Chapter 13 Pei Ji
In the carriage, Old Chu caught a glimpse of the Imperial College students still besieging Miss Luo. He rapped his knuckles against the window frame, "Gossiping behind someone's back is already unethical, but now they're resorting to violence. Have you lost all the books on sages?"
"Xiuzhe, go and take care of it!"
"yes."
When the attendant lifted the curtain, a gust of sandalwood incense came up, and the young man's movement of bending down to get out of the car caused the mutton-fat jade pendant on his waist to shake.
He raised his hand to rub his temples, the remnants of last night's dreams lingering in his mind like vines - the plain-dressed woman kneeling in front of the stone steps of the Dali Temple, the curses of the onlookers, and the wronged figure whose face he could never see.
"Young Master?" Jiang Xi handed over the refreshing sachet.
Pei Ji waved his hand to push it away, and the hem of his dark blue brocade robe swept across the shaft of the carriage.
When he stood up straight, the tiredness in his eyes and brows had completely disappeared, leaving only the usual coldness and solemnity of the Junior Secretary of the Dali Temple.
Sun Honglei was spitting at the other end, "Women should stay at home embroidering. Why are they joining in the fun at the Imperial College?"
“Bang!”
Suddenly, a whip cracked in the air, startling the sparrows in the treetops and sending them flying. Luo Zhaohan, his fingertips entwined with the black-gold horsewhip, raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Master Sun, continue. I'm listening."
Only then did everyone notice that she had a nine-section steel whip wrapped around her waist, with barbs on the end.
Sun Honglei was about to speak with his neck stiffened when he suddenly heard a regular inhalation sound behind him.
"Master Pei!"
The young men who were so arrogant just now suddenly became half a head shorter.
Luo Jince tugged at his sister's sleeve and lowered his voice: "Sister, this is the Shaoqing of the Dali Temple, our teaching assistant!"
Luo Zhaohan's fingertips trembled, and the steel whip "clicked" and wrapped around his waist.
How could she not recognize this face?
In his previous life, on the day the Luo Mansion collapsed, it was this cold-faced Yama Luo who arrived with instruments of torture. Back then, his official robes were stained with blood, and the cinnabar mole between his eyebrows was dazzlingly bright. He looked completely different from the elegant and refined figure he now slowly approached.
Pei Ji's gaze swept across the crowd, pausing briefly at Luo Zhaohan's slender waist, where the steel whip was wrapped around it. Sun Honglei's forehead was sweating, and he bowed with a stiff upper lip. "Students are discussing the Dao."
"Discussing the Dao?" Pei Ji's voice seemed to have been soaked through a cold pond. "I heard someone discussing what kind of flowers a woman should embroider." He raised his hand and stroked the jade pendant at his waist, shocking Sun Honglei so much that his knees went weak - it was none other than the Xiezhi Ling who was in charge of the prison.
Luo Zhaohan lowered her eyes and stared at the ants struggling in the cracks of the bluestone slabs. In her previous life, on a chilly spring morning like this, she knelt in front of the Dali Temple, holding a petition.
Blood flowed down the steps, and rotten vegetable leaves from the onlookers hit their backs, but the vermilion gate remained closed.
"Miss Luo."
The cold voice startled her and she looked up suddenly, her gaze meeting Pei Ji's deep eyes. He held the pearl earring that had just been squeezed off in his fingertips, and handed it to her as if he were interrogating a criminal: "Return it to its original owner."
Luo Zhaohan reached out to take it, and the moment their fingertips touched, memories of his past life came flooding back - when he was writing down the confession in the torture chamber, the cinnabar from the tip of the pen dripped onto the rice paper, spreading like blood; when he bent down in the imperial prison to pick up her scattered jade hairpin, his face was also expressionless.
"Thank you, sir." She heard her voice become hoarse, like a rusty knife being sharpened on a stone.
Luo Zhaohan's fingertips still retained the coldness of his previous life.
The coldness of the bluestone bricks in front of the Dali Temple that day, mixed with the sour smell of rotten vegetable leaves, seemed to reach my nose again.
"Miss Luo?"
Sun Honglei's sneer brought her back to the present.
The young dandy's brocade boots rolled over the broken porcelain on the ground. The python pattern embroidered with gold thread was stained with tea, like a dying snake.
"You want me to apologize? You don't deserve it!"
Pei Ji's crimson official uniform flashed by, and in the shadow cast by the ebony pillars, the silver fish talisman on his waist hit the scabbard, and the clinking sound startled Sun Honglei so much that he took half a step back.
"Quick, apologize to Miss Luo."
These words overlapped with the voice in my memory.
Luo Zhaohan suddenly looked up, and vaguely saw that day's blood-stained vision again, the crimson official robe burning through the haze like a blazing flame. At this moment, Pei Ji stood at the steps, the spring sun gilding his jade waist belt with a layer of gold.
Sun Honglei's Adam's apple rolled, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped his folding fan. "Master Pei, are you trying to use your power to intimidate others?"
"If Young Master Sun feels wronged," Pei Ji's fingertips brushed the tassel of the sword, "you may ask my master, Master Chu, to judge the matter."
The corner of the curtain of the green carriage moved slightly, revealing half of a bamboo-green sleeve.
The young men who were so arrogant just now suddenly became half a head shorter. Cold sweat broke out on Sun Honglei's forehead - the cloud pattern embroidered with silver thread on the cuffs was exactly the pattern used by the imperial teacher Chu Lao!
"My student has been disrespectful." Sun Honglei suddenly bowed deeply to the ground, the hem of his brocade robe brushing against the lotus flowers embroidered on Luo Zhaohan's shoes. "Please forgive me, Miss Luo."
Luo Zhaohan looked at the golden crown on his head and suddenly found it funny.
It turns out that they are all guys who bully the weak and fear the strong!
"Mr. Sun, you're too kind." She gave him a light support, her fingertips barely brushing the gold thread on his sleeve. "It was just a verbal dispute."
This was said cleverly, as it saved the young men's face while also implying that they had lost their manners by arguing with women.
A hint of inquiry flashed across Pei Ji's eyes, but disappeared in an instant.
When Sun Honglei stood up, his face had changed to a gentle one: "Miss Luo is so magnanimous. I will come to apologize to you another day."
"No need." Luo Zhaohan interrupted and waved his hand. The young men felt as if they had been pardoned. Before leaving, Sun Honglei gave Luo Zhaohan a deep look.
That gaze was like a poisoned arrow, but she seemed unaware of it, and only stared at the hem of Pei Ji's official robe - there was a magnolia petal stained there, which gradually overlapped with the blood-stained tip of his boot in his previous life.
At that time, she knelt in the snow, holding the petition for the execution of the entire Luo family.
That day, Pei Ji came, trampling over the filth in the street. His crimson official robe brushed across her frozen fingertips, and he left behind a sentence: "Justice is in the hearts of the people, I will help you."
Sun Honglei hurried along amidst the swaying shadows of the trees, clutching his red, swollen nose. Several of his followers chased him, questioning him and startling the sparrows perched on the branches.
"Brother Hong Lei, are we in trouble at the hands of Miss Luo?" The round-faced boy caught up with him, holding an anti-swelling ointment.
Sun Honglei kicked a stone, scaring the koi in the pond and scattering them: "Shut up!" Before he could finish his words, the wound was moved and he grimaced in pain.
The companions were trying so hard to hold back their laughter that their shoulders were shaking. Someone muttered, "Sister Luo is so powerful when she cracks the whip."
"Bullshit!" Sun Honglei's ears flushed red as he grabbed the ointment and stuffed it into his nostrils. "That tigress was so vicious! No wonder General Xie wanted to break off the engagement!"
Over here, Luo Zhaohan stared at Pei Ji, the morning mist condensing into tiny beads on his dark blue official robes. Memories of past lives surged back: in the moonlight filtering through the iron bars of the imperial prison, this man had once slipped her half a piece of hard biscuit; in the snow-covered execution ground, it was this figure who had stood before the executioner's ghost-headed knife.
"Master Pei." She called again.
Pei Ji paused slightly, the corner of his robe brushing against the still-dry dew on the bluestone slabs. "Miss Luo, is there anything else?"
"Thank you for your help today, sir. If you need help investigating the case, sir." Her fingertips stroked the handle of the steel whip. The image of his broken arm covered in blood in his previous life lingered in her mind. "I'm a fast runner."
"First, you should thank my master instead of me. Second, the Dali Temple has no shortage of yamen runners." When Pei Ji turned around, the Xiezhi token on his waist flashed with a cold light.
But after taking ten steps, he suddenly stopped and threw a small porcelain bottle from his sleeve: "It's for removing blood stasis."
Luo Zhaohan caught the still-warm medicine bottle. In the distance, Luo Jince's wailing could be heard: "Sister! I promise I'll never fight with anyone again!"
Turning around, he saw his younger brother being scolded by Ye Yiheng by pulling his ears, and he couldn't help but chuckle.
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