The waiter, gasping for breath, clutched the handrail, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing. Good heavens, these people were audacious.
Qingyao, waiting until Young Master Su grew tired and his voice hoarse, his appearance nearing unconsciousness, grew impatient. She delivered a kick, sending Su Mingjie tumbling from the third-floor staircase to the landing on the second floor, directly onto his pack of sycophants, eliciting a chorus of wails.
Young Master Su finally succumbed to the ordeal, his eyes rolling back, his mouth contorted as he fainted.
Qingyao cast a casual glance at the waiter, who was clinging to the staircase railing, panting heavily.
"Alright, lead the way."
The waiter could barely stand. His body went limp, his legs trembling uncontrollably. After much stammering, he finally managed to speak.
"I can't."
As soon as he spoke, King Nan'an, Murong Liuzun, gestured, and two plainclothed guards immediately appeared. They flanked him and steered him directly towards the fourth floor.
Qingyao, unhurried, swept her gaze over Murong Liuzun. Suddenly, her eyes lit up, her face blooming with a warm smile. As he approached her, she reached out and casually patted his shoulder, as if they were old friends.
"Liuzun, I've been watching. You have nothing to do and are too bored. From now on, you'll likely be quite busy. I don't want to be disturbed, so handle things properly."
Without waiting for a reply or looking at Murong Liuzun's face, she continued. If she had looked, she would have seen that in the eyes of the usually indifferent man, a pool of spring breeze seemed to gather, warming her immensely.
The group ascended to the fourth floor. The entire building fell silent. Although two rooms were occupied by guests, the waiter had managed to make arrangements.
This fourth floor was their domain. Not a single noisy person was present; it was remarkably quiet. Moreover, being quite a distance from the first-floor lobby, the boisterous sounds did not carry up, leaving the entire floor in serene silence.
"Miss, those people are truly detestable."
Meixin deftly prepared a warm towel for her mistress to wipe her face. Standing silently beside her, she recalled the scoundrels from earlier and spoke with indignation.
Mochou, however, expressed some concern: "Miss, a strong dragon cannot suppress a local snake. I fear those people are not to be trifled with. Now that you've injured them, I believe someone will be looking for us soon?"
"So what? Don't forget we have a Prince accompanying us now, along with over a dozen skilled guards. Are we afraid of those people? Most importantly, King Nan'an is being underutilized with us. We need to find something for him to do."
The thought of Murong Liuzun following them made Qingyao somewhat annoyed, as she couldn't shake him off. If they continued to trail her, where could she go?
He no longer mentioned her returning home, nor did he bring up topics that bothered her. He complied with her every whim, providing the best of everything, whether it was food, necessities, or clothing. He didn't object even when she suggested going up the mountain.
She committed murder, and he handled the aftermath. In short, he was so accommodating it made her feel guilty and uneasy. However, she had no intention of returning because of it.
Furthermore, she wouldn't let him follow her indefinitely, for she hadn't forgotten that King Nan'an was the Emperor's own brother, and he was a man of unwavering integrity who would never act against the Emperor's wishes.
How could she allow such a person to follow her continuously? If this continued, news might reach the capital.
"Mochou, this Fufeng City is quite lively. Perhaps we can leave tonight."
Qingyao's gaze became inscrutable. She could use the crowd to her advantage and shake off King Nan'an and his entourage.
Upon hearing that they could ditch King Nan'an and his men, Mochou and Meixin immediately became interested. They clustered around her: "How shall we do it?"
"Because the New Year is approaching, Fufeng City must be very bustling. And we've just provoked those local ruffians. I expect people will come looking for us soon. Why don't we use the ensuing chaos to slip away from King Nan'an? Once we leave this Deqing Tower, he won't be able to follow us."
"Good."
Qingyao extended her hand, dispelling the oppressive atmosphere of the past few days. Mochou and Meixin eagerly reached out, and the three of them clapped hands, immensely pleased.
As Qingyao had predicted, the group of young masters who had been beaten were carried back by their retainers. The leader of their return was the Prefect of Fufeng City, Su. With his beloved son crippled, how could he not be enraged?
He immediately dispatched troops from the yamen, along with the retainers of the wealthy gentry families of Fufeng City. A large contingent arrived, surrounding Deqing Tower layer upon layer.
Murong Liuzun, hearing the commotion outside the building, and fearing the noisy disturbance would affect those inside, immediately led his guards downstairs. His demeanor was stern and cold, his expression grim and displeased.
The first-floor lobby was deserted. As soon as news spread that the Prefect's son had been beaten, the patrons who had been dining, drinking, and watching performances had fled in disarray. Who would dare to remain to watch the spectacle? It would be akin to not wanting to live.
The shopkeeper and waiter, pale with fright, along with the rest of the staff, stood outside the door, offering apologies and bowing to the official leading the contingent, even slapping themselves.
The middle-aged man in the lead was indeed the Prefect of Fufeng City. Upon seeing a man in a white jade python robe emerge from the building, radiating an aura of opulence, tall and well-built, breathtakingly handsome, but with an expression of cold indifference and an air of chilling detachment, his beady eyes gleamed with calculating appraisal. He looked left, then right, then up and down, finally concluding that the man was likely merely from a wealthy family, as he had never seen him before.
"Bold commoner, to dare strike my son."
Prefect Su roared, and the soldiers behind him echoed his cry, their long staffs striking the ground with a rhythmic thud. Prefect Su raised his hand, the drumming ceased, and a profound silence enveloped the area. The Prefect's face was dark and menacing, his gaze fierce and chilling as he stared at King Nan'an.
"Surrender quickly and await your fate. It is best not to force my hand, lest you die a more ignominious death. All of you will be beaten to death."
As his words fell, a voice as cool as water drifted from within the building.
"I'd quite like to know how ignominious a death it will be. Why are father and son so alike? Always acting like lords or issuing threats?"
As the clear, icy voice concluded, a young man with a face like jade and lips like cinnabar emerged. His eyes were like stars, shining with a blue, crystalline light, like a galaxy. A cold smile played on his lips. Though his appearance was as gentle and refined as fine jade, he exuded an oppressive, bloodthirsty aura. A casual sweep of his gaze made everyone's hearts tremble, and they gasped for breath.
As Qingyao appeared, a lightly wounded young man standing beside Prefect Su, already fearful, recoiled. He pointed at Qingyao and said to Prefect Su.
"He's the one who beat Mingjie. This brat is a bit strange, very powerful."
He then couldn't help but shiver and quickly ducked behind the soldiers.
Qingyao cast a mocking, cold glance at him, a coward. Was he even a man? To be this terrified and still dare to show his face. Her gaze then shifted to Prefect Su, filled with a predatory intensity.