When the guards at the other city gates learned of the turmoil within the city, fear gripped each one of them.
Previously, relying on their positions as gatekeepers, they had offended many people. If anyone decided to take revenge, their lives would be forfeit.
A few soldiers hastily packed their belongings and fled with their families. Those who stayed hesitated, unsure of what to do. If they continued as before, forcibly detaining refugees, seizing their carts and grain, they would likely be torn apart with so few of them left.
After some discussion, the group decided to simply open the gates and charge only an entry fee. This way, they could still make money without inciting the refugees to attack them.
The middle-aged man on the road was still unaware of what was happening here. He continued leading people toward his bandit stronghold.
Lu Qianning and Luo Ling had traveled all day yesterday and set out early today, finally nearing Bozhou City. It was at this moment that the middle-aged man appeared on the official road.
As before, he was telling the refugees on the road how the soldiers were arresting people, trying to trick some into returning to his stronghold. Men would help hunt and work in the mountains, women would stay for pleasure, the elderly would be killed, and children would be handed over to the prefect.
Lu Qianning watched his demeanor, a cold glint flashing in her eyes. She sensed something was off about him, but they had no intention of walking into danger. Their strength was no match for Xi Qingyue’s.
She drew the sword at her waist and pressed its tip against the man’s neck, her gaze sharp. “Speak. What is your real purpose? I’ll count to three. Talk, or die.”
Blood trickled down the blade and dripped to the ground. Cold sweat beaded on the middle-aged man’s forehead as he felt the threat of death.
Gritting his teeth, he quickly confessed the truth. “It wasn’t me! It was the prefect—he made us do this. He said if I could keep most of the refugees for him, I could do whatever I wanted with the rest…”
Desperate to survive, he spilled everything about the situation in Bozhou City, insisting it was all the prefect’s doing.
Hearing his words, the refugees’ faces turned pale. The city they were headed to was a place that devoured people.
Lu Qianning burned with fury. A prefect of an entire province had sunk to such depths of depravity.
She took a deep breath and asked coldly, “Do the soldiers come here every day to take people into the city? When do they arrive?”
“Soon… in about half an hour, just up ahead.”
Lu Qianning glanced at the forests on either side of the road, her voice harsh. “How far away are your men? How many are there?”
“Fifty or so, hiding behind those woods. There are over two hundred more at the stronghold.”
As soon as the middle-aged man finished speaking, Lu Qianning lopped off his head with a single swing of her sword.
“Luo Ling, let’s go.”
Calling out, she led Luo Ling toward the woods. Dozens of bandits were no match for them.
After killing them, she would head to Bozhou and take the prefect’s head too.
“Quick, let’s follow! After they finish killing, we’ll take a detour through the mountains and skip Bozhou City,” a refugee shouted, running toward the woods. The others hesitated for a moment, then followed. Since danger lay ahead, they would take the mountain path, and with Lu Qianning and Luo Ling handling the bandits, they could help clear out the nearby threats. By the time the bandits in the stronghold realized something was wrong, they would already be long gone.
The men hiding in the woods were chatting and laughing leisurely. Every day, they took people from this spot without any trouble. When they saw Lu Qianning and Luo Ling approaching, their eyes lit up with delight, thinking they had tricked two wealthy young ladies into coming.
Before the grins could even fade from their faces, Lu Qianning and Luo Ling used light-footed martial arts to fly in front of them, drawing their swords and cutting them down. The dozens of bandits were caught completely off guard.
“Miss, let’s talk this out! Don’t just kill people!” some bandits shouted as they ran, cold sweat dripping in terror.
Lu Qianning paid them no heed. She and Luo Ling slaughtered the bandits without mercy. A few who tried to escape were blocked by a crowd of refugees and finished off with their knives.
Once everyone was dead, Lu Qianning and Luo Ling turned back toward the official road, leaving the refugees torn. Should they follow or not?
After some thought, the refugees decided not to. They chose to take the mountain detour instead. It would take longer, but it was safer.
Back on the official road, Lu Qianning and Luo Ling rode swiftly, the way smooth before them.
But they never encountered any soldiers coming to meet people, puzzling them. The bandit had said the soldiers would intentionally come to collect refugees, but there was no sign of them.
They rode all the way to the gates of Bozhou City.
Seeing the open gates and the listless guards, they were even more confused.
When the guards spotted two women approaching on horseback, they didn’t ask a single question. One simply held out his hand. “Five copper coins each.”
Luo Ling stepped forward, paid for both, and they swaggered into the city.
Once inside, Lu Qianning’s confusion deepened at the sight of the deserted streets. She and Luo Ling headed straight for the prefect’s residence.
When they saw a pile of ruins, both looked startled. Had the corrupt official gotten his comeuppance?
Luo Ling stopped a passing matron and pressed a piece of silver into her hand, smiling as she asked, “Ma’am, what happened here?”
The matron’s face lit up at the silver. Pointing gleefully at the ruins, she said, “Who knows? Last night, the prefect and all the officials in Bozhou were killed. The residence was burned down. The armory and granaries are gone, and even the patrol soldiers were slaughtered. The refugees killed people and fought their way out through the south gate in the night. A lot of people died—you can still see bodies over at the west camp.”
Hearing this, Lu Qianning fell into thought. According to Great Jing’s regulations, the prefect’s personal guard numbered three to four hundred, the armory and granary staff another three hundred, and the patrol at least six hundred. All of them killed in a single night? Could the refugees have numbered in the thousands?
She couldn’t help but ask, “Ma’am, about how many refugees were there?”
The matron hesitated before guessing, “Maybe over a thousand.”
Luo Ling gasped. “Over a thousand?”
She couldn’t fathom it. A thousand or so refugees—old, weak, and wounded—had killed over a thousand soldiers? And that was a conservative count.
Lu Qianning asked a few more questions, but the matron shook her head, knowing nothing more. Few people knew; everyone had woken up to find things as they were, with no one having seen a thing.
They thanked the matron and left the ruined residence, bought a few supplies in Bozhou, and continued on their journey.
Lu Qianning couldn’t do anything about what had happened in Bozhou. At least the city was stable enough.
She just found it odd. It seemed trouble followed her wherever she went. Did every city she pass through have to have its officials murdered?
The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. Was she cursed with bad luck?
