Xiao Chenyuan stepped down from the carriage, his expression grim. Though he felt QingWu's actions were audacious, her unusual behavior piqued his suspicions, prompting him to take another look at Mu Ying. At a closer glance, she did indeed seem somewhat familiar.
Mu Ying's condition was undeniably poor. Her mind seemed clouded, and one of her feet was bare—whether she hadn't worn a shoe to begin with or had lost it in her frantic escape was unclear. She continuously murmured the name "Yu Lang."
Xiao Chenyuan gave an order: "Help this woman into the carriage."
Mu Ying was assisted into the carriage. Though the royal carriage was spacious, she appeared terrified of the confined space and immediately began to struggle to escape.
"Don't lock me in! Don't!"
"Yu Lang! I need to find my Yu Lang!—"
Though she was frail and emaciated, her strength was astonishing. Both Lü Qiao and Hong Rui hesitated, fearing they might unintentionally hurt her.
Amid the chaos, QingWu reached out and firmly grasped Mu Ying's hand.
"No one will lock you in. Don't be afraid. It's all right, it's all right, okay...?"
Mu Ying continued to struggle, her nails scraping against QingWu's hand, leaving bloodied marks. Yet QingWu remained unmoved.
"Your Grace!" gasped Lü Qiao and Hong Rui.
QingWu held her grip steady, silently reciting a calming incantation in her heart. Her voice seemed to carry a soothing magic. Slowly, Mu Ying's terror ebbed away. She sat motionless like a puppet, her body still trembling but no longer aggressive. The two maids sighed in relief and quickly stepped in to assist.
Lü Qiao reached for some ointment, wanting to tend to QingWu's hand, but she shook her head. "First, check if Madam Mu has any injuries."
QingWu relinquished her spot and sat at the opposite end of the carriage. The smile she usually wore had vanished, replaced by an icy demeanor that made Lü Qiao and Hong Rui handle Mu Ying with even more care.
The voice of the Judgment Brush sounded in her mind.
"Ah Wu, you know her?"
"She's my cousin," QingWu replied.
"Ah, I see..." The brush hesitated. "She's looking for her child, isn't she? You've noticed it too, haven't you? The death aura around her children's palace—it's highly likely the child is already..."
QingWu remained silent. From the moment she first saw Mu Ying, she had noticed the ominous death aura circling her children's palace. It almost certainly meant tragedy had befallen her child.
"Although the death aura is present, there's a faint spark of vitality," QingWu said quietly. "Perhaps there's still a chance to save the child."
"That would require finding the child quickly," the Judgment Brush cautioned. "But your cousin doesn't seem to be in great condition herself. She's suffering from Soul Separation Syndrome. Her three ethereal and seven corporeal souls are unstable—imagine the torment she's endured to end up like this."
QingWu felt a restless unease in her heart. Mu Ying was six years older than her. Although she had only lived in the Zhen Guo Marquis family for a few years before getting married, those years were during QingWu's most unruly and mischievous phase—an age when even people and dogs couldn't tolerate her antics.
Her mother, a heroic woman and a military official, had little time to manage the household, and her father, preoccupied with military affairs, was no different. While her older brother, Yun Zheng, doted on her, he was ultimately a man and unable to fully oversee the inner courtyard. During those years, Mu Ying took great care of her.
In QingWu's memories, Mu Ying embodied the vigor of a military family, excelling in horseback riding and archery, yet she also carried the elegance and grace of an aristocratic lady, well-versed in literature and poetry. Moreover, she had remarkable culinary skills. Whenever QingWu said something sweet, Mu Ying would indulge her—even late at night, when QingWu got peckish. Mu Ying would get up, teasingly scold her as a "little reincarnated glutton," and prepare delicious snacks for her.
When QingWu left the capital, Mu Ying had just gotten married. Her husband was a top scholar, a man of humble origins. Marrying Mu Ying was a significant step up for him. For the next two years, while stationed at the border, QingWu occasionally received letters from Mu Ying. The content revealed a loving and harmonious marriage—her husband, the scholar, treated her with genuine care and affection.
And now... the Zhen Guo Marquis family had fallen. Although the Mu family had avoided being implicated thanks to the ironclad pardon bestowed by the late emperor, their influence had waned. Moreover, with no male heirs left, the family's decline was inevitable. Given Mu Ying's current state, it wasn't hard to imagine the kind of life she had endured over the past decade.
"Your Grace, I feel something is amiss with Lady Mu," Hong Rui suddenly spoke up. Supporting Mu Ying's hand, she gestured for QingWu to take a closer look.
QingWu fixed her gaze, her expression hardening. Mu Ying had grown so emaciated that her skin clung tightly to her bones. It was so thin that what lay beneath it was faintly visible. Beneath that frail layer of skin, something was clearly embedded.
In the next moment, Hong Rui extracted a needle from under Mu Ying's skin. The needle was as long as half a finger and so fine it was almost invisible, crafted with a peculiar flexibility that allowed it to bend.
QingWu's face darkened with a frightening intensity. Hong Rui gritted her teeth and said, "I've heard of a cruel punishment where silver needles, as fine as hair, are embedded into the flesh. They leave no external wounds, but every needle pierces deep, making walking, sitting, or lying unbearable. Over time, the victim either goes mad or succumbs to the torment and takes their own life."
The thought of living in constant agony, as if sitting on pins and needles, was already horrifying enough—let alone having needles embedded directly into the flesh! Mu Ying, now as limp as a marionette, was utterly unresponsive to the outside world. QingWu had found her posture odd before, but now it all made sense.
"How many more needles are embedded in her?"
Hong Rui's tone was heavy. "I fear there are many. Some locations aren't convenient to examine while in the carriage."
QingWu clenched her teeth in fury, barely suppressing her urge to unleash havoc. Her beloved Elder Sister Ying, once so bright and kind, had been subjected to such cruelty! What was the name of that zhuangyuan, again? Wang Sheng? She wondered how far he had climbed in the official ranks now.
As her thoughts churned, noise rose from outside the carriage. It seemed someone had come looking for Mu Ying. A flash of killing intent gleamed in QingWu's eyes. They had finally arrived.
Since their encounter with Mu Ying had been unplanned, the Dread King's carriage couldn't simply block the road, impeding travelers. Instead, it had been parked beside a teahouse. After being forcibly evicted from the carriage, Xiao Chenyuan had no intention of standing idly outside and had gone into the teahouse to wait. Already uncomfortable from earlier, the blow from QingWu's iron head technique had only worsened his condition, leaving him in an even fouler mood.
Bai Sui the Elderly Attendant hurried upstairs to report that they had identified Mu Ying and relayed Hong Rui's findings. Hearing it, Xiao Chenyuan's expression turned grim. Mu Ying—the cousin of his little bean sprout?
"My King, this Lady Mu's husband is none other than Assistant Minister Wang of the Ministry of Revenue," Bai Sui the Elderly Attendant said gravely. "His name also appears in the ledgers from Yunhou Hang."
A cold glint sharpened in Xiao Chenyuan's eyes. Before he could speak, a woman's shrill exclamation, accompanied by several cries of pain, sounded from below. Looking down, he saw QingWu standing atop the carriage shaft, whip in hand, lashing out mercilessly at a group of servants.
"The servants of the Assistant Minister's residence are quite bold, daring to snatch people in broad daylight! Even if your Assistant Minister Wang himself shows up today, I'll still whip you just the same!" QingWu declared.
Those she lashed were indeed the servants of the Assistant Minister's residence. Truly, luck was not on their side today.
Xiao Chenyuan ascended to the teahouse while the accompanying black-armored guards entered to avoid alarming the common folk. The carriage, though seemingly unguarded as it stood solitary by the teahouse, was in fact closely monitored from all directions.
The servants of the Minister of Revenue's residence arrived in haste, having only heard that a "madwoman" had rushed beneath someone's carriage. They hadn't bothered to inquire whose carriage they were offending.
Xiao Chenyuan was known for his strict military discipline and frugal management. Even his travel carriages were modestly unassuming. Mistaking it for a common family's vehicle, the servants noted the lack of visible guards and approached with aggressive arrogance, demanding to seize someone.
With fury bubbling in her chest, QingWu watched them stride toward the carriage as though it were their domain. The moment they attempted to barge in, she swung her whip, striking with precision. Leading the group was a sharp-featured, mean-eyed matron with a haughty air. The guards she brought were yelping under the sting of QingWu's strikes, and even the matron herself wasn't spared.
"You brazen wretch! How dare you strike me! Everyone, come and look at this insolent peasant, harboring a thief and assaulting others! Do you want me to drag you to the magistrate?" the matron screeched, her cunning on full display. She deliberately avoided mentioning Mu Ying's true identity, instead accusing her of being a household thief who'd stolen money and fled.
The onlookers, unaware of the truth, began murmuring, some even suggesting they call the authorities. However, the matron hesitated; she was acting on the Second Madam's orders to retrieve Mu Ying. If word got out that the esteemed Minister of Revenue's wife was a madwoman, it would be a public embarrassment. Worse still, Mu Ying's condition could lead to further scrutiny, dragging the Second Madam herself into suspicion.
Mistaking QingWu's silent, icy glare for fear, the matron grew emboldened. Signaling the household guards to charge again, she failed to notice the danger brewing.
With a synchronized clatter, a formation of black-armored guards poured from the teahouse, their swords drawn and immediately pressed against the necks of the intruders. The matron and her men screamed in terror, collapsing to their knees as if struck by lightning. The gathered crowd gasped and quickly dispersed in panic.
"So, the Minister of Revenue thinks itself quite imposing, daring to accuse my Queen of harboring a thief," came the cold, biting voice of Xiao Chenyuan as he strode out of the teahouse. His tall frame and piercing gaze silenced the chaos.
When the matron caught sight of him and the embroidered "Dread" insignia on the guards' armor, her face turned ashen. She almost fainted on the spot.
The Dread King and his Queen?! How could it be them?!