Chapter 81 Brother Song Mingde (Corrected)
It doesn't look like it.
Wen Yao moved his foot, slowly moving it to the man's face, stepping down mercilessly, saying, "Song Duce is indeed fierce. But I have already beaten you, so let me finish this beating first, and then I will let you go. You can find whoever you need to find, do whatever you need to do, and see if I am afraid of you."
The man was stunned, unable to believe what he was hearing. He used to act like a tyrant, and no matter who was on the other side, they would retreat in fear at the mention of Song Mingde, the governor. He had never encountered a situation like this before.
He mumbled, "W-what..." Midway through his sentence, Wen Yao reached down, grabbed him by the collar, and punched him hard in the face. His nose was broken, and the blood flowed even more violently. In the intense pain and fear, the man burst into tears, his thighs trembling, and a stream of foul-smelling liquid flowed from them.
I was so scared that I peed my pants.
Wen Yao shoved him four meters away with a palm strike, tilted his head, and signaled him to get out. The lackeys around him, who were hesitant to move forward, took advantage of this opportunity and immediately surrounded him, grabbed the man and ran away, disappearing without a trace.
Hao Chunhe walked up to Wen Yao, a little worried: "He just said that Governor Song -"
"It's okay." Song Mingde stood by and continued to beat him. Wen Yao pulled his hand away and patted off the dusty shoe prints on his body.
She didn't ask Hao Chunhe why he didn't take action just now. She just looked at He Niang, whose hair was slightly messy, and said with a slightly comforting smile: "Boss, it's been a long time since we last met. Do you still remember me?"
He Niang hadn't yet recovered from her intense emotion; her arms and teeth were trembling, probably from anger. She turned to look at Wen Yao and forced a smile, "Of course I remember. Including this time, the young lady has assaulted someone twice in my shop. Thank you for your bravery today. I'm afraid that guy just now was someone with some background. To avoid getting you into trouble, you should leave quickly."
After that, she looked at Hao Chunhe again: "Chun Yanzi, you go too!"
At this moment, the soldiers guarding the Ghost Market arrived late. The leader walked hurriedly, his face unhappy, and stumbling behind him was the man who had just left.
"It seems that my punch wasn't strong enough." Wen Yao said slowly, "You dare to come back?"
"Master Jia, this is the man!" Blood foam flew out of the man's mouth, his face ferocious. "Catch them all! Don't let any of them go!"
Lord Jia, whom he relied on very much, rushed over with his men in a majestic manner. When he saw Wen Yao and Zhao Xuanxu, his eyes stayed on Zhao Xuanxu. After a moment, his knees softened and he knelt down with a thud.
"Yan, Yan, Yan..." Lord Jia prostrated himself on the ground, his tongue tied and sweat dripping down his face.
"Sir?" The man was dumbfounded: "You——"
He took a moment to react, looking at Lord Jia and then at Zhao Xuanxu. Suddenly, a flash of light flashed through his mind, which had been paralyzed by the chaos of wine and meat. He realized that he had met a tough opponent. He couldn't catch his breath, and the pain from the wounds on his body increased. He felt dizzy and fell to his knees.
Okay, now both of them are kneeling on the ground, looking neat and tidy.
"Take him to the East Prison." Zhao Xuanxu said this without even raising his eyelids.
A group of people dressed in black, their faces covered in black cloth, suddenly gathered around the street. Qianying was the leader. He grabbed a rag from who knows where and threw it at the man. Together with another secret guard, he pulled him up and led him away. Wen Yao couldn't see Qianying's face, but just by looking at his movements, he could sense the disgust he felt.
Lord Jia, who remained where he was, finally spoke out with trembling teeth: "Your Highness Prince Yan! Your Highness, spare me! I, I didn't know it was Your Highness, Your Highness, spare me!"
His fear was too obvious and too strong.
This Lord Jia had once served in the Twelve Armies and had witnessed Zhao Xuanxu skinning people, stringing them on bamboo poles, slowly draining the blood, and drying them in the sun until they were half a man's height, withered corpses. Thinking back on it now, the overwhelming stench still lingered in his nose.
How could he not be afraid?
Zhao Xuanxu pretended not to hear him and didn't look at him. He lowered his head to check the wound on the back of Wen Yao's hand.
After listening to the general idea, He Niang vaguely guessed Zhao Xuanxu's identity, opened her mouth slightly but was unable to speak.
Wen Yao pulled his hand out and walked over to her: "Don't worry, this matter is over. From now on, you can go about your business in peace, just like before. No one will bother you."
"Thank you so much, young lady." He Niang frowned, her lips curved into a smile, her eyes reddening slightly, her voice choking. She was no ordinary woman, having come all the way from Yongzhou to open a restaurant in the ghost market of Bianliang. But she couldn't resist the man who had just claimed to be connected to the factory supervisor and insisted on taking her as his ninth concubine. In just a few moments, she had already decided to pack up and sell off her shop belongings, splitting up with her staff and leaving Bianliang.
"What are you thanking me for?" Wen Yao knew how much He Niang had taken care of Hao Chunhe over the years.
Back then, Hao Chun and a little old man, disheartened and desperate, had returned from the Western Dynasty, traveling thousands of miles to Bianliang, penniless. Refusing to return to their old ways of robbing the rich and giving to the poor, and wanting to avoid being recognized, they refused escorting work, leaving them to drift aimlessly through Bianliang. It was He Niang who provided Hao Chun with a place to stay, freeing him from the ravages of homelessness.
Hao Chunhe decided to stay and help He Niang clean up the smashed tables and chairs in the shop, while Wen Yao and Zhao Xuanxu left first. He Niang looked at Wen Yao's back and suddenly said to Hao Chunhe, who was wringing a rag, "Is she Wen Yao, the Xingyi Sword Master?"
Hao Chunhe quickly lifted up the table and chairs: "Did you recognize it?"
"No one in the martial arts world is more prominent than Wen Yao and Prince Yan these days." He Niang looked at Hao Chunhe and said, "You damned swallow, I didn't expect you knew such a big shot... Don't clean up these things yet, go to the kitchen and kill those chickens and ducks. We won't do business today, let's have a meal ourselves."
When Wen Yao came out of the ghost market and got into the carriage, he was still thinking about what the man had just shouted.
"The officers and soldiers helped him. Could it be that he really is Song Mingde's brother?" Wen Yao murmured, "It must be a genetic mutation. He doesn't look like him at all."
Regardless of Governor Song's personality, he was truly handsome. The man's description of Zhou Zheng was a stretch; he bore no resemblance to Song Mingde.
"Two or three years ago, Song Mingde brought back a brother from outside." Zhao Xuanxu said nonchalantly: "If it's this guy, Song Mingde can just ask him to come pick him up when he comes back."
That's what you said, but you've already put him in the Guandong prison. When Song Mingde returns from Suzhou, won't he only see a dead body?
Given the harshness of the Eastern Prison, Wen Yao's worry was quite plausible. Fortunately, Song Mingde returned from Suzhou in time before it became a reality.
Over the past few days, more than twenty people from the Wuzhaosi have joined the army, forming small teams to infiltrate the army and serve as officers under various generals. Wen Yao, as a nominal commissioner, has nothing to do and is content with his leisure time.
One day, the sound of horse hooves echoed at the gates of Bianliang. The gates were flung wide open, and the defenders bowed their heads. Governor Song, who had been to Suzhou over a month earlier to address flooding and promote the conversion of rice cultivation to mulberry trees, had returned. Without a moment's pause, he whipped his horse from the city gates and galloped straight towards the Prince of Yan's palace.
Zhao Xuanxu had just gone out for a while because of an urgent matter within the Twelve Armies. Wen Yao had asked him to bring some sugar cakes, so he stayed in the garden, spreading out bamboo strips on the ground to weave bamboo baskets and bamboo strips.
The last time she took Ayin shopping, she'd fallen in love with a bamboo basket shaped like a raccoon's head. Unfortunately, it had been ordered and she hadn't been able to buy it. Wen Yao tried to cheer Ayin up by promising to weave a bamboo basket herself for her.
Now that the words are out, just make it up.
Wen Yao clapped his hands, looked at the messy bamboo sticks on the ground, and said to the waitress who came in to report, "Call him over."
The garden's entrance was shaded by flowers, a scene of vibrant beauty and splendid beauty. Behind the rockery stood a magnificent double-sided embroidered screen. Wen Yao sat cross-legged on the ground when he heard soft footsteps. Then, a corner of a bright red robe swung out from behind the screen, and a pair of black boots touched the polished floor of the Prince of Yan's mansion.
She was biting a bamboo stick in her mouth and looked up to see Song Mingde standing in the distance, looking at her motionlessly.
After being away for more than half a month, Governor Song hadn't changed at all, still looking gloomy and pale. His eyes were dark and his face expressionless, showing neither joy nor anger.
"Come and redeem your brother." Wen Yao was happy, pulling out bamboo strips and weaving the last bit together: "Is that really your brother?"
Song Mingde asked gloomily, "You don't think so?"
"Oh." Wen Yao asked back, "Do you think they are similar? I can't tell. Governor Song is quite modest."
Song Mingde remained motionless, as if frozen in place, silently observing Wen Yao. Today was a beautiful day, warm and overcast. She didn't wear her hair up high, instead tying it with a ribbon and letting it hang down at her waist. Her wide sleeves were tied around her arms, and bamboo strips lay scattered on the ground at her feet.
He had been running around for many days without feeling tired, but at this moment he was suddenly blinded by a burst of vitality and couldn't help blinking.
"Let him go." Song Mingde put his hands behind his back and began to spin the jade ring with his thumb. He looked at Wen Yao and said slowly, "Whatever you want, just ask. I will give you everything I can."
Wow.
Even such words were spoken, I didn't expect there was such real family affection.
"I don't want anything. He is in the East Prison, you can take him back. Keep an eye on him. If he dares to cause trouble again, I will kill him on the spot." Wen Yao lowered his head and continued to weave the basket.
The basket in her hand was shaped like a butterfly, and the outline could barely be seen.
Song Mingde lowered his eyes, then suddenly walked closer, picked up the bamboo sticks around him and put them aside with great dignity, then sat down cross-legged next to Wen Yao.
He picked up two bamboo strips and pressed them together, then began to weave them carefully and skillfully, adding strips one by one. In a short while, a lifelike bamboo cricket appeared in his palm.
Wen Yao stopped moving and watched him finish weaving. "Superintendent Song is very skilled and knowledgeable."
"I lived on this before I entered the palace." Song Mingde, holding a bamboo cricket in his hand, looked a little unlike the gloomy and cruel Governor Song as he sat on the ground. He put the cricket on the ground, looked at the bamboo basket in Wen Yao's hand, and asked, "What are you going to weave?"
"A bamboo basket with a cat head." Wen Yao added, "I have to make it myself. It's for a child."
Song Mingde said nothing, but pulled out two more bamboo sticks and pressed them against his fingers. Before long, a chubby cat head emerged from between his slender, white fingers.
Wen Yao marveled at Governor Song's cleverness and dexterity. He watched his movements and gradually understood the trick. He put down the butterfly basket in his hand, picked up the bamboo strips, and also weaved a cat's head. It looked much more delicate than the previous butterfly.
"Thank you very much." She was delighted: "Thank you for your advice."
Song Mingde didn't say anything, looked at her again, stood up, picked up the cat's head, and strode out the door.
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