But who would listen to him? They all surged out, their eyes wide with anger, running in the rain, chasing after the disaster relief team.
"Hey! Quick, stop them! Don't let them charge!"
The old magistrate had difficulty walking, so the county clerk gritted his teeth and ordered the yamen runners to take fire and water sticks and immediately go after them.
For a moment, only Lu Zhaochuan remained in the hall, looking bewildered. Had he made a mistake by asking those wealthy merchants to release grain?
They hadn't gone far when the angry crowd caught up with them.
"Sir, something's wrong!"
The cavalry immediately became alert; they numbered only fifty riders, and if they were surrounded, the consequences would be unimaginable.
"How dare you offend an official appointed by the imperial court! Do you intend to rebel?"
"My lord, the most urgent thing is to leave first."
The steward glared and his face turned pale with anger.
The cavalry immediately accelerated, and the civilians behind them, who were about to catch up, were left far behind again in the blink of an eye, filled with resentment.
"You corrupt official! You embezzled our grain and fed us bran!"
"Stop right there!"
Amidst shouts of "corrupt official!", the group fled in disarray. Fortunately, they had fast horses and soon arrived at the city gate.
The teahouse behind the gate tower, its second floor now glowing with light.
A young man dressed in white gently waved a folding fan as he looked down at the cavalry from the window.
The steward was still vehemently criticizing when he suddenly raised his head.
Their eyes met through the rain, then quickly looked away.
Unlike his ferocious face, the steward's eyes held no anger whatsoever; they were as cold and still as a stagnant pool...
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