Chapter 5

The carriage driver, Lao Gao, had completed his task by dropping off the lady with the surname Qiao, wrapping up the journey smoothly. 

Everything had gone according to plan. 

Lao Gao slipped the piece of silver into his money pouch, wiped the sweat from his brow, and thought about getting a cup of tea in the city. 

Since the lady was generous, he might even order an extra plate of snacks. 

The only downside was that the road was clogged, and it was uncertain when traffic would ease up. 

Having traveled far and wide over the years, Lao Gao had grown patient. He tilted his straw hat over his head, leaned against the carriage, and dozed off. 

About fifteen minutes later, a young man’s cheerful voice roused him: “Old man, would it be convenient to give us a lift? We’re heading into the city.” 

Startled, Lao Gao sat up straight and found two young men standing beside his carriage. 

The sight of the one in front made his eyes light up. 

The reason was simple: the young man was strikingly handsome, with bright, open features and an air of easy confidence. What made him even more remarkable was the warmth in his smile—there was neither arrogance nor aloofness in his demeanor. 

Lao Gao found it puzzling. A man with such looks and bearing didn’t seem like someone who couldn’t afford a ride. 

The thought passed quickly. Acting on instinct, Lao Gao jumped down from the carriage and greeted them enthusiastically: “Of course! Please, hop in!” 

The cheerful young man gave a friendly smile and nimbly climbed aboard. 

His companion, however, was a more reserved youth, looking somewhat melancholy. He carried a large bookcase on his back, making his already slender frame appear even more fragile. 

Noticing the weight of the burden, Lao Gao stepped forward to offer assistance. Just as he reached for the youth’s arm, the young man subtly pulled his elbow back, avoiding Lao Gao’s touch, and boarded on his own. 

Having encountered all kinds of people in his travels, Lao Gao wasn’t offended. He chuckled and glanced ahead. “Make yourselves comfortable, young gentlemen. The road’s about to clear, and we’ll be on our way soon.” 

The cheerful young man, however, scolded his companion: “Why’d you dodge? He was just trying to help you!” 

The reserved youth said nothing. 

The cheerful one pressed further. “Why are you acting like this again? Can’t you at least say something?” 

Still, the other remained silent. 

Lao Gao initially wanted to smooth things over with a “Don’t worry about it,” but upon sensing the tension between the two, he wisely kept quiet. 

The cheerful young man seemed naturally talkative, though. When his companion wouldn’t respond, he turned his attention to Lao Gao. “Why’s the road so packed? Must be something big happening, right?” 

Lao Gao was glad to have something to talk about and shared what he knew. 

Hearing the explanation, the young man clicked his tongue in amazement. 

The road ahead was finally starting to clear. With a slight flick of his whip, Lao Gao’s old horse began trotting forward. 

As they moved along, Lao Gao casually asked, “What brings you to the capital?” 

The cheerful young man replied, “I’m here to visit some relatives.” 

Lao Gao gave an understanding “Oh” and speculated, “Are you preparing for next year’s imperial examinations?” 

“That’s right!” the young man confirmed.

“Ah, so you’re a scholar!” 

Lao Gao felt honored and said, “The relative you’re going to must be quite an impressive person…” 

He secretly speculated—it could be a prestigious teacher or an influential official family. Judging by how handsome this young man was, perhaps he was even marrying into a wealthy family. 

But then, the young man said proudly, “Just so you know, I’m going to my cousin’s place!” 

Lao Gao: “…” 

He thought to himself, There’s no need to be so proud about that, is there? 

Since the young man called her “sister,” she must be younger. Isn’t it a bit odd for an elder brother to rely on his younger cousin? 

Lao Gao gave an awkward laugh and remained silent. But the talkative young man seemed to have opened the floodgates. 

“You have no idea—things are different now! My cousin has become quite well-off!” 

“She married into a good family, and the dowry alone filled several rooms!” 

“If I told you her current status, you’d probably be shocked!” 

Lao Gao listened with interest, not interrupting. As they were two or three miles away from the City Gate of Shendu they suddenly heard exclamations from the people riding behind them. 

“What? Are you saying that the young lady Zhang, whom the Prince of Lu’s Mansion had their eyes on, ended up being bought by someone else?!” 

The voice was loud and clear, carrying far down the road. Its implications were startling. 

Lao Gao instinctively pulled on the reins, trying to catch more of the conversation, when suddenly the clatter of hooves and panicked shouts came from behind. 

His heart tightened as he steered the cart toward the roadside, but it was too late. 

A powerful force hit from behind, causing the carriage to groan under the impact. 

His old horse, startled and terrified, bolted forward. The wheels wobbled dangerously, and despite Lao Gao gripping the reins with all his might, he was thrown off the cart and dragged for nearly ten meters before the frightened horse finally stopped. 

In the summer heat, his thin clothing was quickly torn to shreds, leaving his back scraped raw. Gravel and dust ground into his wounds, staining his clothes with blood. 

Dizzy and disoriented, Lao Gao lay sprawled on the ground, the world spinning around him. Through his blurred vision, he saw the smiling young man crawl out of the tilted carriage, shaking the gloomy youth beside him. 

“My father -In-law is injured! Go check on him!” 

The youth slowly sat up and first adjusted the large book satchel on his back. 

The talkative young man became anxious. “Why are you acting like a mute? Say something!” 

Despite the situation, Lao Gao couldn’t help but chuckle. 

A mute? How would a mute speak? 

The pale youth calmly walked over, crouched down, and placed his hands on Lao Gao’s injured back. 

To Lao Gao’s surprise, the youth’s hands were warm. 

After making sure the injuries weren’t fatal, the youth methodically retrieved tools from his satchel. He cut away Lao Gao’s torn clothing and used tweezers to remove gravel embedded in the wounds. 

Next, he handed Lao Gao a round wooden stick, about the thickness of a wrist. 

Lao Gao hesitated for a moment before understanding. He opened his mouth and bit down on the stick. 

The youth poured some liquid over the wounds, and the stinging pain made Lao Gao clench his teeth. Through the haze of pain, his gaze drifted toward the rear of the road. 

It seemed they had been caught in an unfortunate disaster. The real victims of the collision were those traveling behind them—a group of merchants transporting silk to the capital. Their caravan had been overturned by a stampede of horses charging wildly from behind, leaving several people lying motionless on the ground, surrounded by pools of blood. 

The merchants’ goods lay scattered, their silks trampled into unrecognizable rags. 

The chaos had erupted in an instant. The merchants’ leader, his eyes bloodshot and his body trembling, stared helplessly at the rampaging horses among his fallen comrades. “Stop them… someone, please stop them…” 

A squad of black-clad riders formed a line on the road, reining in their horses as they observed the scene from above.

Travelers on the road shrank back in silence, not daring to approach. 

At that moment, the sound of hooves echoed once more. 

The black-clad riders parted, making way for an official: Wang Qun,and Wang Changwen from the East Pavillion Chief Priest of Prince of Lu’s Mansion, rode forward expressionlessly. 

Wang Qun surveyed the devastation and the injured merchants with cold detachment. Suddenly, he smiled. 

He urged his horse forward and cracked a whip across the back of one of the frenzied horses, now standing still and panting heavily. “Ah, these beasts are so unruly—they’ve caused quite the trouble!” 

The horse, startled by the whip, leaped forward on its hind legs. 

The merchants’ leader, despair etched on his face, whispered hopelessly, “No… please…” 

Just then, a whistling sound split the air, swift and powerful. 

The crowd watched as the rearing horse suddenly collapsed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. 

Upon closer inspection, they saw a white-feathered arrow lodged deep in the horse’s head, more than halfway in. 

A hush fell over the crowd. 

Wang Qun’s expression shifted as he turned his horse around to see where the arrow had come from. 

A group of riders approached on tall horses. At the forefront was a middle-aged man with a trimmed beard, wearing a crimson, narrow-sleeved robe belted with jade. He held a bow in one hand, his presence commanding. 

Wang Qun’s eyes flickered with recognition, and he hurriedly dismounted, offering a respectful bow. “So it’s the Duke Xing! Thank you for your timely intervention. Without you, who knows what disaster might have unfolded!” 

The Duke Xing reined in his horse, his tone indifferent. “Is that all you have to say?”

Wang Qun hesitated for a moment, then gestured toward the black-clad riders behind him. A few of them dismounted, seized the wild horses, and tied them to the roadside. Then, without a word, they drew their swords.      

Lao Gao couldn’t help but close his eyes. 

After a few heart-wrenching cries, the heavy thud of bodies falling reached his ears. 

Wang Qun pulled a few silver notes from his sleeve, approached the merchant leader with a deeply apologetic expression, and handed them over with both hands, sighing in frustration. “The prince sent me to buy Miss Zhang to bring her into the household. Who would have thought things would end up this way? Instead of accomplishing that, I have to use the money here.” 

The merchant leader felt as if the blood in his body was draining away, just like the lifeless horses lying on the roadside. 

He regretted bitterly, wondering why he hadn’t kept his subordinates from talking too much. 

But beyond regret, what consumed him was a burning anger and agonizing pain: So, just because of a few words, people had to die? 

The rage gave way to helplessness. 

He didn’t even dare reach out for the money. 

With a stiff smile, he forced his bitterness down, saying, “Who could’ve predicted such a thing? Your own horses were lost too…”

He almost wanted to slap himself for saying that. 

Several lives, equated to a few horses?!

Damn it, damn it! 

Wang Qun firmly shoved the silver notes into the merchant leader’s hands. “Take it. If you don’t, are you disrespecting me? Or the Duke of Xing?” 

The leader had no choice but to accept the notes. 

Having finished this task, Wang Qun returned to the Duke of Xing, offering him a grateful bow. “I can’t thank you enough for today, Your Grace!” 

The duke asked, “Nothing more to say?” 

Wang Qun hesitated, forcing a bitter smile. “I swear I didn’t intend for this to happen!” 

He clasped his hands together in repeated bows. “The horses that caused the trouble have been killed, and the victims compensated. Please, Your Grace, show some mercy…” 

The Duke of Xing’s expression finally softened. “Fine. You should know by now that I’ve always had a habit of meddling in things.” 

Wang Qun quickly responded, “You are a just and righteous man!” 

The duke nodded slightly, as if about to say something, but his expression suddenly changed to alarm. “Damn beast—!” 

The next moment, his horse reared up on its hind legs. 

Wang Qun’s face instantly turned pale, and he tried to dodge—but it was too late! 

The horse trampled over him, its hooves crushing his body as it galloped off into the distance. 

The duke’s guards immediately gave chase, shouting, “Your Grace!” 

The crowd watched the group ride off. When they returned their attention to the scene, Wang Qun’s body was a mangled, bloody mess, trampled beyond recognition. 

A heavy silence fell over the area. 

Two guards from the Duke of Xing’s group stayed behind. One of them apologized to the dumbfounded soldiers of the prince’s household: “Who would’ve thought this would happen?”

The other comforted the merchant leader. “You should gather your things quickly—it’s not wise to linger on the road, especially in this summer heat.” 

He added, “Where are you headed? I can travel with you.” 

The merchant leader looked at him with gratitude, then suddenly remembered the man ahead, whose cart had been caught up in the chaos. 

He hurried over to check on Lao Gao. 

Lao Gao’s wounds had already been treated. He sat by the roadside, loosely wrapped in a thin garment. 

The merchant leader handed him a silver note worth fifty taels. “I deeply apologize for the trouble you were dragged into.” 

Lao Gao wanted to accept it but felt a bit awkward. 

People in their group really did lose their lives… 

But if he refused, wouldn’t he have suffered for nothing? 

And there was his broken cart… 

After expressing his thanks repeatedly, Lao Gao finally accepted the money. 

Meanwhile, the surviving merchants were carrying the bodies of the deceased, and passersby with some time to spare lent a hand, helping pick up the scattered fabrics. 

Several people had died instantly from the trampling, but one man was still clinging to life, groaning faintly. 

Lao Gao’s kind heart stirred. 

He wanted to suggest, There’s a skilled young doctor here, though he doesn’t talk much! 

The treatment on my back already made the pain vanish! 

But then he thought, If the young doctor hasn’t stepped forward himself, he probably doesn’t want to get involved. I’ve already benefited from his kindness—how can I drag him into this without his consent?

With a twinge of guilt, Lao Gao remained silent. 

He glanced back and saw the quiet young doctor squatting by the roadside like a child, staring at the lifeless horses that had been executed for their rampage. 

The horses lay silently in the ditch, their once-bright eyes now clouded over, with faint, crystalline tears clinging to their lashes—tears shed in the final moments between life and death. 

… 

Gongsun Yan hesitated for a moment, then reached out to gently pat the young doctor on the shoulder. “Doctor Bai…” 

The melancholy young man brushed his hand away coldly and turned to glare at him. 

His voice, hoarse from disuse, carried a bitter edge: “These were very good horses.” 

Gongsun Yan’s expression darkened slightly. 

He could tell that the horses had already been injured before they were put down. 

The daggers driven into their shoulder blades had torn through flesh, causing unbearable pain and forcing them to run wild. 

Gongsun Yan wanted to say something in defense but felt powerless. 

All he could do was remain silent. 

Bai Ying stood up, his demeanor returning to its usual listless state. In a flat voice, he said: “There is nothing more disgusting than people.”