Chapter 21 : Arrows in the Crowd (2/2)

She vividly recalled the events of that day. 

“It was the Jinyiwei (Embroidered Uniform Guard) who found him.”

Jin Anzai faltered slightly, seemingly lost in thought. 

His feather duster had stopped moving and kept brushing the same spot. 

“Is that so?”

She huffed. 

“Why would I lie? Ask anyone on the street, and they’ll tell you—it’s been the talk of the town. You just got back from Suzhou, so you wouldn’t know.”

He fell silent again, as indifferent as ever, maintaining his aloof demeanor.

Lin Ting continued, “Though Xie Manor was accused of forming private factions, some say they used to be quite reputable. Don’t you think there’s more to this—”

Before she could finish, Jin Anzai, having finished dusting, moved outside to air out some books. 

“Court affairs have nothing to do with me.”

Lin Ting made a face at him. 

Who was the one who asked if anything big happened in the capital? 

And now he says it’s none of his business?

“Fine, fine, court affairs have nothing to do with you. Now hurry up and pack up—we’re going out. I want to check out new fabric suppliers in West Street.”

West Street was lively, but also truly chaotic.

With Jin Anzai around, things felt much safer. 

Just having him stand there gave Lin Ting more confidence when bargaining.

This wasn’t the first time Jin Anzai had accompanied her to West Street. 

He was familiar with the area and didn’t say much—he simply went inside, tidied himself up, changed into a different outfit, and put on a relatively normal-looking mask.

West Street was full of people dressed in all sorts of eccentric ways, so wearing a mask wasn’t particularly conspicuous.

And so, Lin Ting took Jin Anzai with her and went out. 

Along the way, she kept buying things non-stop. 

She had skipped breakfast in her rush to the bookstore to wait for the client, and now she was so hungry that she could devour an entire bun in one bite.

Jin Anzai cast a look of disdain at the crumbs at the corner of her mouth. 

“Stay away from me.”

She wiped her mouth. 

“Oh, you have the nerve to be disgusted? Back when I rescued you from the mass grave, you were covered in bugs, reeking to high heaven, and I didn’t even complain.”

“Oh? You didn’t complain?” 

He crossed his arms over his sword, casting a sidelong glance at her. 

“Then why do I remember you vomiting several times? Not to mention how you kicked me a few times, claiming you were ‘kicking the bugs to death’?”

Lin Ting cried out in protest.

“I really was just trying to kill the bugs!” Catching bugs with her hands was too much for her to handle.

Jin Anzai simply responded, “Hmph.”

She “hmph”ed back. 

“Believe it or not, I’m telling the truth.”

Lin Ting hadn’t changed out of her men’s attire, and the two of them walked side by side down the busy street. 

From a distance, they looked like a pair of brothers—one tall, one short. 

The shorter one was clearly the chatterbox, while the taller one was reserved and quiet.

This scene was entirely visible to a young man standing at the window of a building in the southeastern part of West Street.

Duan Ling, standing tall and poised, first glanced at the young man, then his gaze fell on Lin Ting’s fair face.

Even in such a crowded street, he spotted her at first glance.

Lin Ting, dressed as a man.

Duan Ling slowly lowered his gaze. 

He lifted his hand, the fingers that held his bow gently pulling back the string, aiming it toward them.

Behind him stood a Jinyiwei (Embroidered Uniform Guard) and the manager of the restaurant. 

The manager stood stiffly, drenched in cold sweat, wiping his face only for more sweat to pour down immediately after.

It was an unfortunate disaster for him—Jinyiwei had calculated that the arrow shot during the courtesan parade had come from this very private room. 

The manager had known nothing about it, yet now that these people had come looking, he feared being implicated.

He wanted to explain, but the young lord before him remained silent, and he dared not speak without permission.

After some hesitation, the manager finally summoned the courage to explain, “M-My lord, on the day of the incident, this private room wasn’t booked. I have no idea why those arrows were fired from here.”

“Zheng—” 

A crisp sound rang out as Duan Ling leisurely plucked the bowstring, releasing an empty shot.

The manager nearly jumped in fright, almost dropping to his knees.

He trembled like a leaf. 

“M-My lord, I truly had no knowledge of it! I already handed over the guest list for that day—I dared not hide anything. Please, my lord, see the truth.”

Duan Ling chuckled lightly, his gaze sweeping over the manager. 

“Why are you so nervous? I never said this matter had anything to do with you.”

He reached out his hand, and a Jinyiwei behind him immediately handed over an arrow. 

Duan Ling turned back to the window, nocking the arrow with a smooth and practiced motion.

The manager, realizing that he intended to personally test whether an arrow could indeed be shot from this location, dared not say another word.

The street below was bustling with people—was he really going to fire into a crowd without worrying about hitting someone? 

The Jinyiwei were too reckless!

The manager’s thoughts were a whirlwind of fear as he watched.

The young man in the crimson Jinyiwei uniform had an air of refined elegance. 

His face was as handsome as carved jade, his demeanor gentle and polite, and his lips carried the hint of a smile. 

Yet his archery was frighteningly precise.

A sudden, inexplicable chill ran down the manager’s spine.

Duan Ling loosened his fingers ever so slightly, and the iron arrow shot out with a sharp whoosh, piercing straight toward the long street below.

The manager instinctively stood on tiptoe to see where it landed.

The iron arrow embedded itself precisely at the foot of a young man, missing a vital spot by mere millimeters. 

Startled, the young man jumped back, dropping the luobo gao (turnip cake) he had been holding. 

He still had half a bite in his mouth.

Lin Ting instinctively grabbed Jin Anzai’s arm and pulled him a few steps back. 

She didn’t even bother picking up the turnip cake from the ground as she lifted her head to see where the arrow had come from.

And soon, her gaze locked onto Duan Ling—the man standing at the window, still holding his bow.

Duan Ling seemed absentminded as he leaned against the window frame, his eyes downcast, gazing at the street below with an indifferent expression.