"Whoosh—smack!"

A crisp, heart-stopping crack of a whip exploded!

"Ah—!" The scarred-faced Batur's hand, which had reached for the woman, was instantly torn open, leaving a deep, bone-revealing gash on the back of his hand! The excruciating pain caused him to let out a pig-like scream, clutching his hand and staggering back several steps, looking up in shock and anger.

His henchmen were also stunned and instinctively pressed their hands on the curved swords at their waists.

Shen Zhao reined in "Mo Yun," sat upright on her horse, her red robes as red as blood, her black braid cascading down her shoulders, her pretty face frosty, her eyes like icy blades, coldly sweeping over the few thugs. Sunlight shone on her, as if she were possessed by a war goddess, awe-inspiring and unapproachable.

"Batur!" Her voice wasn't loud, but it clearly drowned out the child's cries and the thugs' gasps, carrying the cold hardness honed by the harsh winds of the northern frontier. "'Peace money' has been taken under my father's control and turned into protection money for you to rob people on the road and bully women and children? Who gave you the guts?!"

Her gaze, like a tangible icicle, pierced the scarred man: "Take your men and go to the city garrison to receive twenty lashes! If I see you near that mother and child again, or accept any of that bullshit 'peace money'..." With a flick of her wrist, the blood-stained black snakeskin whip lashed through the air with a sharp crack, "Next time, it'll be your claws that break!"

Batur clutched the back of his hand, trembling with pain and drenched in cold sweat. He looked up at the bright, fiery yet menacing young woman on horseback, especially the black iron token at her waist engraved with the character "Chen," symbolizing the supreme authority of the Zhenbei Army. Then he thought about the skills this "Little Blazing Sun" princess had honed in the military camp and her father Shen Wensong's iron-fisted rule... All her fierce arrogance was instantly extinguished, leaving only fear.

“Princess…Princess!” Batur knelt down with a thud, his voice trembling. “I deserve to die! I was foolish! I’ll get out of here right now! I’ll go and receive my punishment!” He dared not look at Shen Zhao again, and disregarded his hand injury. He scrambled to his equally terrified follower, and, in a disheveled state, squeezed through the crowd and ran toward the city garrison, afraid of being a step too late.

Shen Zhao let out a cold snort, the icy coldness in her eyes fading slightly. She nimbly dismounted, her movements clean and swift. Walking up to the terrified Hu woman holding her crying child, her previous chill instantly transformed into the warmth of the northern sun. She asked in a Hu language with a slight local accent, "Aunt Aisha, are you alright? Is the child frightened?"

When the woman, Aisha, recognized Shen Zhao, her tears flowed even more fiercely, a mixture of gratitude and lingering fear in her eyes: "Young Princess! Thank you so much, Young Princess! If it weren't for you..."

Shen Zhao waved her hand, took out a small silver coin from her bosom, and put it in the child's hand, her tone light: "Buy some candy for the child to calm his nerves. Don't worry, Batur and the others won't dare to come again. If you need anything, just go to the General's Mansion to find me, or find Captain Zhang of the Patrol Battalion, and just say that I, Shen Zhao, told you to." Her smile was bright, with the straightforwardness unique to young girls.

Aisha held the child and expressed her deepest gratitude.

Shen Zhao said no more, mounted his horse with fluid movements. "Giddy up!" he shouted softly, and "Mo Yun" reared up again. The fiery red figure rejoined the flow of people on the long street.