Besides lying down, I also know a little about power struggles

Chapter 44 To tell or not to tell

Fang Tong scratched Feng Twelve's arm and really wanted to tell him this man's identity, but he couldn't speak human language.

Should I write on the ground for him to see?
As soon as this thought came to her mind, she rejected it.

No, she was not ready to be discovered. Even if the other party was Feng Twelve, she did not want to be exposed easily.

A person who traveled through time and space from another world, a cat, and the identity of an assassin, no matter how you explain it, it would be difficult.

"The two men's inner garments are made of fine cotton, and their boots are made of blue satin, which is from the south," said Feng Twelve. "Ordinary bandits wouldn't be so particular."

"They claim to be bandits from the north and they are very generous. Could it be that they stole the clothes or bought them themselves?" asked the driver.

Feng Twelve looked at the two corpses on the ground and thought deeply, "Southern satin is produced in the southern coastal area, while people in the north mostly use northern satin. Although this place is between the north and the south, it used to be a wasteland. Ten years ago, the court moved refugees from the north to settle here. The locals are more accustomed to buying household goods from the north, and the slightly more affluent families only use northern satin."

"So these people came from the south?" the driver asked. "Did they hide their identities?"

"It's still unknown." Feng Twelve said, "But with the skills of these people, they shouldn't force themselves to obey the orders of a group of remnants of bandits."

Fang Tong listened to his analysis, his mind spinning.

Why did the assassin from Bai Niaoge sneak into the bandit's lair? This group of bandits doesn't seem to be profitable.

She couldn't help but suspect that the assassin came specifically to target Feng Twelve.

This happened during the last Spring Hunt, when the assassins from the White Bird Pavilion were ordered to kill Prince Ping. This time the target became Feng Twelve. Since they are all princes, it seems reasonable.

But it is precisely because he is a prince that it is difficult to understand.

How could Shiratori Pavilion, a civil organization, be so bold as to attack the royal family again and again?

Last time, the imperial court issued an order requiring local government to clear out the strongholds of Bai Niao Pavilion. If she were the leader of Bai Niao Pavilion, she would ask her subordinates to keep a low profile and never take on the business of assassinating the royal family, even if it meant giving up her foundation.

Thinking of this, Fang Tong felt a chill down his spine again.

She almost forgot that she was also on the list of those being purged, and her name was listed separately in a separate row.

Her eyes dimmed and she lay listlessly in Feng Twelve's arms, feeling that the future was bleak.

Feng Twelve's arm sank, and he saw the kitten resting its chin on his arm, looking listless.

He thought of the blood on her body, and stopped talking immediately, saying to the driver, "Clean up here and talk about it after we go down the mountain."

He carried the kitten to the stream, soaked his handkerchief, and wiped the coagulated blood off her back.

"Okay." He put her in the sun to dry her fur.

Fang Tong turned her head to look at her back, but it was no good. She still felt sticky and uncomfortable all over.

She took advantage of Feng Twelve's back and jumped into the stream with a "thump", immersing herself completely in the water, with only her head floating on the surface.

Feng Twelve turned his head and saw this scene. He took two steps forward and then stopped, with a hint of helplessness and amusement in his eyes.

Fang Tong stared at him with her eyes wide open. What was she laughing at? She was a good citizen who abided by the law. What was wrong with being afraid of death? She was not like him, who could strangle a living person more efficiently than killing a chicken.

Feng Twelve met her accusing gaze, put away the smile on his lips, squatted down, and put the blood-stained handkerchief in the water to wash it.

A few faint traces of blood spread along the water. Fang Tong saw it at a glance and subconsciously moved back.

She just rinsed it clean, so as not to get it on again.

Feng Twelve noticed her action and paused.

He forgot that she was a girl, and no matter how curious she was, it could not outweigh her fear. She looked like she was seeing a dead body for the first time, and the scene of blood and flesh flying everywhere must have scared her.

He lowered his eyes, wrung out the wet towel, and instructed, "Soak for a while and come out."

After saying this, he stood up and walked away, returning to the carriage.

The driver put the harness on the horse and said, "Your Highness, shall we set off now?" "Wait a moment." Feng Twelve picked up the horse's mane and combed it. "Did you leave a mark?"

"Leave it behind," the driver replied, "our people will know it at a glance."

Feng Twelve nodded: "After we get down the mountain, find the nearest village and pass the news of the bandits to the local headman and have them report it to the government office."

"Will your Highness' whereabouts be exposed?" the coachman worried.

Feng Twelve turned his head and looked in the direction of the capital: "If this group of bandits is coming for me, it doesn't matter whether I am exposed or not."

"But we kept our departure from the capital very secret. No one knew about it except our own people."

"The Crown Prince's southern tour is a big deal, and there are countless people watching in and outside the capital." Feng Twelve said, "If we go further, we will reach the southern border. After passing Linshui County, we don't have to hide our identities anymore."

"Then should we rest in Linshui County?" asked the driver.

Feng Twelve put down the horse's mane comb and took a handful of black beans from the grain bag to feed the horse. "It's still three days from here to Linshui County. We'll talk about it when we get there."

When Fang Tong came back from washing the fur, he saw Feng Twelve standing by the carriage feeding the horses.

The horse lowered its head obediently and ate the black beans from Feng Twelve's hand. Its large almond-like eyes were moist and it snorted contentedly while eating.

Fang Tong looked at them with envy and she also wanted to feed the horses.

Feng Twelve stroked the horse's neck and caught a glimpse of a white shadow jumping onto the shaft of the cart.

He picked up the kitten.

"Don't scare the horse."

Fang Tong shook her ears. Haha, she stopped liking the kitten so quickly and now feels sorry for the horse. Is she such an ignorant cat?

She shook her body in his arms, causing water droplets to splash everywhere.

Feng Twelve narrowed his eyes slightly and turned his head to avoid the oncoming water drops.

Even so, his neck was still somewhat wet, and the kitten kept burrowing into his arms, wetting a large area of ​​the fabric on his chest and sleeves.

Feng Twelve grabbed her neck and pulled her away.

Fang Tong raised his head and looked at him innocently.

Feng Twelve stroked the tuft of hair on her forehead and smoothed it out: "Why don't you dry it in the sun before coming back?"

What are you sunbathing for? Fang Tong thought, someone just died here, what if there are pursuers? It is better to leave early.

Feng Twelve couldn't hear what she was thinking, but seeing the kitten looking around, he knew that she didn't take his words seriously.

He shook his head and carried her into the carriage.

There were several secret compartments on the inner wall of the car. His fingers slid across the middle layer, paused for a moment, and then moved down a few inches.

He opened the secret compartment, took out a clean cloth, spread it on the bench, and put the kitten on it.

Fang Tong's eyes went dark and he felt himself being wrapped in a thick cloth.

Just as she was about to break free, she was held down by Feng Twelve.

A pair of big hands rubbed her from head to toe through a towel, and she felt as if she was in a bathhouse in Northeast China.

The one who does the scrubbing feels good, while the one who is being scrubbed feels pain.

Fang Tong was howling under the handkerchief.

Be gentle! Her hair!

(End of this chapter)