spoiled brat

Chapter 57 56. Duan Ming (6)

Zhao Zhao was speechless: "I..."

As if guessing what she was going to say, Xiu Yi said indifferently, "You are a person who has no choice in what you do. No matter how genuine your feelings are, they are worthless. For example, if someone were to use your whole family as leverage to force you to harm my sister, would you just stand by and watch your family die?"

The hand that had been resting on the windowsill slowly drooped down. Zhao Zhao had no words to refute it. When she raised her hand again, her palm no longer held the jade pendant that You Ming had given her, but a plain white jade hairpin. Under the moonlight, it was as cold and pure as frost and snow, untouched by any worldly impurities.

It belongs to Xiu Ning.

"Please return it to the princess for me," Zhao Zhao said softly. "Such a good thing shouldn't have to go through all this hardship with me."

Before Xiuyi could take it, Zhaozhao placed the jade hairpin on the windowsill and turned to run away.

Under the moonlight, her figure was lonely as she slipped into the low side gate, like a bleeding little animal trying to lick its wounds.

-

"What?" Manager Sun asked in a high-pitched voice, "You're leaving?"

As soon as it was light, Zhao Zhao came to Steward Sun's room.

"Yes." She sat there meekly, her expression gloomy. "I'm leaving."

Seeing that she was serious, Steward Sun slammed his hand on the table and said, "That won't do! Lord You told you to stay at the music academy. How am I supposed to explain if you leave?"

No matter what Zhao Zhao said, Steward Sun stuck to one sentence: "No matter what you do, your Madam Yu has given me your person and indenture together. I won't stamp it or issue a travel permit, and no matter how stubborn you are, it's useless!"

Helpless, Zhao Zhao tried to find a few excuses to get a permit to leave the brothel.

After a moment's thought, Steward Sun sent someone to summon Wang Liuer and said, "Didn't you say a few days ago that you wanted to go out?"

"Yes," Wang Liuer replied. "The prefect's birthday banquet is coming up in a few days. The scars on my body haven't faded yet, and I'd like to find a doctor outside to take a look."

Manager Sun approved the travel permits for both of them. The side door of the brothel opened a crack, and Zhao Zhao helped Wang Liuer walk out, with several pimps following silently behind.

Seeing her anxious expression, Wang Liuer asked, "What's bothering you?"

Zhao Zhao shook her head and said nothing.

Just around the corner is the market. Today is market day, and the streets are bustling with people selling all sorts of things.

Zhao Zhao bought a bag of oranges. Wang Liuer didn't like sour food, so she gave most of them to the pimp following behind her.

When the sacks of oranges were empty, she started shopping, buying everything like she was stocking up on goods.

In less than half an hour, Zhao Zhao, like a little frog hopping on a lotus leaf, had explored every shop in the market. Wang Liu'er watched as she stuffed women's summer and winter clothes, children's necessities from infancy to adulthood, and leather boots for teenagers into sacks, then piled on top cosmetics, puppets, and legends. She had originally intended to add some fruit and candied fruit, but the sacks were already full.

Wang Liuer looked at Zhao Zhao sitting on the roadside steps with concern: "What's wrong? Don't keep it to yourself..."

Zhao Zhao kept her head down, tying the sack with a rope, looking sullen, her long eyelashes trembling.

It felt like an eternity before she slowly raised her head, her eyes and nose red: "Sister Liu'er, I might be going to die."

Wang Liuer was stunned by this sudden remark. Just yesterday she was a spirited young girl. What could have happened overnight?

When she came to her senses, Zhao Zhao's expression had returned to calm, as if the fear and anxiety she had just felt were just her imagination.

"Sister Liu'er, do you know any trustworthy bodyguards?" Zhao Zhao asked.

Wang Liuer nodded and led Zhaozhao towards the back street of the brothel. She didn't ask any questions along the way. Zhaozhao, like her, never confided her worries to others.

Jiaofang Back Street was a dead end, filled with horse-drawn carriages, oxcarts, and donkey carts. Various signs were placed on the carts, and the solicitation slogans were all similar, either promising to keep their promises or being honest and trustworthy to all.

Beneath the window, there was a stool and a table, on which lay writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. The镖手 (bodyguard/escort) who worked as a private镖师 (bodyguard/escort) was skilled in both martial arts and literature; he could use a knife to defend against bandits on the road, and he could also use a pen to write letters for people.

As the two walked in, they passed a newly opened private escort stall. A woman on a small stool wept, covering her face and choking back tears, saying, "I am now twenty-seven, my heart is ashen, my body like withered wood. I am alive, but not truly dead. Please, Father and Mother, do not waste any more money on me, running around seeking help. You should buy more land, let my brother learn martial arts, and my sister pursue literature, so they can become useful people, and not follow in my footsteps..."

Her cries lingered behind them, growing ever more distant. Wang Liuer, leaning on her cane, and Zhao Zhao, dragging a sack, walked to the deserted street corner.

The eaves here are high, blocking the sunlight so that it can't get in, and there are no flowers or plants on the street corner, only a crooked tree.

A dilapidated donkey cart was parked under the crooked tree. The donkey was as thin as a dog and was munching on the grass and moss growing in the cracks between the bricks.

Beside the skinny donkey stood a man with a crooked neck; his head, eyes, and mouth were all crooked. He spoke earnestly to the prostitute in front of him:
“Why would I lie to you? Your parents couldn’t pay the rent, so the landlord tied them up and threw them into the government office to be forced into labor. Your younger brother was sold to a theatrical troupe and forced to practice hard skills. He broke his bones and became crippled, so the troupe abandoned him on the road. In the dead of winter, he froze to death in the middle of the night. Before he died, he kept trying to crawl home. Some villagers said that he kept calling for his sister.”

Before he could finish speaking, he was slapped hard across the face.

The prostitute wept bitterly, shaking the letter in her hand: "Bullshit! They just told me last month that they'd got connections and could get me out of here once they'd saved enough money..."

He glanced at the letter with a crooked neck and scoffed, "Then you should believe they're still alive! Work hard to sell yourself and make money, then give all the silver to those heartless bastards! They only report good news and never bad, they embezzle your money, and they don't even visit your home once!"

His head was tilted to the right, and he usually looked at people with his left cheek, giving him a smug, punchable appearance, not to mention the things he said that were asking for it. The prostitute slapped him again, cursed him as a jinx, and stormed off.

He'd just been slapped twice on the left cheek, and his head seemed even more tilted. So he slapped his right cheek twice, with such force it was as if he wanted to straighten his head. He gritted his teeth and cursed himself, "Serves you right for being so talkative."

"Old Wai!"

As soon as he heard Wang Liuer's voice, Lao Wai smiled. He twisted his neck to look over and chuckled, "You're here."

Wang Liuer righted the small stool that had been kicked over and let Zhaozhao sit down first. Then she took the stool that Lao Wai handed her, and carefully sat down while holding onto her crutch: "You made the girl cry again."

No one knew Lao Wai's real name, only that he had been doing this for a long time, helping prostitutes deliver messages and money home. After decades of hard work, he was still a poor wretch. The older pimps in the brothel said that Lao Wai's head was originally straight, but it was all because he talked nonsense that he was whipped crooked by generations of prostitutes.

Trapped in places like brothels, prostitutes always need to find something to cling to, to keep themselves afloat, and to deceive themselves into continuing to eke out a living.

Sometimes Lao Wai would wonder if he had made a mistake, but he just couldn't bring himself to deceive the unfortunate people.

"I won't say so much next time," he always says.

Old Wai pulled a cloth bag from his pocket and handed it to Wang Liuer: "I swept your mother's grave last month and moved a few pots of flowers there. The flowers are purple, and they look so beautiful blooming on the grave." The bag was opened, revealing dried flowers inside. Wang Liuer buried her face in it, inhaling the fragrance greedily, and said with a smile, "So fragrant."

Then she took out a silver note from her sleeve and stuffed it into Lao Wai's hand: "My mother is a meticulous person and loves cleanliness, so I'll trouble you to go more often in the future."

She spoke calmly, but when Lao Wai saw the face value of the banknote, he was stunned, and his dark yellow face slowly turned ashen.

She had just moved her lips as if to say something when Wang Liuer pointed at Zhaozhao and said, "This is my sister."

Zhao Zhao called out "Uncle," then dragged the sack behind her up. It was full and heavy, and Lao Wai could tell at a glance that it was being sent home.

He asked Zhao Zhao if she wanted him to send a letter home. Zhao Zhao nodded and said yes, but when Lao Wai picked up the pen, she was speechless. What could she say? What was there to say?
After a long while, she said in an extremely soft voice, "Just write me a sentence."

"What?"

"Mom, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have argued with you before."

Old Wai finished writing quickly and stuffed the letter into an oil paper bag: "I'll send you a message within seven days."

Within seven days? Zhao Zhao didn't know if she could live that long. She took out the silver notes from her sleeve. Since she couldn't run away, she would send all the money home.

Old Wai glanced at the face value and exclaimed, "Wow! This little girl trusts me so much?"

Zhao Zhao glanced at the private escort companies behind her, all of which had customers, and some even had queues. She then looked at Lao Wai, who was ignored by everyone, and said, "You are a good person."

Old Wai looked at the two large silver notes in his hand, one for Zhao Zhao and the other for Wang Liuer, and said with a bitter smile, "You two..."

Only then did Zhao Zhao realize that Wang Liu'er had disappeared. The pimp who had followed them out of the brothel found the alley too crowded and stayed outside instead of coming in with them, so Zhao Zhao got up and went to look for Wang Liu'er alone.

She spotted the person without much effort.

Wang Liuer, like the other prostitutes who came to write letters and send things, sat in front of the private escort stall. The escort opposite her was wearing a bamboo hat and dressed in the proper attire of a江湖 (jianghu, a term referring to the world of martial arts and outlaws), so his face could not be seen, but he exuded a rough and fierce aura.

The two sat quietly, neither of them speaking, like two rocks facing each other.

Just when Zhao Zhao thought they would remain silent for as long as ten thousand years, the镖夫 suddenly took out a bag.

It was wrapped in oil paper; Zhao Zhao recognized it. She had just bought it before; it contained candied fruit.

Wang Liuer opened it; inside were dried apricots.

The man's voice was hoarse: "I hate myself for being useless."

Wang Liuer popped a dried apricot into her mouth and smiled brightly: "I'm glad you're not that good, so you don't cause me any troublesome worries."

Having said all she needed to say, she stood up and immediately saw Zhao Zhao not far away. Seeing Zhao Zhao staring intently at the two of them, Wang Liu'er felt a chill in her heart. Had she overheard something? Turning back to look at the man's attire, she saw that it was clearly impeccable.

Zhao Zhao saw it.

I saw that the man's right hand only had four fingers.

The words Xiu Yi had said echoed in his mind: his name was Shi Gang, and he used to be a pawn under You Ming, but now he was being hunted down by You Ming...

Shi Gang... Shi Gang!
Zhao Zhao strode forward, but Wang Liuer blocked her way. Their eyes met suddenly, and before they could say a word, an explosion erupted outside the dead end!
With a thunderous sound of footsteps, a dense crowd rushed in, and countless voices cried out in unison in fear: "The soldiers are here! The soldiers are here!"

People were packed together, trampling each other, with cries and screams of pain filling the air, creating a chaotic scene like a nest of ants being doused with hot water.

The dead end was quickly filled with people. Wang Liuer clung tightly to the crooked tree, her gaze peering out over the layers of heads.

In the middle of the street, one group of people was chasing another, as fast as two black gusts of wind. Wherever they passed, there was chaos. The lively scene was completely destroyed! The stalls were overturned, and those who were slow to run also suffered. They were knocked or trampled by the galloping horses, and fell to the ground, spitting blood and barely alive.

"Where did these soldiers come from? Is there no law anymore?!" someone shouted angrily.

Someone immediately replied, "Those two bastards are at it again!"

Curses erupted all around, and only after the two groups of people had run far away did everyone cautiously venture out. The street was littered with corpses, stretching from one end to the other, the air thick with the stench of blood.

Some people fled, others left. Some shouted the names of their relatives and friends, but received no response, so they cried and started searching for the corpses on the ground.

Chaos, complete chaos.

Others may not know what happened, but Zhao Zhao knows perfectly well that You Ming must have sent his men out to do something dirty, and they were caught by the people from the Prince of Ning's mansion.

At this point, You Ming will soon start to worry; her death is not far off.

Wang Liuer held Zhao Zhao's hand tightly, wondering if she was holding a block of ice. She thought Zhao Zhao was scared out of her wits and was about to comfort her when Zhao Zhao whispered, "Let's go, let's go quickly, there's going to be more trouble later."

As soon as the two left the alley, the clatter of hooves sounded again from the street. This time it wasn't a pursuit, but two young soldiers, one of whom Zhao Zhao recognized—he had wiped her mouth before.

Before the two could even dismount, a crowd swarmed around them. The man who had lost a loved one, clutching the trampled corpse, roared with furious, bloodshot eyes, "You dare come back?!"

The usually docile common people had turned into tigers, leopards, and wolves. The two soldiers were a little scared. They held the reins with one hand and their swords with the other, and tried to soothe them in the gentlest tone: "...Just now we were chasing the government troops. They were running ahead and led us into this street."

Seven or eight stones flew out from the crowd and hit them. The two men couldn't shield themselves in time, and blood immediately started flowing from their foreheads.

The people shouted in unison, "A life for a life! A life for a life!"

Public resentment surged like a tidal wave, and the two soldiers grew even more frightened. Their voices trembled slightly as they spoke: "Our Dingbei Army has an inescapable responsibility in this matter, and we will certainly give everyone an explanation... If any of your relatives or friends have suffered misfortune, you can come to us—"

Before they could finish speaking, the crowd surged forward, pulled the two men off their horses, and made as if to tear them apart alive!

Both soldiers were held down and pulled by countless hands, and one of them shouted, "Draw your sword! Brother, draw your sword!"

A large chunk of the other man's scalp had been ripped off, his face covered in blood and tears. His hand was clearly on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it and force everyone back, yet he resignedly closed his eyes: "I can't pull it out..."

The people drowned the two people. Zhao Zhao heard a chilling tearing sound and screams of pain. Two jets of blood splattered high from the crowd, almost dyeing the sun red.

(End of this chapter)