Chapter 96 Entering the City
Hearing her words, Wen Yao lowered his head to look at the head that was stained with blood and the face could not be seen clearly.
Xue Ke was stunned at first, but then he quickly reacted and squatted down to lift the hair of the head, revealing a hideous ghost head tattoo behind the ear: "Someone from the Red Pavilion?"
Jiang Qiaosheng corrected coldly: "It's Feng Jimin's people."
After the fall of Tangshan, the Red Pavilion was split in two, with Feng Jimin holding the majority, leaving Jiang Qiaosheng with only a few strongholds. Her men stopped accepting murderous orders, transitioning from dealing in human lives to legitimate business, practically retiring and retreating into semi-reclusion. Feng Jimin remained active in the underworld, even more brazen than before, reaching out directly to the imperial court, accepting bribes to kill several officials.
There was no trace of them in Bianliang City, and Song Mingde's factory supervisors were unable to control them. The Supervisory Office, while traveling around, unexpectedly clashed with the Red Pavilion, causing quite a stir, which was suppressed by Wu Peiming.
Wen Yao didn't know why Feng Jimin's men were staying with the rebels. However, if he had been involved in the Huainan East Road riot, it would explain the rebels' strange behavior.
She squatted on the ground and stared at the head for a while, then asked Jiang Qiaosheng again with emotion: "Why is he pestering you? Have you beaten him before?"
"I don't know." Jiang Qiaosheng said gloomily, "He's been a lunatic since he was a child. He used to target me during the training and selection process. If I had known he would be such a troublemaker now, I would have found a chance to kill him."
The previous Red Pavilion Master had sired twenty or thirty children, making it easier to select the next one. The previous Red Pavilion Elder also had many disciples, Feng Jimin just one of them. He wasn't particularly skilled in martial arts since childhood, and aside from his rather eye-catching appearance, he wasn't particularly outstanding among the elder's disciples. Who knew he would eventually become an elder?
Wen Yao keenly heard a question: "Was Feng Jimin's leg okay at that time?"
"It's more than just his legs. He didn't even have white hair back then." Jiang Qiaosheng raised his leg and kicked the head away. "He's sick all over now. I think it was because of the murder of his master. I don't know the details. I haven't asked."
"I'm not angry." Wen Yao stroked her soft hair, thought for a moment, and said, "It's good that he's here. Let's try to catch him back. Wang Fu is back too. Let him take a closer look."
At this time, the area ahead was almost cleared. Qianying looked at Zhao Xuanxu. Zhao Xuanxu pulled Wen Yao over and took out a handkerchief from his arms. He carefully wiped the hand she had touched Jiang Qiaosheng and ordered, "Keep going forward."
It was clear that the rebels were desperately trying to keep Prince Yan's troops outside Yangzhou, setting numerous ambushes along the way. They likely knew they might be able to hold their own against the various garrisons, but facing the Prince Yan's Twelve Guards head-on would likely be like throwing tofu against a knife.
Wen Yao was a little distracted while riding her horse. Her eyelids kept twitching when she thought about the rebels and Feng Jimin's long-standing collusion.
Jiang Qiaosheng told her that assassinating the emperor to overthrow the Tianshui Dynasty was just a traditional movement of the Red Pavilion, a formality. But Feng Jimin's mind was unpredictable. Knowing that the rebels had no chance of winning against the court, why did he still join the rebellion? Could Feng Jimin really want to rebel and become emperor?
No, no, no, it shouldn’t be. That’s ridiculous.
Wen Yao thought about it and casually grabbed an arrow shot from the woods and threw it back. The arrow was not much slower than before and pierced through the body, splashing blood.
If Feng Jimin was in Yangzhou City now, he might run away if this continued.
Thinking of this, Wen Yao turned to Zhao Xuanxu and said, "I'll go ahead and sweep the area. We need to hurry and set up camp at the foot of Yangzhou before dark."
Zhao Xuanxu glanced at Wen Yao, lowered his head, took out a token from his waist and threw it to Qianying. He held the whip in one hand, kicked the horse's belly with his long legs, and walked towards Wen Yao.
"Snowman." Jiang Qiaosheng gritted his teeth. "Let's go too. I'm going to catch this sneaky white-haired mouse today."
Wen Yao had once told others that she had some skills, and while she could barely take the head of a general from a million-strong enemy army, she wasn't so good at leading troops in battle. Now, four steeds roared out, breaking away from the dense mass of troops and charging forward, dispatching any ambushes they encountered with ease.
Ten miles from Yangzhou City, on the banks of the Hang River, Wen Yao cut the low, crisscrossing trip ropes in the bushes, clapped his hands, and looked at Zhao Xuanxu. Zhao Xuanxu had just strangled several people, and his hands were stained with blood. He lowered his eyes to glance at his hands and took out a handkerchief to wipe them.
This was also Zhao Xuanxu's contradiction. He didn't like to use swords when killing people. Wen Yao had brought him a long sword before, but he quietly put it back. Now he felt that it was dirty to tear out his heart and lungs. If there were no shower facilities, Zhao Xuanxu would probably take a bath immediately.
Wen took out the hidden weapon box that Zhao Xuanxu had given her earlier, pulled Zhao Xuanxu's hand and put it on him, then handed him the dagger she had been carrying, and taught Prince Yan: "Don't take anything with your hands, it's not clean."
Zhao Xuanxu took the dagger and responded softly.
His unique submissive look towards Wen Yao reappeared, which made Jiang Qiaosheng feel sick. He stood aside with a gloomy expression.
Ever since she knew Feng Jimin was also in Yangzhou City, she had been feeling restless. She had glanced towards the city gate several times, wishing she could go in and kill someone immediately.
Snowman came over.
He was out for a little longer, not only checking out the trenches where the gunpowder was buried in the distance, but also marking them and sending them to Qianying.
Xue Ke said, "The city gate is not open. There are people guarding it."
Yangzhou City, Twelve Gates. Wen Yao and the others were currently at a gate in the northeastern part of Yangzhou City, facing the East Gate, a bustling ferry crossing on the Hang River. In the past, this official road was bustling with pedestrians and merchants, but now the gates were closed, and few people could be seen on the avenue.
"Surprisingly, there's no movement." Wen Yao seemed to be thinking, "Why don't you retreat? You're still defending the city. Are you really planning to fight us?"
Whether it was out of sheer courage and confidence or some other kind of ceremony, it was hard to tell. Wen Yao felt a small thread in his heart tense, as he always felt that there was something strange going on inside and outside the city of Yangzhou not far ahead.
"Are you going or not?" Wen Yao looked at Zhao Xuanxu. "Since we're here, why don't we go in and see what's going on? And tell Qianying about the ambush arrangements in the city."
Zhao Xuanxu gathered the dagger in his hand and replied without hesitation, "Okay."
Now that I'm here, these four words often have a special charm. No matter how difficult the road ahead is, seeing these four words will give me an inexplicable urge to jump into the pit ahead.
The men abandoned their horses and set off on foot, quickly approaching the northeastern gate of Yangzhou City. Wen Yao, hiding in the woods outside the city, leaned against Jiang Qiaosheng's head, squinting to see what was happening at the gate. Yangzhou City was a wealthy and elegant place, its gates imposing, complete with double-walled fortifications and urn-shaped walls. At this moment, the ten-foot-tall gates were firmly shut. Just as Xue Ke had predicted, guards in robes and scarves stood every few meters. These weren't the original Yangzhou defenders, but rather the rioting refugees.
Jiang Qiaosheng's head kept trying to break through Wen Yao's hand and reach out: "Kill?"
"Kill the head, no." Wen Yao patted her: "Smart people have smart ways."
Yangzhou is a large city, and ghost markets are a common sight. Wen Yao had been to Yangzhou before and knew that it was a bustling city with merchants. Among the market squares stood a vast expanse of tiled streets, crisscrossed by rivers that connected to the Hang River outside the city. The peculiar structure of the tiled streets meant that while the streets were relatively normal during the day, at night, the demons and monsters would roam, marking the Yangzhou Ghost Market.
Wen Yao turned and walked toward the Hang River. After skirting the woods, he came upon a tranquil moat. It hadn't rained in ten days or half a month, and the scorching sun had been blazing continuously. The moat, not as vast as Gaoyou Lake, was nearly dry. There was nothing left, only the stench of rotting fish and shrimp.
She walked towards the river with familiarity. After a few steps, she squatted down, pushed aside a pile of rubble on the bank, and peered inside. A subtle sound came, and Zhao Xuanxu turned her head to see a dark green stone door opening in the woods, revealing a passage inside.
"A cunning rabbit has three burrows. This is the path of the Ghost Market's own people." Wen Yao waved his hand, and the stone gate opened, and thick dust floated in the air. Judging from the situation, it was unknown how long it had been since anyone had walked this path.
"I had just returned from Liuli Island and settled in Yangzhou City. People were always trying to find ways to pick fights with me. The people in the Ghost Market told me this path. I left the city through this gate."
"There are many ways." Wen Yao said as he went inside: "It's not surprising to be in the underworld."
This secret passage was extremely secretive, filled with dust and stagnant air. It must have been unused for a long time. Wen Yao had anticipated this and had covered her face with a piece of cloth. Even so, she still choked and sneezed when she emerged. She rubbed her nose and pushed aside the mat leaning against the wall to block her view.
The four of them came out one after another. They were surrounded by a narrow alley. It was quiet and empty.
Zhao Xuanxu grabbed Wen Yao and brushed the dust off her body. Then he looked around and asked, "Is this the Yangzhou Ghost Market?"
"Yeah. Strange, where are the people?" Wen Yao looked around and raised his eyebrows.
They were currently in the Wazichang area of Yangzhou City. It was completely different from Yanling. Here, roads and alleys were densely packed, each narrow enough for only two people to walk side by side. The surrounding shops were even more bizarre, densely packed into the gaps.
Wen Yao walked out of the alley and took a look around. The small shops around him were empty and there was no one in sight.
She frowned, stopped and thought carefully, then suddenly turned around and walked towards a place.
At the intersection of several alleys, there was a small river with a bridge over it, its stone pillars covered with damp, cold moss. Now the river was almost dry, revealing a pile of broken bricks and tiles under the bridge.
Wen Yao stopped in front of the bricks and tiles, pulled a silver ingot from his waist and placed it on the ground. Almost the next moment, an old, wrinkled hand suddenly emerged from the rubble and quickly snatched the silver away.
"Grandpa, I have a question." Wen Yao squatted and shouted inside: "Why is there no one here?"
At this, there was a movement from under the bridge. The rubble was pushed aside, and a disheveled head poked out. A pair of deep-set eyes appeared through the hairline and glanced at Wen Yao.
"Xingyi Sword?" The old beggar-like man recognized Wen Yao at a glance. His voice was hoarse and choked with phlegm: "You're here? How did you get in? Are the imperial court members here too?"
Wen Yao looked around and took out a piece of silver from his waist and placed it in front of the old man: "There's no one around, come out and talk."
The old beggar accepted the silver again, pushed aside the rubble blocking his path, and crawled out from a gap under the bridge. His legs disappeared from his calves downward, his dark trouser legs hanging bare on the ground. He scrambled out of his hole with a swift movement, like a long worm awakened.
"What's the situation in Yangzhou City right now? Why is there no one in the Ghost Market?"
The old beggar didn't even raise his eyelids: "They've all left. Those who rebelled against the emperor sealed off the city. The ghost market is well-informed and left long ago after hearing the news."
"How are the people in the city?"
"It was fine before, except we couldn't enter or leave the city." The old beggar looked back and fished around, pulling out a wine jar and taking a swig. "Someone's been rounding up people these past few days. The men have been dragged away to serve as soldiers, while the women have been forced to boil water, cook, and wash clothes."
This remark somehow struck a chord with Jiang Qiaosheng, and the gloom on her face vanished as she laughed, "Arresting people? Didn't they say they were rebelling against the old emperor because they were pleading for the people?"
"It doesn't matter who takes the throne," the old beggar said, crawling back slowly. "Those people have knives, so be careful."
Wen Yao knew those people had knives. Just now at Gaoyou Lake, and the people lying in ambush along the way, they not only had knives and bows, but even explosives, their equipment was incredibly complete.
She helped the old beggar arrange the gravel, took out a tael of silver and stuffed it into his pocket, then took Zhao Xuanxu's hand and led him through the winding alleys that were like a spider web.
The secret passage was located inside the Ghost Market. To reach the main street, one had to cross half of the Ghost Market, and surprisingly, they didn't see a single person along the way. The main street was deserted, with only patrolmen wearing turbans and machetes hanging from their waists, patrolling every street.
The security is very tight.
However, the patrol army was nothing to Wen Yao and the others, and they passed through Yangzhou City unimpeded. Jiang Qiaosheng followed Wen Yao and looked up at Yangzhou City, humming a song softly.
Wen Yao was thinking about going to the prefect's residence to see what was going on when suddenly the cheerful tune next to her ear stopped.
"Hmm?" Wen Yao subconsciously looked at Jiang Qiaosheng. Just as she turned halfway, her brows turned cold and she suddenly turned her head to look towards the second floor of the teahouse in front of her left.
There are people there.
On a deserted street, Feng Jimin sat unseen on the second floor of a roadside teahouse. Her hair was white, her eyelashes were red, and she was dressed in plain clothes. Five or six men, wearing white masks, gathered around her, each holding an umbrella.
It was a bright, sunny day, and the teahouse was deserted. The curtains were drawn, and the interior was dim. At first glance, Feng Jimin looked less like a human than a ghost, a demonic spirit wandering around in broad daylight.
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