Yin Zhe remained calm and said, "What is Your Highness saying? I don't understand."
Qin Zhaoyue pouted and muttered under her breath, "Anyone who doesn't understand is a dog."
Thirteen Aunt's fist hardened.
"We've already exchanged sweet words and held hands, so what, Lord Hidden Insect, are you planning to go back on your word?"
"This is my personal matter, Your Highness need not trouble yourself."
"Hey," Qin Zhaoyue waved her hand, "No need to bother, I'm just bored anyway, might as well chat?"
Yin Zhe ignored her, and as a result, she kept bothering him.
I couldn't hit him, so I just said a few words offhand.
It turns out that Douzhan's father was a veteran executioner, which is why he inherited the craft.
However, he later suffered retaliation; this strong, burly man was brutally murdered.
Dou Zhan suffered this misfortune and disappeared after the seventh day after his death.
I spent half a year finding out who did it.
In one night, the entire family of fourteen was slaughtered.
This was a crime punishable by death, but by chance, he was spotted by Yin Zhe and imprisoned.
He then rose step by step to become a centurion, until he completely took control of the Netherworld.
In just a few words, Dou Zhan's life story was told, leaving Qin Zhaoyue with a look of disgust.
"If you were to write or draw a book or something, you would definitely lose everything. This story needs to be embellished."
For example, Dou Zhan was originally quite talented, but due to a sudden change of events, he gave up the path of the imperial examination.
For example, the inner struggle after a misfortune, and the love that blossoms after you redeemed her.
However, he was insecure and buried his feelings deep in his heart, coupled with the fact that he had been in a place like a prison for a long time.
Over time, a twisted possessiveness developed in my heart...
"stop!"
Yin Zhe couldn't listen to it anymore and immediately called for a stop.
"Okay, let's leave this topic at that."
"Who do you think you are? How dare you defy the demands of a dignified princess like myself..."
She couldn't hear what came after that. Qin Zhaoyue noticed that her mouth was still opening and closing, but she wasn't making a sound.
Damn it! It's only because her cultivation level isn't high enough right now, otherwise she wouldn't be being bullied like this.
Neither of them paid any attention to the other; one was dozing off in a chair, while the other stood in the corner with his eyes closed, resting.
As night fell, the Jingzhao Prefecture, which had been bustling all day, finally concluded all the cases.
Human traffickers and loan sharks are villains that the people deeply hate.
More than thirty cases were concluded in one go, and even those with insufficient evidence were all convicted, with no one escaping punishment.
"Your Honor, the Upright Official!"
Someone knelt down at the entrance of the yamen, which triggered a chain reaction; everyone else knelt down in unison, loudly praising:
"Your Honor, the Upright Official!"
Prefect Deng Hongyi hurriedly stood up, but suddenly stumbled and only managed to steady himself by bracing himself against the desk.
It's been a whole day; how long has it been since he's worked at such a high intensity?
But I also felt truly happy!
The position of Prefect of Jingzhao is truly difficult to hold; under the emperor's nose, everyone has to give him some face.
Deng Hongyi has been in office for eight years and has become increasingly adept at handling affairs, taking the doctrine of the mean to its extreme.
Hearing the praises from the people outside the door, he felt extremely ashamed.
All the clues and evidence were provided by the Xuanji Guard; the Jingzhao Prefecture was only responsible for arresting the people.
Many of them were even secretly controlled by the Xuanji Guard, allowing the yamen runners to capture so many criminals without suffering any losses.
As the Prefect of the Capital, he simply reviewed each case file one by one.
A just and upright official... he doesn't deserve such praise.
Deng Hongyi eased his legs and walked step by step to the door, looking at the people kneeling in a row.
Among them were young children and elderly people with gray hair, their chests aching and unbearable, as if a stone were lodged in them.
Back then, he was full of vigor and determined to clean up official corruption, but so many years have passed, what has he accomplished?
After dusting off his sleeves, Deng Hongyi bowed deeply.
"Everyone, please go back."
Without waiting for anyone's reaction, he walked towards the back hall, looking somewhat desolate.
Fengjing is bustling today.
I heard early this morning that Helian Chaolu, a noblewoman from the border region, had a new work and even compared it to many talented women in the capital. Regardless of whether they were scholars or not, everyone was discussing it enthusiastically.
Not long after, I heard that the Jingzhao Prefecture had a major case to be tried today, all of which were cases involving human traffickers and usurious debtors, which were hated by the people.
In the afternoon, dozens of shops were shut down and hundreds of people were arrested.
That evening, rumors spread through the gambling dens in various neighborhoods that odds had been set for the provincial examination rankings, and that several new games were being offered.
If you spend a hundred or two hundred coins and guess the order of the rankings correctly, you can even earn hundreds or thousands of times more.
The entire city of Fengjing was in an uproar.
The noise subsided around midnight.
As the night deepens and the dew grows heavier, the chill of autumn quietly spreads.
The underground prison of the Penitentiary was shrouded in darkness, its damp, cold stone walls gleaming with a dim light.
The air was thick with the smells of rust, mildew, and despair; every breath felt sticky and heavy.
Deep inside the passageway, the only source of light was the dim, flickering yellow oil lamp in the jailer's hand.
The distorted shadow was stretched out and projected onto the filthy wall, like a ghost.
Qin Wenyuan, the Imperial Household Supervisor, a high-ranking official of the imperial family with royal blood flowing through his veins, quietly entered the dungeon.
He was wrapped in a dark, inconspicuous cloak, with the brim pulled down very low, covering most of his face, revealing only his tightly pursed thin lips and jawline.
His steps were heavy, and the soles of his boots were stained with the filth of the lowest level of the place.
The prison warden, hunched over, dared not utter a sound, silently leading the way.
Water droplets fell from somewhere, their "tap-tap" sound echoing along with his deliberately light footsteps, adding to the deathly silence.
Finally, the jailer stopped in front of a narrow cell at the very back.
The iron bars were as thick as a child's arm, icy cold, and the light from the oil lamp barely penetrated, illuminating the figure huddled in the corner.
"At most, the time it takes for an incense stick to burn."
The jailer unlocked the door, keeping his head down and not looking at the figure behind him at all.
He spent a lot of money to bribe the officials, and the only requirement was that they not look at anything or ask anything.
He deliberately brought his men in through the back door, keeping his word, and indeed did not inquire about anything. He only whispered a single instruction:
"People cannot die."
Receiving no response and without pressing further, the jailer left the dim oil lamp and strode out.
I've lived here for half my life, and I wouldn't run into anyone even with my eyes closed.
Inside the prison cell was Jiang Jinxiao, the once spirited Junior Officer of the Ministry of Civil Affairs, who was just one step away from becoming the head of the Six Ministries.
But at this moment, he was emaciated, disheveled, and his prison uniform was tattered and covered in blood and filth, making it almost impossible to recognize him.
He sat leaning against the cold stone wall, his hands and feet in heavy shackles, his exposed skin covered with old and new scars.
Hearing the noise, he slowly raised his head. His eyes, however, did not dim completely. Instead, they shone brightly in the dim light, like the sharp edge of a icy blade, piercing straight at the visitor outside the fence.
There was no surprise whatsoever, only a calm acceptance.
Qin Wenyuan, the Junior Supervisor of the Imperial Household Department, opened the prison door and stepped inside.
Their eyes met, and a deep smile tugged at the corners of Jiang Jinxiao's lips...
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
