Jiang Yimian touched her nose guiltily. It turned out this thing was from Angry Birds. If she had known, she definitely wouldn't have touched it, and she wouldn't have taken it out now.
Lin Yan'an was just unlucky; his goods were stolen by the counterfeiters.
Lin Yan'an was helped over shortly afterward.
His face was pale, and his legs were trembling from time to time, clearly frightened by the bloody scene at the entrance of the mountain stronghold.
Before they could figure out what was going on, they spotted a row of bandits defecating in the distance.
He stared in astonishment, unable to believe that the bandits who had been so fierce and wielding long knives like they were cutting vegetables were now all pale and powerless to fight back.
The legs, which were squatting, seemed to have lost much strength from squatting for so long, and were trembling slightly.
The fear in my heart disappeared a lot because of the shocking scene.
When Song Quanzhao saw him coming over, he pointed to the boxes piled up next to him and said, "These are all the goods the Lin family has left."
Lin Yan'an then looked at the boxes piled up to the side.
The original hundreds of boxes of medicinal herbs had dwindled to just over twenty boxes, and the boxes containing the most valuable herbs had also disappeared. Although he felt a little disappointed, he wasn't too surprised, since he had already learned from Wang Ergou that the Lin family's medicinal herbs had been taken and sold by bandits long ago, so the valuable herbs would naturally not have been left behind.
After thinking for a while, he simply said, "Then consider these medicinal herbs as a donation from my Lin family to the refugees, and let the master do as he sees fit."
He had already anticipated this outcome when he learned that the bandits had sold off his family's goods. Although they had lost a considerable amount, it was nothing to the Lin family.
Why not use this opportunity to show off to the magistrate and gain a good reputation among the people? That way, his trip won't be in vain.
If his father knew, he probably wouldn't blame him too much. He would just feel sorry for him, as his first time delivering goods with the family's caravan ended up being robbed by bandits. He would never go with them again.
Song Quanzhao was taken aback, but solemnly patted Lin Yan'an on the shoulder and said, "I thank the Lin family on behalf of those refugees."
Lin Yan'an simply waved his folding fan and smiled, saying, "You flatter me, sir. This is what I should do."
His complexion had improved considerably; he was no longer as pale as before and had returned to his usual young master appearance.
Jiang Yimian was somewhat surprised to see Lin Yan'an so at ease in front of Song Quanzhao.
She thought he was just a rich young master, but she never expected him to be so shrewd. He really is a family that has been in business for generations.
The guilt and embarrassment she felt vanished instantly. If she hadn't accepted them, the herbs together would still have been worth a lot of money, and they might have had to be handed over instead of falling into the hands of the refugees.
In this way, it's a good thing that all the things in the mountain stronghold can be distributed among the refugees.
As they were talking, Zhao Da also came down from the mountain with a large group of people, mostly young women, with only a few men, who should be from the Lin family.
"Sir, these young women were all kidnapped by bandits from nearby villages. They ran up the mountain when they saw the village on fire, and they were unharmed."
Xiao Tao hid in the crowd, glanced at the bandits with a strange look, and then looked away, only to see Jiang Yimian.
Jiang Yimian also saw her, but she glanced at her lightly and then looked away.
Xiao Tao was startled, and quickly lowered her head.
Song Quanzhao carefully examined the people in front of him for a while before saying to them, "Don't worry, everyone, I will have someone send you home."
Upon hearing this, several younger girls immediately lowered their heads and began to sob. Their previously tense emotions instantly relaxed, and many of them hugged each other and cried, sobbing, "We can go home now."
The officers and soldiers, who had been looking serious, couldn't help but get excited at the sight and cursed the bandits in their hearts.
Song Quanzhao instructed Zhao Da and his group to take the girls to the yamen first, and then let them leave after he had asked them some questions.
As for the bandits, he ordered them to be escorted back in batches. Those with serious crimes were beheaded, while those with minor crimes were sent to do hard labor.
Seeing that the matter was settled, Lin Yan'an nodded to Jiang Yimian and then left with the rest of the Lin family.
The village quickly quieted down, and everyone except a few who stayed behind to protect Song Quanzhao left.
Seeing that it was completely dark, Song Quanzhao said, "Ma Ming, you take Miss Jiang back later."
Just as Ma Ming was about to respond, Jiang Yimian withdrew her gaze from looking around, smiled and waved her hand, "Thank you, sir. I am familiar with the mountains, so I won't trouble you, Constable Ma. The bandits have all been captured by the yamen, and I am relieved. However, I would like to borrow your torch, Constable Ma."
Ma Ming looked at Song Quanzhao, and only after seeing the other party nod did he hand over the torch.
"I'll have to trouble Miss Jiang to take care of Zhang Li for a while. There's a lot going on at the yamen lately, so it'll probably be a while before we can pick him up."
Jiang Yimian responded without saying much. Just as she was about to carry the torch up the mountain, she suddenly remembered something.
After hesitating for a moment, she turned to look at Song Quanzhao.
"I have a favor to ask of you, sir."
Song Quanzhao was taken aback, and quickly said, "Please speak, Miss Jiang."
Jiang Yimian then said, "My father disappeared half a year ago and his whereabouts are still unknown. My elder brother was also taken away by the court for conscription shortly after my father's disappearance. I heard that the war has recently ended. Could you help me find my elder brother and father?"
It's hard to say whether she'll have a chance to see the magistrate again in the future, but this is a good opportunity. She can help the yamen get rid of the bandits, and the magistrate will probably help her find the people out of consideration for her.
Although Wang Fengqin and her two little ones rarely mentioned their father and older brother, she could tell that they missed them very much.
Occasionally, Wang Fengqin could be seen staring blankly at the two men's clothes. Everyone in the family treated her very well, and she didn't want to see them sad or upset.
Moreover, she remembered that the two of them were very kind to the original owner of this body, which she actually envied.
Song Quanzhao was taken aback, and after carefully asking about the names and physical characteristics of the two women, he said, "Miss Jiang, rest assured, I will do my best in this matter."
Jiang Yimian responded, thanked them, and then walked up the mountain with the torch in her hand.
She stopped halfway up the mountain, looking at the burned-down houses in the village, and felt a pang of emotion.
The bandits are gone, and so is Xinghua Village.
Although her fire did not injure anyone, because most of the houses in the village were thatched, the fire spread quickly in the wind. Even though the government officials put out the fire in time, many houses were still burned down.
Several mud-brick walls were burned black, and the thatched roofs had long since disappeared, making it uninhabitable for the time being.
Moreover, Xinghua Village has been occupied by mountain bandits for too long, and several roads around it are blocked by mud and sand. It will take a long time to clear them. It is probably not realistic for the government to actually drive the refugees in to live there.
Given the inconvenient transportation and the lingering shadow of bandits, it's likely that local people won't be accommodated here for the time being.
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