Chapter 8: Lord Pei

The carriage had not yet left Mingzhao Lane and entered Zhuque Avenue, where the crowds were sparse on either side, when suddenly the clamorous sound of soldiers in pursuit broke out ahead, accompanied by several sharp shouts.

“Imperial Court’s Judicial Office, arresting a fugitive! All bystanders, clear the way—”

A cacophony filled Xie Yun’s ears.

She frowned and was about to instruct the coachman to detour, when a fierce gust swept past her ear. A chill ran down her neck, and when she looked down, she was met with a glinting blade looming dangerously close.

“Don’t move! Make a sound and you’ll lose your life immediately!”

A hoarse male voice came from behind her, rough as if starved of daylight in a dark prison for ages. Then Xie Yun felt a strong grip clamp down on her shoulder, the force surprisingly immense.

The coachman hired by Bao Zhu was not from the prime minister’s residence but was someone found casually in the capital. Faced with this scene, he had already fled in terror, abandoning the carriage—there was no thought of warning her or protecting her.

And even if there were someone to warn her, who could truly protect her?

Xie Yun bitterly smiled inwardly, lamenting her misfortune, while swiftly weighing her options.

She guessed this man must be the fugitive the Judicial Office was after. But if he had endured so much to escape the dark prison, why come to Mingzhao Lane—a place thick with powerful families—instead of fleeing beyond Yanjing’s walls?

Was this not a death wish?

As she pondered this, the man behind her spoke again. “Lord Pei, this lady before me must be either wealthy or noble. If you do not wish for her to meet an untimely death today, how about sparing her life and letting me go?”

Lord Pei?

Xie Yun lifted her eyes forward and saw the man leading the group. He was tall and slender, dressed in splendid embroidered robes with a leather belt at his waist. Amid the cold glint of swords, his handsome, jade-like face was still visible, but what was most striking was the aura radiating from him.

It was like the cursed talisman before the King of Hell, tightening one’s heart with dread.

Because of the fate she had endured in her past life, Xie Yun felt a sudden, otherworldly sense of familiarity upon seeing him.

Yet the current situation did not allow her to dwell on old memories. She heard the man behind her speak and slightly turned her head. “Sir... I will address you as Lord for now. I am neither the daughter of nobility nor do I have any backing. I doubt Lord Pei would value my life, so you’ve probably mistaken me for someone else.”

Those detained by the Judicial Office were usually serious offenders of the court, so calling him Lord was not inappropriate.

The man behind, surprised that she did not scream or cry, instinctively glanced at her.

The woman he held had cloud-like hair and a delicate, graceful figure. Even in this dire moment, she remained composed. If not taught by a noble family, how else could she be so calm?

Truly, women in this world were cunning!

“Enough nonsense,” the man said, pressing his blade a few inches closer to her neck. Then he looked up and fixed his gaze on Pei Shiqin. “I’ve heard that Lord Pei has no compassion for women, but this is Mingzhao Lane. I doubt Lord Pei wishes to offend the powerful families if something happens to this lady, right?”

Pei Shiqin had only recently taken office at the Judicial Office. Mingzhao Lane housed the four great clans, and he certainly could not afford to offend them.

Pei Shiqin’s gaze swept over Xie Yun before resting expressionlessly on the man holding her. He spoke slowly and clearly, “Zhao Yuanliang, you fled here to Mingzhao Lane to send a message to the Fu family, didn’t you?”

His voice was like a gentle rain tapping on the eaves on a spring night—pleasant to the ear, yet causing the man behind Xie Yun to stiffen.

Her heart skipped a beat as a certain memory suddenly surfaced.

In the sixteenth year of the Yongxi reign, Zhao Yuanliang, the magistrate overseeing the Salt and Iron Department of the Great Qi Dynasty, was imprisoned for involvement in a massive private salt smuggling case. The Emperor was furious, convinced Zhao had abused his position to commit crimes, and ordered the Judicial Office to investigate thoroughly and expose all his accomplices.

However, it was later rumored that Zhao endured brutal torture in prison but insisted it was all his doing alone. Soon after, he signed a confession. Yet looking at the current situation, could this be connected to the Fu family as well?

Xie Yun was puzzled, but Zhao Yuanliang behind her suddenly felt his breath burn with intensity.

“Did you lure me out on purpose today?”

The Judicial Office was heavily guarded. Yet today, he had found a way to escape. Though he found it strange, the urgency of matters left him no time to dwell. First, he sent a message to a pawnshop owned by the Fu family, then prepared to visit them personally. Unexpectedly, Pei Shiqin appeared at the perfect moment.

Now it was clear there was no coincidence—it was deliberate!

Probably, just as he left the pawnshop, Pei Shiqin’s men had already sealed it off!

He had acted recklessly. If the Fu family learned he had risked everything and dragged them into this, would his nine clans even survive?

He should not have naively hoped to bargain with the Fu family for his life. That person, like Pei Shiqin, was a demon from the gates of hell.

Thinking this, he laughed aloud three times, then lowered his voice fiercely and said to Xie Yun, “If I, Zhao Yuanliang, can have such a beauty accompany me after death, then my life was not in vain.”

With that, the knife in his hand began to move!