"The Shen siblings..." Provincial Surveillance Commissioner Zhou Huanzhi narrowed his eyes menacingly, his voice low and cold, "What do you think are the chances that they will cover for us?"
The hall was deathly silent, as if even the air had frozen.
A light clinking of teacups came from the corner, startling a young official so much that he almost slipped off his chair.
He looked up in terror, his eyes filled with fear, yet he dared not utter a sound.
Everyone unanimously thought of the day Shen Jintang first arrived, when she directly beheaded someone with her sword, leaving blood everywhere.
How could someone so ruthless and decisive, who cannot tolerate any wrongdoing, possibly cover for them?
It was only because Shen Jintang was in a good mood that day that he didn't kill them all one by one.
"Zheng—"
Suddenly, a crisp sound rang out, and a dagger was plunged straight into the table, gleaming coldly in the candlelight.
Zhou Huanzhi spoke in a sinister tone, reminding everyone, "Do you all still remember that head of the Grand Canal Transport Office?"
He lightly stroked the blade with his fingertips, his voice tinged with cruelty: "He only embezzled a few ships' worth of disaster relief grain, yet Shen Jintang pierced his heart with a sword right there in the street, his blood splattering three zhang away."
His gaze swept over the crowd, as if searching for their reactions.
Zhao Dequan's fat trembled, and cold sweat seeped from the back of his official robe.
“That day…that day I was there. Shen Jintang was carrying a blood-stained sword, questioning each of the officials present, and his eyes…” His Adam’s apple bobbed, “He looked just like a judge in the underworld.”
“Shen Huaixu is not someone to be trifled with either,” Liu Wenqian suddenly interjected, his voice tense. “Last month, during the inspection of the river works materials, I merely wanted to do him a favor…”
He loosened his collar, revealing a bruise on his neck. "That madman had his subordinates hold a knife to my throat and said, 'If the size is off by even a fraction of an inch, I'll take your head.'"
Openly pleading for leniency won't work, but what if we falsify accounts to deceive them?
Everyone couldn't help but think of this method.
But at that moment, a "click" sound came from the corner. The young official's teacup lid kept tapping against the rim of the cup, and his hands were trembling uncontrollably.
Zhou Huanzhi glared at him suddenly, startling the man so much that he collapsed to the ground: "This...this official was just thinking about...the way Shen Jintang looked when she was checking the accounts..."
All the officials in the hall shuddered, and something flashed through their minds.
Who doesn't remember the methods that female Yama used to investigate accounts?
She led the craftsmen to measure the granary, compared the silver with the account books, and the abacus beads rattled louder than the executioner's cleaver.
There was a granary official who embezzled thirty bushels of rice. She stripped him of his official robes in public and tied him up in front of the yamen to dry for three days.
Everyone closed their eyes involuntarily. Were they just supposed to wait to die like this?
"Oh!"
Zhou Huanzhi suddenly sneered, pulled out the dagger, and patted it lightly in his palm.
“Since reasoning with them won’t work…” He looked around at everyone, his eyes flashing with a fierce light, and said, “Then let them stay in Yanzhou forever.”
His voice echoed in the hall, and the dangerous idea sent chills down the spines of everyone present.
This is tantamount to murdering an imperial envoy!
"Are you crazy!" Zhao Dequan was so frightened he almost bit his tongue. His obese body trembled slightly as he reminded him, "That's an official appointed by the imperial court..."
"So what if I'm an official appointed by the imperial court?" Zhou Huanzhi slammed the dagger into the table, the blade vibrating as if responding to his anger and unease.
“It’s perfectly normal for one or two officials to die during disaster relief! Take them for example…” He revealed a sinister smile, a hint of ruthlessness in his eyes, and continued, “They unfortunately fell victim to a mob attack.”
The air inside the hall seemed to freeze instantly, as if even time itself had stopped flowing.
The teacup in Liu Wenqian's hand shattered on the ground with a "crack," spilling tea everywhere, but no one bothered to reprimand him.
His voice trembled slightly: "But they all have experts around them! Shen Jintang's maid, Xinghui, just last month snapped the necks of three assassins with her bare hands. And Shen Huaixu's guard, Shishu..."
“So we have to outsmart them.” Zhou Huanzhi pulled a porcelain bottle from his sleeve. The white glaze gleamed with an eerie bluish light, clearly indicating its extraordinary value. He just didn’t know what was inside.
His voice was low and cold as he said, "A banquet will be held in three days."
He drew his dagger, its cold gleam reflecting on his狰狞 (zhengning, meaning ferocious or hideous) face. "Just say... it's a victory celebration."
He then gently shook the porcelain bottle, his eyes turning sinister and vicious, and said, "Let them taste what it means to have water that is too clear and therefore devoid of fish."
“But…” Zhao Dequan wanted to say something, but then he saw Zhou Huanzhi take out a secret letter from his sleeve and casually throw it in front of him. “Shen Huaixu is already investigating last year’s disaster relief funds.”
Are you still going to sit here and wait to die?
This sentence became the last straw that broke the camel's back.
Zhao Dequan picked up the secret letter with trembling hands, his fat face shaking uncontrollably.
They made a lot of money last year, and the shoddy construction of the Yellow River project led to the Yellow River breach, which is inextricably linked to them.
If this is investigated, none of them will escape!
Zhao Dequan's obese body slumped down, his fat face trembling uncontrollably: "Then... let's do it this way."
The candlelight in the room suddenly flickered, casting the officials' distorted shadows on the wall, making them appear indistinct.
The hall was deathly silent, save for Zhou Huanzhi's chilling laughter that echoed through the air.
Three days later, in the west of the city.
Since the availability of clean water, the illnesses of the sick people have been well controlled, and with timely medication, the epidemic has been gradually suppressed.
The security measures in the quarantine zone gradually loosened, but since there was no explicit order from above, the lockdown remained in place.
But the people inside the quarantine zone stopped clamoring to leave. After all, they could live well anywhere, so why run around aimlessly?
Shen Huaixu chose a sunny afternoon to personally enter the quarantine zone to find Shen Jintang.
Golden sunlight streamed through the sparse clouds, bathing the simple houses in the quarantine zone in a gentle, warm glow.
Shen Huaixu walked slowly along the rammed earth road, the laughter of the people echoing in his ears.
He casually stopped a child carrying a pottery jar and asked, "Where is Lord Siyan?" The child eagerly pointed to a threshing ground to the west, his eyes full of admiration.
After passing a few thatched huts, Shen Huaixu suddenly stopped.
Under the old locust tree at the edge of the threshing ground, Shen Jintang was lying on a simple bamboo chair, basking in the sun.
She wore a plain white dress, and sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on her, as if draping her in a golden veil, giving her a casual look.
Her eyes were closed, her long eyelashes casting a faint shadow on her face, and the corners of her mouth held a subtle smile.
A gentle breeze swept by, lifting a few stray strands of her hair before letting them fall softly back down, as if even the wind was carefully protecting her tranquility.
Shen Huaixu stood there, quietly watching her, a feeling of warmth that was hard to describe welling up in his heart.
At this moment, she seemed to merge with the tranquil afternoon, and all her fatigue and unease quietly dissipated.
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