As the youngest brother in the family, Changyan was not as gentle and attentive as his older brothers were to Jiang Sheng, but they still loved him from the bottom of their hearts.
Now that he's making such a mournful cry outside, even if it's a mountain of knives and a sea of fire, let alone a possible conspiracy, I have to go.
"Fifth Brother!"
Jiang Sheng cried out, grabbed two dried green beans, and rushed outside.
Fang Heng picked up his wood-chopping knife and followed closely behind his sister.
He opened the door and rushed over without hesitation.
After that, it became quiet outside.
The eight servants looked at each other, hesitated for only a moment, and then jumped out as well.
They were servants trained by Fang Heng, greenhorns trained with an iron fist. Although they knew the other side might be a trap, since the Third Young Master had gone, they had to go too.
This is training; this is following the rules, ingrained in one's very being.
However, when they actually rushed outside, they were dumbfounded.
Jiang Sheng, who was holding dried green beans, and Fang Heng, who was carrying a wood-chopping knife, were also dumbfounded.
There was no scene of someone being hurt during the long banquet, not even a long banquet, only a mess on the ground, strangers groaning in pain, and a thin, shrewd middle-aged man.
He seemed to enjoy the children's shocked expressions, and suddenly opened his mouth, calling out in perfect imitation, "Third Brother."
Chang Yan's voice and tone did not belong to him.
Jiang Sheng's eyes widened; she thought she had seen a ghost.
Fang Heng suddenly remembered an article he had read in his childhood: "In the capital there was a skilled ventriloquist..."
We've been tricked; this is a conspiracy.
Fang Heng reacted quickly and rushed over to subdue the thin, shrewd middle-aged man, but the man noticed and turned to run away.
All that remained was a scene of utter chaos and a dozen or so injured people groaning in pain.
Passersby who saw this were startled, covered their mouths, dared not make a sound, and hurriedly left.
It seems there's no way to clear his name of this armed conflict charge.
Fang Heng's face was gloomy, blaming himself for being too impulsive and giving his opponent an opportunity.
Jiang Sheng noticed this and gently shook his sleeve. "It's alright, Third Brother. Fifth Brother once said, 'There's no such thing as a thief who can be a thief for a thousand days, but there's no such thing as a thief who can be a thief for a thousand days.'"
If Prefect He wants to convict them, he will find an opportunity sooner or later.
It might not be today, but it could be tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow.
Fang Heng's face was gloomy, and he hadn't even had a chance to speak yet.
A series of orderly footsteps sounded.
Looking up, I saw Prefect He leading a dozen or so yamen runners to the front of the Zanhua Courtyard, staring expressionlessly at the mess on the ground.
The leader was Yuan, a yamen runner they knew well. He kept winking at them as he watched this scene, probably hoping they would send someone to call for reinforcements.
However, under the laws of the Dayu Dynasty, no one could come to their rescue.
Rules are rules, and laws are laws. Those who make mistakes must accept punishment and bear the consequences of their errors.
Fang Heng's lips suddenly curled up, revealing a disdainful smile.
"Do you know your mistake?" the clerk brought by Prefect He roared. "A brawl broke out in the city, and so many people were injured. Do you know your mistake?"
"What are you saying, sir? I don't understand." Fang Heng looked up in surprise.
The clerk's face darkened, and he pointed at him, saying, "You troublemaker! There are witnesses and physical evidence to prove your innocence. You still want to deny it? Fighting in the street is a serious crime."
"I don't quite agree with what you're saying, sir," Fang Heng said with a slight smile. "We were just checking our own doorstep, how did that become a street brawl?"
The advisor was surprised by the children's tenacity and his face turned as black as the bottom of a pot. "Who was checking the door with a knife? And what a coincidence that you opened the door with a knife and found a bunch of people lying on the ground outside?"
“Yes,” Fang Heng said, looking puzzled. “I’m curious too.”
The advisor, “…”
Seeing that the topic was getting further and further off track, Prefect He coughed, interrupting them.
"Sir, these commoners are fighting in the street but deny it. Let's take them back to jail and interrogate them slowly," the clerk suggested, bowing.
Prefect He nodded with a stern face.
Seeing that more than a dozen constables were about to rush up and arrest the man, Constable Yuan looked regretful and helpless.
"Wait a minute."
Fang Hengcai was not afraid of them. He stopped the constables and asked, "Sir, what makes you so sure we were fighting? We were just exercising and did not fight. We didn't injure these people."
After he finished speaking, he threw the wood-chopping knife in his hand on the ground. "If you don't believe me, sir, you can check whether our knives can make such sharp wounds."
The advisor was taken aback, and Prefect He's face darkened.
They were not stupid; on the contrary, they were quite clever. The moment Fang Heng threw the knife, they realized that the children were probably on guard.
But the advisor was not giving up. He rushed forward, picked up the long sword, and tested it with his hand, his sleeve, and even his hair, but it was completely unharmed.
This long sword is clearly unsharpened; it might kill someone by its weight, but it certainly wouldn't cut a sharp wound.
The advisor glanced around at the dozen or so wounded men covered in blood on the ground, then loosened his grip, and the long sword clattered to the ground once more.
It produces a crisp and pleasant sound.
"My lord, you are the magistrate of Anshui County, a just and upright official. Before you do anything, you must find the evidence. You cannot harm innocent people so easily." Fang Heng bowed.
The moment he raised his head, his eyes met those of Prefect He, and he showed no fear whatsoever.
Yuan, the constable standing to the side, was full of praise, almost jumping up and clapping. Brilliant, truly brilliant.
The only ones who were truly heavy-hearted were the advisor and Prefect He.
The eight-foot-tall official sized Fang Heng up and down, then suddenly let out a cold laugh, "Good, very good."
I thought it would be a simple task, but it turned out to be so tricky.
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