The First Lackey Under The Empress

As Zhao Du'an gave the order, the Wangfu experts didn't hesitate and crashed into the crowd.

The burly man with iron bracers grinned, drawing his blade with a 'clang,' the straight edge instantly glowing red-hot.

Like a weapon being forged in a blacksmith's furnace, he lunged from the left flank, instantly cleaving a similarly robust Jianghu man away.

The sword-bearing woman, in her thirties, glanced at the group of villagers; not even drawing the slender sword in her hand, she floated into the crowd from the right.

Her hands unleashed a storm of palm strikes, each landing sending someone flying with a wail.

Those sent by the Prince of Huai'an to protect his precious daughter were naturally hand-picked Jianghu experts.

At this moment.

Intent on showing off and currying favor with Zhao Du'an, they naturally went all out.

Without holding anything back.

In an instant, they sent Song Family Village's martial artists scattering like fallen leaves.

"Take this sword!"

Xie, the head instructor wearing a short shirt with thick, dark eyebrows, paled, his sword already drawn.

Instantly using a 'Lost Track Step,' he closed in on the wealthy young master.

However, the team of young men and women showed no sign of tension, merely looking down with indifference.

The next second, the plain-robed old man, who had been empty-handed, opened and closed his eyes, simply saying:

"Insolent beyond measure!"

Then, Instructor Xie's vision blurred; only a residual image flashed by before a stiff, stinging sensation, as if struck by lightning, coursed through his body.

With a 'clatter,'

the sword in his hand fell to the ground, and Lu Qingfeng pressed a hand on his forehead, sternly rebuking:

"Kneel!"

The highly paid swordsman, who also had a reputation in the Jianghu, felt as if Mount Tai was pressing down on him, all the energy in his body locked down.

But a martial artist has their own tenacity; he stubbornly strained, veins bulging on his forehead, sweat like mud.

His knees remained as if rusted in place, desperately maintaining the last vestige of a martial artist's dignity.

Lu Qingfeng felt Zhao Du'an's gaze on him, a smile that was not a smile, and couldn't help but feel his old face flush, a hint of shame flashing in his eyes.

No longer holding back, he pressed down again with all his strength.

"Thump!"

The middle-aged man in the blue short shirt couldn't resist and knelt miserably.

His hands braced against the ground, he spat out a mouthful of stagnant blood, his eyes filled with terror.

"Alright, enough of a lesson, no need to really hurt anyone," Zhao Du'an said casually.

Only then did Lu Qingfeng leisurely withdraw his hand, suppressing the trace of killing intent from earlier:

"Yes."

At this time, the sword-wielding woman and knife-bearing man also returned to report:

"Young Master."

In just a moment, the group of martial artists who had arrived so aggressively were beaten into disarray.

Nearby.

The Song clan members who had come to watch the excitement were as if they had seen a ghost, each pale with fright, not daring to move in fear.

"Teacher… Master… You…"

On the ground.

The boy called Xiao Wu barely sat up and saw this scene, already scared out of his wits.

Seeing the incredibly powerful Jianghu expert in his eyes kneeling beside him, no match for the old man.

How could he not understand that he had offended a truly important figure?

"Xiao Wu, is it?"

Zhao Du'an still smiled like a spring breeze, as if he hadn't been the one to give the order earlier, now looking down at the boy, he said softly:

"I'll give you another chance, where is Song Juren's residence?"

"It's over there! I… I'll take you, Young Master!"

The boy stammered, no longer daring to glance at the princess, not even for a second.

…

Song Juren's residence was located in the center of the village, slightly to the north, and was an extremely elegant courtyard.

The courtyard had a full four layers, and a large area of well-trimmed, thriving ink bamboo was planted inside.

At a glance, one could tell that it was the result of the courtyard owner's careful care.

The so-called Four Gentlemen: plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum.

Everyone in the village knew that this courtyard of bamboo was the heart's delight of the Juren master.

It was extremely famous among the literati and officials of the entire Taicang Prefecture.

Song Juren was about fifty years old, and because he had family wealth and the reputation of being a disciple of Mr. Zhengyang, he had a wide circle of friends and was a guest of honor to many officials in the prefecture.

His status was revered.

Inside the study.

Song Juren, seven feet tall, dressed as a scholar, with a carefully groomed long beard imitating Mr. Zhengyang, was painting bamboo by the window.

Suddenly, he heard faint noises from the front courtyard.

Then, a family servant rushed in, looking panicked:

"Master! Something bad has happened! A group of outsiders has arrived, fierce and menacing, they injured Instructor Xie and the others as soon as they entered the village, and specifically asked to see you, they have already broken into the front courtyard!"

"What?!"

The nearly fifty-year-old Song Juren's face changed, his wrist shook, and a good half of the painting was ruined.

"Who are they? Did they bring government runners and soldiers?" he asked anxiously.

"There were no government runners, but they looked like the children of wealthy families… That man spoke Mandarin…"

Song Juren listened, looking puzzled, and put down his brush:

"I will go and meet them."

…

The central courtyard of the Song residence.

A group of family servants, and even the women in the residence, gathered in one place, and the injured middle-aged instructor was also among them, looking solemn and constantly reassuring the crowd.

The atmosphere was serious and tense.

"Hehe, it would have been better to cooperate earlier, this young master is reasonable. I never liked getting violent."

Zhao Du'an, in his brocade clothes, stood in the courtyard, admiring the well-maintained ink bamboo for a while.

He gently raised his hand and brushed the dust off the shoulder of the boy standing beside him with his head lowered.

But the sturdy boy was so frightened that he shivered.

"Master—"

At this time, the servants in the courtyard spoke up one after another.

Zhao Du'an raised his eyelids and saw a rather dignified scholar walking out from behind, he smiled:

"Are you Song Juren?"

The old Juren stepped into the central courtyard, and with just one glance, his heart was shocked.

His vision was far superior to that of these clan members.

Although he didn't know the other party's identity, the restrained nobility on the young men and women was definitely not something that small families could possess.

Especially that woman, who was even a cut above the rest.

"I am indeed the owner of this place, may I ask for your honorable names, and is there… some kind of misunderstanding?"

The old Juren took the lead in cupping his hands, his attitude was good.

Zhao Du'an smiled and patted the boy's shoulder gently:

"Tell your elders, so that this young master won't have to fabricate things."

The boy's nose felt sore, and he immediately recounted the whole process in detail, hesitating for a moment, but still dared not lie.

The old Juren's face changed slightly, and he immediately rebuked in a deep voice, ordering the boy to apologize, and then looked at Instructor Xie.

The latter was worthy of being a Jianghu person, having lost, he no longer had any temper.

Suppressing his shame and indignation, he clasped his fists and bowed:

"This humble one offended the young master, with many offenses…"

Lu Qingfeng snorted coldly:

"Offended? This old man thinks you were quite ruthless in your attacks."

The middle-aged instructor was sweating profusely.

Only then did Song Juren notice the plain-robed old man, stunned for a moment, carefully looked at him for a while, and said uncertainly:

"Could you be Mr. Lu?"

Lu Qingfeng nodded slightly, arrogantly:

"It's been more than ten years since we met, the Song family has actually found such a blind and incompetent person to guard the village."

… The old Juren became more and more suspicious, and his gaze towards Zhao Du'an and Xu Junling became more humble:

"Young master, may we go to the hall to talk further?"

You know what's good for you, you didn't even give me a chance to lose my temper… Zhao Du'an smiled:

"Alright."

The old Juren immediately personally led the way, guiding the group to the inner hall.

After the middle-aged instructor and the others left, they first breathed a sigh of relief before grabbing an old servant in the residence:

"Who is this Mr. Lu, is he acquainted with the Juren master?"

The old servant, who had been in the Song family for many years, carefully explained:

"More than just acquainted? Back then, the old family head was…"

After he finished telling an old story, the blue-shirted instructor was struck by lightning:

"You said, he is Lu Qingfeng? The martial arts Lu family's man from the Jianghu?"

At this moment, Instructor Xie, also a Jianghu martial artist, suddenly remembered the story of how the Devil Lu used to kill people like drinking water in the Jianghu, and cold sweat soaked his clothes in fear.

Only then did he understand that if that handsome young master hadn't spoken in time, he would have already died.

"The Devil Lu has been in seclusion for many years, what kind of identity does that young master have to be able to command him?"

The middle-aged instructor's heart trembled.

…

Inner hall.

Zhao Du'an and Xu Junling took their seats, leaving Lu Qingfeng and the other two guarding outside the hall to prevent eavesdropping.

"This old one has failed to teach the clan members properly, and will definitely punish them severely."

Song Juren personally served tea, his posture humble.

Zhao Du'an waved his hand, not caring at all:

"Put this matter aside, we have come here today to handle some business."

The old Juren slowly sat down, looking puzzled:

"Please speak, esteemed guests, by the way, may I ask what your names are?"

Xu Junling wore a sweet smile and said lightly:

"Who we are, there is no need for the old gentleman to ask too much."

The old Juren's heart skipped a beat, and he heard Zhao Du'an go straight to the point:

"I don't like nonsense, I'm here to ask only one thing, are you acquainted with Song Tiju of the Mining Tax Bureau?"

The old Juren's pupils contracted slightly, and then he hid his expression very well, saying:

"Song Tiju, yes, we are in the same place, of course I know him, although Song Tiju is not from my branch of the Song family, but if you talk about it, we are related within five generations."

This matter could not be concealed, so he simply admitted it.

Zhao Du'an sat casually, almost leaning back in the lacquer-skinned, smooth, black-purple carved wooden chair.

He played with a jade tiger artifact on the table, said "Oh," and said:

"Then you should also know about the news of Song Tiju's disappearance."

"… I have heard a little, it is said that it involves a silver mine case. But I don't know the specifics."

Don't know… Zhao Du'an's eyes flickered, and he smiled:

"Don't know? But as far as I know, Song Tiju seems to have left something here with you, is there such a thing?"

The old Juren looked blank:

"Where did you hear such nonsense, young master? I don't know."

"Don't have it?"

"Although this old one is considered a friend of Song Tiju, it is only limited to a gentleman's friendship, there has been nothing else."

Zhao Du'an stopped playing with the jade tiger.

He squinted his eyes, staring at the fifty-year-old Juren, the hall was silent for a moment.

After examining him for a long time, Zhao Du'an said softly:

"I am a kind person, even though your nephew offended me, I gave him two chances. I will now give you another chance to answer again, do you have it or not?"

This light inquiry carried a suffocating pressure.

"Young master, this old one really doesn't know what you are referring to."

Song Juren became a little anxious, explaining as if he had been wronged.

Hearing this, Zhao Du'an sighed softly, a hint of disappointment flashed in his eyes, mixed with indifference:

"Why are there always people who don't appreciate kindness?"

Beside him.

Xu Junling smiled and said, "Perhaps the old gentleman doesn't trust you."

"No… this old one really doesn't know…"

The old man who liked to paint bamboo defended himself somewhat agitatedly.

Zhao Du'an's palms closed slightly, with a cracking sound, the jade tiger opened a crack.

Then it was crushed, and powder fell from between his fingers…

"Mr. Lu," Zhao Du'an said to the outside with a smile:

"I think the bamboo in the courtyard is not bad, chop it down and use it as firewood."

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