In the thirteenth year of the Tianbao era: I became Yang Guozhong's eldest son.

A moment later, a low gasp suddenly came from the backyard.

Not big.

It was as if someone was about to get up when something pressed them back down.

Then came the rustling sound of straw mats rubbing against the ground.

And then, nothing was left.

It was very quiet.

It was as if nothing had happened.

But everyone inside knew that the person had already been captured.

After a while...

Pei Zhao brought the person in.

The porter was not old, in his early twenties, with a thin face and sharp eyes; he was clearly not someone who would settle down and work hard.

At this moment, his hands were twisted behind his back, his mouth was not gagged, but he dared not shout. As soon as he entered the door, he knelt down with a thud, and cold sweat poured down his forehead.

"My lord..."

"I've been wronged..."

"Don't cry out for justice yet."

Yang Xuan looked at him, her tone indifferent.

"If you are truly innocent, you will have your chance to cry out in time."

The porter choked.

Pei Zhao slammed a dirty little paper roll onto the table.

"Found it under the straw mat."

"And this too."

As he spoke, he pulled out a small string of copper coins from behind his waist.

There weren't many copper coins.

About twenty or thirty coins.

But for a temporary porter, this was a windfall he shouldn't have received that night.

"The paper rolls hadn't been burned yet."

"The money hasn't even been hidden away yet."

"If you still want to claim innocence, I'd like to hear how you plan to explain it."

The porter's face turned pale instantly.

He initially intended to deny it to the bitter end.

But now, all the paper rolls, money, and places hidden under bedding have been thoroughly searched, leaving no room for even the last bit of luck.

Yang Xuan, however, did not rush to unpack the paper.

He simply asked:

"What's your name?"

"Xiao Xiao's surname is Du, and he is the fifth in his family."

Where is your home?

"The area near Lantian..."

"How did you get here?"

The porter swallowed hard.

His eyes darted around.

He was clearly still thinking about which words he should say and which he shouldn't.

Yang Xuan looked at him and suddenly smiled.

"Don't think about staying up all night."

"Someone like you isn't a suicide soldier, and no one's even worth collecting your corpse."

"If you explain yourself clearly tonight, I might not take your life."

"If you're still thinking of taking the blame for someone else..."

As he said this, he slightly raised his hand.

Pei Zhao immediately understood, stepped forward, and placed his five fingers on the porter's shoulder blade. With just a slight exertion, he heard a muffled groan that was suppressed to a very low degree.

The porter trembled.

"You will disappear in Yongxing Post Station tomorrow morning."

"The innkeeper will say you drank too much last night and fell into the ditch and drowned."

"Those people waiting for news outside will just think you're unlucky and that someone else will come instead."

"Whether you live or die, they won't even give you a second glance."

The room was deathly silent.

The porter's last bit of pride was shattered by those words.

Because he knew.

This is true.

He wasn't a particularly important person to begin with.

If it weren't for the greed for that little bit of money, and the thought that it was just a matter of delivering a few words and spending a couple of hours, and that no one would die, he wouldn't have dared to get involved in such a thing at all.

Once it's on, it's on.

Now that the knife is really pressed against his neck, the first person he thinks of isn't his supplier.

It's not about my own life.

"I'll say it!"

He suddenly lowered his head, and his voice changed tone.

"My lord, please tell me!"

"explain."

"I didn't come all the way from Chang'an... really, I didn't."

"I met him at the post station this morning."

"A hay seller recognized me and said that if I could just take a look at what time your group would leave tomorrow, which cart was the most important, and then pass the information on to the people at the post station, he would give me three hundred coins."

Afu gasped.

Three hundred articles.

This is nothing to the important figures in the Prime Minister's residence and Chang'an.

But for someone who begs for a living by walking, this is a windfall enough to make him rich.

"Who does that man selling fodder work for?"

"I don't know."

The porter's voice trembled with anxiety.

"He looked unfamiliar, unlike someone who usually does this kind of business locally. He just said that if things went well, I should go back to the three-way pavilion in front tomorrow afternoon and someone would give me the rest of the money."

"The rest of the money?" Cui Shen asked coldly. "So, that string of coins from earlier was just a deposit?"

The porter nodded quickly.

"Yes, yes."

"He said he'd give you thirty coins tonight as a small favor. If you're still here by tomorrow afternoon, there will be another two hundred and seventy coins."

Yang Xuan finally unfolded the small scroll of paper on the table.

The paper is small.

There weren't many words on it.

It was only written hastily:

There were injured people in the main vehicle.

The secondary vehicle carries heavy medication.

Starting tomorrow afternoon.

The handwriting is terrible.

It's so bad it looks like they deliberately didn't want anyone to recognize the handwriting.

But that's enough to convey the meaning.

Those guarding outside were moved to a different location overnight.

That's enough to make the final cut land on the softest, most valuable spot.

The room was quiet for a while.

In the end, it was Pei Zhao who spoke first.

"Brother, what should we do with this person?"

The porter turned pale upon hearing this.

"My lord! My lord, spare my life! I was only greedy for money, I truly didn't know who was behind me..."

"You know enough."

Yang Xuan folded the paper roll and put it back on the table.

"At least for now, it's enough."

The porter was taken aback.

Pei Zhao and Cui Shen realized it almost at the same time.

He cannot die yet.

It also cannot disappear immediately.

Because this mouth will still be useful after we break camp before dawn tomorrow.

Only after those outside believe the message has been successfully sent out will people continue to go to the Three-Fork Pavilion to wait the next afternoon.

Those who come up empty-handed will reveal more of themselves.

Yang Xuan looked at the porter, his tone remaining flat.

"You'll live tonight."

"The premise is that from now on, you will do whatever I tell you to do."

"Do you understand?"

The porter nodded hurriedly.

"Understood! Understood!"

"very good."

Yang Xuan turned her head to look at Pei Zhao.

"Take him to the empty woodshed at the back."

"Don't tie it too tightly, or you won't be able to walk tomorrow morning."

"Don't shut him up. I want him to say it again later in the night, so that certain people can feel more at ease."

Pei Zhao grinned.

"Understood."

This is to use the porter to complete the charade.

Only after the person was dragged out did the tension in the room finally ease.

But even though things have come to a head, no one dares to think that the matter is over.

Because what was truly valuable that night was not just capturing a mouthpiece who delivered the message.

It was only after they caught it that everyone finally saw it clearly.

There are indeed hands in Yongxing Post Station.

Indeed, some people in the group were lured away by money.

These two layers of threats are not mere guesswork.

It has already become a tangible reality.

Yanhe then slowly spoke:

"Should we wake everyone up right now?"

"No."

Yang Xuan shook his head.

"The less we know tonight, the better, except for a few of us."

"As soon as it gets light, only let Uncle Wen and a few other elderly people surnamed Dong who live nearby know, so that the absence of people near the main vehicle will attract attention."

"Are the rest of you still planning to leave tomorrow afternoon?"

"As usual."

As Yang Xuan spoke, his gaze fell upon the increasingly deep darkness outside the window.

"And it needs to be made even more realistic."

"The fire will burn."

"The car will still be parked."

"The medicine is being prepared in the furnace as usual."

"If there are still eyes outside, let them see the whole show tonight."

Cui Shen couldn't help but ask:

"If anyone in the team becomes unstable when we break camp before dawn tomorrow..."

"Then let's watch it again."

Yang Xuan said softly.

"Tonight, I'm taking the first hand."

"Tomorrow morning, we'll see who will be the first to feel their legs go weak at the sight of blood."

He paused for a moment at this point.

After all that, the wound on my back still started to ache.

The pain was like a tidal wave.

Initially, the situation was contained by sheer willpower, but now that things have settled down, things are starting to turn around little by little.