“Speak with me alone in the back hall?
You’ve got guts!
Haha, I admire you…
After you!”
The bandit leader seemed to have read a few books.
Though his manner was still crude, he possessed a scholarly air that set him apart from the rough bandits beside him, making him appear somewhat refined.
As Jiang Pengji sized up the bandit leader, he was sizing her up in return.
He glanced at Jiang Pengji, then at the noble ladies who couldn’t help but hide behind her back, and a strange feeling washed over him…
Wait, including this spirited woman, isn’t this whole room full of ladies?
Why is she acting like such a man?
“Lanting…” Wei Jingxian’s heart pounded as she saw Jiang Pengji actually about to speak with the bandit leader alone.
Though they had fallen into a bandit’s den and their reputations were already ruined, they had not yet suffered any real harm.
If they could be rescued, their names would be tarnished at worst.
But if Jiang Pengji were to be alone in a room with a bandit, that would be an irredeemable disgrace.
“Don’t worry.
I’ll be back.”
Jiang Pengji winked her right eye, her playful expression stirring the hearts of those who saw it.
The back hall was even more spartan than the front.
Jiang Pengji took her seat at the main table with an air of casual confidence, crossing her long legs and leaning back.
To call her posture uninhibited would be an understatement.
In the front hall, without Jiang Pengji’s presence to anchor them, the young women were counting the minutes, their anxiety mounting with every passing second.
“I can’t leave a bunch of young girls alone with a pack of wolves,” Jiang Pengji said.
“Let’s get straight to the point.
I need to get back quickly.” Despite her words, her relaxed posture betrayed no such urgency.
“I don’t trust those low-lifes outside.”
The Bandit Leader stood by, his gaze burning with desperation.
Monniang was a thorn in his heart, one he could never bring himself to pull out.
Day and night, he had agonized over who had murdered her.
Now that Jiang Pengji had given him a glimmer of hope, he couldn’t bear to wait another moment.
“The killer is actually right by your side,” Jiang Pengji said, “you just haven’t realized it yet.”
A teapot sat beside her, but the rim of the teacup was stained with a dark, grimy residue.
She glanced at it and her thirst vanished instantly.
The Bandit Leader wasn’t completely brainless.
Hearing Jiang Pengji’s words, suspicion began to gnaw at him.
He wondered if she was trying to borrow a knife to kill—manipulating him into eliminating a rival.
The Bandit Leader was indeed a man of some skill, but he had met his match in Jiang Pengji.
He was destined to be played.
She was the most venom-tongued woman in the entire Seventh Legion—a demon who could strip a man’s most buried secrets bare with a single sentence.
The officers under her command dreaded meeting her gaze; it always left them with the unsettling sensation of being naked and exposed.
“I know you’re suspicious,” Jiang Pengji said, her voice smooth.
“You think I’m trying to trick you into killing each other…
Tsk.
I’m just telling you what I know.
Believe it or not.”
Hmph, Jiang Pengji sneered inwardly.
This body is far too weak.
She could have broken out by force on her own, but the noble ladies would likely have been slaughtered by the enraged bandits in the chaos.
For someone like her—a perfectionist with a touch of OCD—that was simply unacceptable.
“The killer is your fellow townsman,” she continued.
“The one with the limp and the slightly hunched back.
He took advantage of your absence while you were out hunting, rounding up a few thugs to force themselves on Monniang.
He threatened her to keep silent.
Monniang loved you deeply, and consumed by guilt, she eventually took her own life.”
Hearing this, the Bandit Leader’s last shred of doubt vanished.
He believed her completely.
Never mind Jiang Pengji—even many of the bandit brothers didn’t know he and the lame man were from the same village.
When they met, they’d merely nod at most, occasionally looking out for each other, but they always kept their distance.
And they’d never told anyone about their relationship.
How could he not believe her when Jiang Pengji had exposed this secret in one breath?
“If you don’t believe me, you can tear open his clothes and see if there are wounds on his back from when Monniang was forced.
Monniang, oh, her character was fiercely loyal and pure.
She swore to the death she would never submit, fighting those men with all her fierce spirit, but she was just a weak woman…”
The moment her words fell, the Bandit Leader strode out, his great saber in hand, his movements swift and resolute.
Not long after, the terrified screams of the noble ladies echoed through the air.
Sensing the bloody scent wafting through the air, her full lips curved slightly as she called out clearly, “Next!”
The System: “…”
Even though it was a System devoid of all emotion, it felt like its entire body was about to explode with fury just by dealing with this Host!
The Second-in-Command entered, his face pale, his gaze filled with wariness as he looked at Jiang Pengji.
Just now, the Great Leader had charged out of the back hall, seized some inconspicuous little lackey, and without a word, tore off the man’s clothes.
His expression was manic, his eyes bloodshot—a sight that chilled the blood of all who saw it.
The lackey had suddenly fallen to his knees, begging for mercy, but he must have said something to infuriate the Great Leader, for the man drew his blade and severed the man’s head in a single stroke.
“Your son…
he was so young when he went missing…” Jiang Pengji remained completely unfazed by the terrified screams of the noble ladies.
The metallic tang of blood filling the air was all the confirmation she needed.
The first stage of her plan was complete.
“Do you want to see him?”
“Of course I do!”
At the mention of his son, the Second-in-Command’s desperation immediately overrode everything else, his eyes lighting up.
He had always been a good-for-nothing, never lifting a finger for any honest work.
Relying solely on his brute strength, he’d spent his days stirring up trouble.
When he had money, he squandered it on fleeting pleasures, sleeping in brothels and cavorting with the courtesans.
When his pockets were empty, he’d return home to torment his parents.
Later, as he grew older, he married a woman from their village—a “jinx” who had lost both her parents to early death.
After two years of marriage, they finally had a big, healthy boy.
But fatherhood did nothing to tame him.
He continued his reckless ways, day in and day out.
One day, he finally kicked the wrong person—a much tougher opponent who brought a gang to beat him senseless.
They’d even kicked him squarely in the groin, the pain so excruciating it knocked him unconscious.
After he recovered, his manhood still worked, but the doctor told him he’d never be able to father a child again.
The thought of his infertility immediately brought his only son to mind.
He kept a constant, watchful eye on the boy, terrified that anything might happen to him.
If I lose this child, he thought, my entire lineage will end with me.
After he died, who would offer incense at his altar?
Who would be the filial son to smash the burial basin?
What was the point of living if he had no legacy to leave behind?
But as the saying goes, what you fear most is what eventually happens.
When his son was four, he vanished without a trace.
They searched everywhere but found nothing.
His wife cried until her eyes were swollen shut.
“Your son…
tsk, tsk…
I’m afraid the news isn’t good,” Jiang Pengji said, shaking her head with a sigh.
“Natural disasters and man-made calamities—it’s always the common folk who suffer most.
That year of the Great Drought, the crops failed completely…
You and your wife did your best, keeping the boy plump and healthy.
You meant well, but it only made him a target.”
Before she could finish, a sudden realization struck the Second-in-Command.
His eyes turned bloodshot, and he collapsed to the ground as if all the strength had been drained from his body.
During the Great Drought, when everyone was starving and forced to eat wild grass and tree bark, some people resorted to snatching other families’ children to eat.
He was young and strong, barely managing to keep his family alive.
Sometimes, driven by desperate cravings, he had even secretly snatched someone else’s child…
At this thought, the Second-in-Command collapsed to his knees in a mixture of helplessness and madness.
He wept and kowtowed, his face drenched in tears as he pleaded, “Living Deity, please tell me!
Who is the heartless bastard who did this to…
to my son?
He is my lifeblood!”
Jiang Pengji lowered her gaze, her voice calm.
“Since you’ve begged me so earnestly, I cannot withhold the truth.
The person who ate your son is from your own village—a rogue and a scoundrel just like you.
I know nothing more.
You can investigate the rest yourself.”
The System nudged Jiang Pengji in secret.
Weren’t you…
planning to make them tear each other apart?
Why not say the culprit is some random thug?
By saying he’s from the same village, what if they actually go back and start searching?
“Stupid!” Jiang Pengji retorted inwardly, letting out a scoff.
I’m no god.
How would I know which one is from his village?
The System: “…¥%…¥#¥#@@@…”
If you don’t know, why the hell are you spouting nonsense here?