spoiled brat

Chapter 156, Section 155: The Frost's Startling Touch (Part 5)

"The person still hasn't been found?"

Minister Jiang, his temples white with worry, was served morning tea by a servant, but he refused to take a sip, saying, "It's been three days already."

Why should Father care about that poor fool?

Jiang Ying sipped her cheese and mumbled, "You kindly assigned him a task, wanting him to show his face first, but he just slipped away without even saying goodbye. What an ungrateful wretch!"

Minister Jiang shook his head and said firmly, "Don't make hasty judgments. Young Master Xie is not the kind of person you describe."

What's so great about that guy surnamed Xie?

Jiang Ying recalled his simple-minded look, pouted in disgust, and was about to mutter a few more words when Li Qingwen, who was sitting silently to the side, spoke up: "The teacher is right."

He sighed softly, "Young Master Xie is honest and straightforward, yet he is knowledgeable about matters. There must have been a mistake this time, which is why he rashly left his post."

When Minister Jiang saw that Li Qingwen had dark circles under his eyes and looked tired, he knew that Li had stayed outside the city to take care of the refugees again last night. He had changed and tidied up before dawn and hurriedly came to the mansion to inquire about his well-being and offer his morning greetings.

Such filial piety is flawless and truly rare.

Li Qingwen knew that the man was sizing him up, and was about to take the opportunity to say a few flattering words when a servant outside the door said, "Master, someone from the Prince of Ning's residence requests an audience."

"Please."

The door opened slightly, and dust rose in the sunlight.

Zhao Zhao stepped in, glanced at Li Qingwen with a cool sideways glance, then suppressed her hatred and cupped her hands in greeting:
"Lord Jiang, Young Master Xie has not returned to the official academy for many days. May I ask if he is at your residence?"

She was Xiu Ning's maid, so asking this question was not considered inappropriate. Minister Jiang replied, "To be honest, Young Master Xie has been missing for three days, and I do not know where he has gone."

Zhao Zhao glanced to the side and said meaningfully, "You don't know either, Lord Li?"

Li Qingwen remained calm and steadily set down his teacup: "I work with Young Master Xie. I reported his disappearance to the yamen as soon as I found out. Miss Yuan, there's no need to worry. I'll send someone to inform you as soon as I have any news."

He was fearless, confident that Zhao Zhao had no concrete evidence of his wrongdoing, and that no one would believe him if he revealed his dirty deeds; on the contrary, it would only tarnish his own reputation.

Knowing that there was no point in staying any longer, Zhao Zhao coldly said, "Then thank you very much, Lord Li," and then bowed and took her leave.

As soon as she left, Li Qingwen, who had finished serving breakfast, stepped out of the side door. Outside the door, a sedan chair had been waiting for a long time. This was the one Jiang Ying had specially hired to take him to his official duties.

Li Qingwen didn't actually like riding in a sedan chair. It was a bamboo chair with a pole tied to it, placed on the shoulders of two porters in front and behind him. He was high up, but it swayed and looked like it might fall at any moment.

Moreover, there was no curtain, leaving his official position exposed to the common people, which somewhat diminished his prestige.

But he still lifted his robe and sat down, firstly because it was cool to sit on the sedan chair, and secondly because someone was coming later.

Today was market day, and the bustling city was crowded with people. To keep their balance, the two porters bent over slightly, and Li Qingwen lowered himself down a bit.

As soon as he descended, the person he was waiting for arrived. An old man selling fried dough sticks came up to him, his messy hair covering his face, and even his calls for sale were indistinct.

The old man followed the sedan chair for a while, and amidst the noise of the crowd, he said in a voice that only Li Qingwen could hear, "The matter was handled very cleanly, Erlang, don't worry."

Li Qingwen lowered his eyes, stared at the crowd of people at his feet for a while, and asked in a tone of complete unfamiliarity, "Uncle, how much is one of your pancakes?"

The old man held up his rough fingers, saying that two coins would suffice.

Li Qingwen rolled up his sleeves, and the bag of money he threw down was heavy, hitting the carrying pole with a thud.

The old man was stunned for a moment, and was quickly thrown far away by the sedan chair.

If he were truly a street vendor, he should be overjoyed, but he wasn't. So he took out some oil paper, wrapped the pancake in it, and squeezed through the surging crowd to catch up with the figure he had watched grow up.

Humbly, even tactlessly, he handed something to the nobleman on the sedan chair: "...Sir, here's what you wanted." Li Qingwen hadn't expected him to follow, so he frowned slightly, but quickly relaxed his grip and took the cake from those dirty hands.

Seeing the old man clutching the silver pouch, hesitating to put it into his pocket, he said calmly, "No need to look for me, old man, you should go now."

Some money shouldn't be given, and some money shouldn't be accepted. The old man still wanted to return it, but seeing Li Qingwen's seemingly impatient expression, he dazedly withdrew his hand that was raised in mid-air, picked up his carrying pole, and disappeared into the crowd.

He left, he left dejectedly.

Li Qingwen knew perfectly well what was going on, but he didn't turn around. He just counted the days in his mind, and when he was a little distance away, he casually tossed the pancake to the beggar on the roadside.

It's greasy; he's now Lord Li and doesn't like eating these things anymore.

That person always thought he hadn't grown up, believing him to be the beggar who used to fight dogs for food years ago.

Li Qingwen wiped the oily smell off his hands with a towel, then tossed it down instead of putting it back in his sleeve, where it landed on the head of some vendor at his feet.

Just as we were about to leave the bustling city, a commotion erupted ahead, the voices booming loudly, sounding like soldiers:
"Thief on the road! Block the road! Catch the thief!"

The common people panicked and stood frozen in place, while the porters carrying the sedan chair dared not move and timidly looked up at the seat: "Sir, the road ahead is blocked, and we may not be able to get through for a while."

Such a thing is rare, and Li Qingwen considered himself unlucky. He was in a hurry to get to his post and couldn't afford to be delayed, so he had the porter unload the pole.

He got up from his seat, intending to use his official position to speak with the soldier in charge, and borrowed a horse to head straight out of the city.

After squeezing forward a few steps, Li Qingwen stopped. The roadblocks were not made by government officials, but by guards from the Prince of Ning's residence.

Someone bumped into my back, and when I turned around, I saw a group of peddlers rushing towards me in a panic, fearing that I had been unjustly attacked.

When Li Qingwen spotted the old man among the vendors, his expression hardened, and he had a vague premonition that something was wrong.

Sure enough, soldiers immediately surrounded the peddler and him as well.

The peddlers around him cried and wailed, shouting that they were wronged, but Li Qingwen coldly stared ahead. He saw the soldiers part to the sides, and a man who looked like a shopkeeper tiptoed up.

Needless to say, this is the victim of the theft.

He was wronged, but his expression showed no anger. He raised his hand in bewilderment, tracing the faces of each peddler, too lost to point at anyone.

Li Qingwen sneered inwardly, having made up his mind.

Sure enough, the next moment a hand landed on the victim's shoulder, and Zhao Zhao's voice was as light as the force of her pat: "Do you recognize which one is the thief?"

"I recognize him, I recognize him." The wronged man nodded hesitantly. The silver he had put into his pocket was still warm. He didn't know what this nobleman wanted to do, but how could he refuse someone from the Prince Ning's mansion?

He kept a straight face, pointed his finger into the crowd, and the few peddlers who were pointed to cried even louder as the soldiers drove them forward.

Only a dirty old man lagged behind, silent and not uttering a single word of pleading.

Zhao Zhao stood with her arms crossed and ordered her men, "Search them." Then she strolled off casually.

She wore a horse-face skirt, dark blue with silver shimmering, the pleats sharp and clean, moving like a rippled spring or the gleaming tip of a knife, its shimmering light cinching her strong waist.

Li Qingwen stared coldly at the sword at her waist, its frost-white blade as bright as the moon. With each step, the jade pendant jingled loudly.

Suddenly, the sound stopped. Zhao Zhao seemed to only notice him now, and said with a smile, "Lord Li, we meet again."

So she can act too. Li Qingwen smiled coldly and said, "What a coincidence."

If it's a coincidence that Zhao Zhao followed behind him the whole way.