaying corpses made the village gate appear as grim as the underworld.

As Mu Hanjiang approached, he discovered that his three shadow guards and two unfamiliar large men were tied at both ends of the corridor archway.

The two unfamiliar men had their mouths gagged, with wet patches around their crotches, as if they had been frightened into wetting themselves earlier.

The three shadow guards seemed merely unconscious and were finally awakened by a splash of cold water.

The “Courage” rank shadow guard, upon waking, looked confused and ashamed: “Young Master, I deserve death! I was carelessly ambushed!”

Mu Hanjiang coldly replied: “Your greatest mistake wasn’t being ambushed, but that your ears don’t work properly! How could you mix up a village name? Tell me, who ambushed you, and who are all these dead people?”

The shadow guard, full of shame, quickly explained what had happened.

It turned out that while stationed here watching for bandit activity, he had seen a merchant caravan trying to enter the village.

Suspecting they might be bandits scouting ahead, he pretended to be a passing merchant and approached to speak with the caravan.

Seeing that the caravan’s travel documents and merchant tokens were complete, the shadow guard had relaxed his vigilance.

But just as he was about to turn and leave, a small, thin boy with a dirty face from the caravan suddenly held up a handkerchief to cover the mouths and noses of his two subordinates, instantly drugging them.

The shadow guard had been alert, and after taking down the two men who tried to drug him, he exchanged a few moves with the dirty-faced boy.

The boy’s grappling technique was peculiarly rigid and strange, resembling the Xiao family’s boxing style. After five or six moves, he could have subdued the boy, but someone shot a dart from the side.

He felt his neck go numb, and reaching to touch it, found a silver needle dipped in anesthetic stuck in his acupuncture point.

As a result, his movements slowed, and in a moment of distraction, his mouth and nose were covered by the handkerchief.

When he regained consciousness, he saw the Young Master, and the three Dragon Scale Shadow Guard waist tokens belonging to him and his subordinates were missing.

Just then, more than twenty yamen runners came from the village, well-fed and satisfied. Seeing Mu Hanjiang and his men, they immediately tensed, drew their swords, and loudly questioned their identity.

After clearing up the misunderstanding, Mu Hanjiang finally understood what had happened.

It turned out that those people disguised as merchants, after drugging his subordinates, had used their waist tokens to impersonate Dragon Scale Shadow Guards and mobilized yamen runners from two local counties.

These yamen runners rarely received such major cases.

After all, cases with potential for merit and fame were usually snatched up by others eager to achieve something, so how could ordinary local yamen runners get such an opportunity?

At the thought of being dispatched by Dragon Scale Shadow Guards to guard the village and later fighting fierce bandits, they were trembling with fear.

Fortunately, a young-faced, black-bearded shadow guard official was quite astute, skillfully directing them to deploy defenses, set up outposts, and lay ambushes.

When night fell, those fierce mounted bandits entered the village with swords, only to be immediately flipped over by dozens of horse-tripping ropes.

Afterward, following the young-faced official’s command, these yamen runners fired a volley of arrows and then directed villagers from every household to pour boiling oil, scalding the bandits who writhed and screamed all over the ground.

After capturing this gang of thieves, the dirty-faced shadow guard official began interrogating them—a process both swift and severe.

The same question was asked only once, and any hesitation in answering resulted in immediate beheading. After executing three men this way and questioning everyone in turn, he kept the two most cowardly ones who talked easily for further interrogation.

As for the others, apart from the three bandit leaders who were executed on the spot, the rest were hanged at the village entrance by the local militia, who were furious and followed the wartime custom of village protection.

Speaking of this, the yamen runner couldn’t help but flatter: “Truly worthy of being Dragon Scale Shadow Guards from the capital! From ambush to capture, it took less than half an hour—clean and efficient! And that official’s interrogation techniques were truly formidable, making all the bandits confess. However, they claimed not to be part of the rumored rebel ‘Little King of Hell.’ Instead, they were hired to impersonate the Little King of Hell’s subordinates, and the previous atrocities in several villages were all committed by these fierce bandits! The confessions were signed and sealed, matching the details of the previous tragic incidents.”

Mu Hanjiang gritted his teeth and asked, “And where is that shadow guard now?”

“That official took the confessions and the bandit leaders’ heads to the yamen, saying he would have the runners post notices throughout the surrounding areas overnight, letting the people know that the impostor bandits had been caught and they could now rest easy!”

At this point, the yamen runner seemed to remember something and took out an envelope from his bosom, handing it to Mu Hanjiang: “Sir, this is what that official asked me to pass on to the later-arriving authority. He said he was too busy with follow-up matters and needed your help to handle the remaining tasks!”

Mu Hanjiang accepted the letter with a cold face. When he opened it, the letter contained only a drawing of a ferocious King Yama mask!

The Little King of Hell! How clever!

Without expending a single soldier, they had used borrowed force, employing government officials to eliminate the bandits who had misused their name, and then used official notices to clear their reputation!

That same morning, the official notices were posted early.

As the sun rose high and the city gates opened wide, while people gathered to read the notices, suddenly a mysterious figure wearing a black long cloak and a King Yama mask appeared on the city wall.

This person, holding the hair of three bandit heads, loudly proclaimed: “From now on, if anyone dares impersonate me to do such unjust and unrighteous deeds, these three villains will be your fate!”

With that, the mysterious person used a bow and arrow to pierce through the hair of the heads, nailing all three high on the city wall.