spoiled brat

Chapter 157, Section 156: The Frost's Startling Touch (Part Six)

Zhao Zhao had not been able to find Xie Xiaoqing recently, so she knew he had fallen into Li Qingwen's trap. Li Qingwen was cautious by nature and would not have acted personally; it was likely that someone was secretly helping him.

After leaving Jiang Prefecture, Zhao Zhao did not rush to leave. She waited secretly for a while and saw Li Qingwen interact with the old man selling fried dough after entering the bustling market. She thought to herself, "Here it comes!" and set up this trap.

Cries of injustice echoed in the air. Several peddlers, caught up in the commotion, were unaware that the "culprit" had already been identified and were terrified, bursting into tears.

Zhao Zhao waved her hand, indicating that those who hadn't found any stolen goods could leave. They immediately scurried away, leaving only the old man selling fried dough sticks with his head down, his messy hair covering his face.

Zhao Zhao couldn't discern his expression, but she could tell that the calluses on his hands weren't thick, unlike someone who worked year-round. The soldiers searching him also noticed something odd, carefully examining his entire body, and found only a few copper coins.

Zhao Zhao asked with a smile, "Uncle, you don't even take your house key with you when you go out?"

The old man remained silent.

Zhao Zhao lifted the carrying pole and glanced inside. A dozen or so fragrant flatbreads lay neatly arranged in the basket, looking quite presentable; the cooks clearly had some skill. But there were only flatbreads, no stolen goods, which left her with no excuse to arrest anyone.

“Miss Yuan,” Li Qingwen said calmly, “since we haven’t caught the thief, we should let him go.”

Zhao Zhao smiled and nodded: "Of course."

Even so, she still felt strange. Why would Li Qingwen, a person who was obsessed with cleanliness, buy such greasy things for no reason?

Zhao Zhao didn't rush to let him go. She took out some silver and placed it on the carrying pole, saying, "I'm sorry, old man, I feel very guilty for disturbing you. To express my apology, I'll buy this load of cakes from you." Then she waved to the soldiers who came with her, telling them to take some and eat.

The pile of bread in the basket gradually shrunk, and the old man, who had been standing still, suddenly raised his head, his chapped lips trembling, and he finally panicked.

Seeing that he wanted to look at Li Qingwen but didn't dare, Zhao Zhao knew that she had made the right gamble.

Sure enough, there was a silver bag in the empty basket.

Zhao Zhao used the scabbard to lift the bag and examine its patterns and ornaments closely. She turned to Li Qingwen and said with a smile, "I don't think this is something an ordinary family would use. What do you think, Lord Li?"

“It doesn’t seem like it.” Li Qingwen’s gaze was calm as he looked at the victim. “Shopkeeper, is this the money that was stolen from you?”

The shopkeeper hired by Zhao Zhao was completely bewildered, only knowing how to collect money and do his job, unaware of the undercurrents between the two. Zhao Zhao pointed to this person, and he nodded in agreement with Li Qingwen's words.

Li Qingwen, with an attitude of indifference, said casually, "You had your money pouch stolen by this peddler, but fortunately Miss Yuan helped you find it. You've met a living bodhisattva today; you should thank her properly."

Even Zhao Zhao was somewhat impressed by his calm and composed demeanor. This beast always seemed to see through everything, remaining calm even when faced with a collapsing mountain, and making the most ruthless yet best choice.

"Lord Li," Zhao Zhao smiled, "this old man stole a considerable amount. What do you suggest we do?"

"According to the law, he should be flogged fifty times."

"Will his body be able to withstand being taken back to the yamen for punishment?"

Li Qingwen brushed the dust off his sleeves and calmly said, "The law cannot be biased. Miss Yuan, please handle this according to the law. I have other duties to attend to, so I'll take my leave now." With that, he lifted his robe, mounted his horse, and rode away.

From beginning to end, he never looked at the old man once, did not help cover it up, and even confirmed the fabricated crime.

Zhao Zhao was somewhat suspicious. Could it be that the two were truly strangers, and that the old man had no relation to Li Qingwen at all?

She knelt down in front of the old man, intending to threaten him and try to force him to speak, but before she could open her mouth, she froze.

Beneath the messy hair were a pair of vacant eyes, which looked through the crowd and onto a little beggar sitting on the side of the street watching a play.

The little beggar was young and had a small mouth. He picked up the pancake that Li Qingwen had thrown away and chewed for a long time before eating just a small piece.

The pancake was much larger than usual and filled with meat. One bite, and the aroma of cumin and scallion oil burst in your mouth, the meat filling so enticing it made the little beggar dizzy. Zhao Zhao's smile vanished. No wonder the old man hadn't said a word; he'd been watching this scene intently. She gestured to those around her and whispered, "Take him away."

-

As the horse galloped to the north of the city, Li Qingwen stopped his whip outside the martial arts training ground.

Before he could even land properly, a child who had been waiting under the tree rushed up to him: "Sir..."

The boy hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but stopped himself. Normally, Li Qingwen would have told him to speak his mind.

For some reason, Li Qingwen didn't notice the boy's stammering and walked inside with a sullen face, asking how much grain the soup kitchen had used today and how much fodder was left in the warehouse.

The boy answered each question, then asked timidly, "Is something on your mind, sir?"

Li Qingwen suddenly stopped, his back straight and sharp, casting a shadow.

The child, bewildered that he had said something wrong, raised his hand to slap himself, but Li Qingwen slowly turned his head, his gloomy expression vanished, and his face was once again filled with that flawless, faint smile.

"You have something to say?"

It was truly a refined and elegant face, meticulous in every detail, as if it had been painted on.

The boy dared not linger, and pointed to the soup kitchen where refugees were thronging in the distance, saying, "...Sir, that fool is back."

not dead?

Li Qingwen froze in the wind, his hands hanging at his sides gradually clenching. The boy comforted him, "Sir, it doesn't matter if that fool comes back. We've handled things cleanly."

Clean and spotless, so clean and spotless.

Someone said that half an hour ago, and someone said that half a year ago, but these two ghosts who should have been reincarnated long ago still came running in front of him.
How many times do we have to kill them all?

What price must a person pay to break free from the past?

Li Qingwen let out a long sigh, his eyes turning icy cold: "I'll go meet him. You go to the storeroom and tidy things up again, make sure nothing goes wrong."

The porridge pot was steaming hot, and Xie Xiaoqing's face turned red from the heat.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, scooped up a bowl of porridge, and handed it out of the shed: "Take this, be careful it's hot."

After holding his hand for a long time without anyone answering, Xie Xiaoqing peeked out and saw a young girl standing in front of the stove. She looked a bit silly and wasn't afraid of being so close to the stove.

Xie Xiaoqing quickly went around to her side and pulled her aside: "Can't you feel the heat? If you get any closer to the stove, you'll get burned!"

The little girl is indeed a bit slow-witted; she can't speak, and she just keeps biting her fingers, which are all dirty.

Xie Xiaoqing wiped the little girl's fingers clean one by one with his sleeve, feeling both amused and annoyed: "Why are you eating your hands if you're hungry? There's porridge in the pot."

As soon as he finished speaking, he reached for the porridge bowl, but before he could turn around, the little girl said innocently, "I'm not hungry, I don't want porridge."

Xie Xiaoqing then noticed that her dark eyes were fixed on the shed.

What's interesting about a soup kitchen? The stove, the piles of bowls, the buckets, the grain sacks…

There was also a touch of white.

It was just a glimpse of a hem of a garment, belonging to a beautiful young man who sat lazily in a wooden chair brought by Xie Xiaoqing with his eyes closed. Perhaps it was his striking appearance that made the messy space seem as magnificent as a grand hall.