When the sedan chair curtain was lifted, Li Enxian was visibly alarmed and instinctively shrank back.
But once he saw that Sun Shaozong was standing outside, delight immediately appeared on his face. He leaned forward, about to rise and bow.
Before he could speak, however, Jia Yucun lowered the curtain again. He then invited Sun Shaozong aside and asked in a low, grave voice, "Brother, did you get a clear look just now?"
Sun Shaozong nodded, then asked curiously, "How did he end up in Brother Yucun's sedan chair?"
"Ah..."
Jia Yucun let out a long breath and said with a bitter smile, "Wasn't it all because of those troublesome commoners? Have you heard recently that some disaster victims froze to death near the Inner City Congee Shed?"
After he explained the whole sequence of events, it turned out that yesterday, when Shuntian Prefecture's bailiffs had been ordered to drive away the disaster victims, Li Enxian had somehow slipped in among them and been escorted to the Refugee Camp outside the city.
Early this morning, when the Refugee Camp was distributing congee, everyone else had rushed to line up. Yet Li Enxian stood beside the queue, holding up several glittering gold ornaments and shouting that he was a Joseon envoy with a matter of utmost importance, and that he had to see the person in charge of the Refugee Camp at once.
Had it merely been empty words, naturally no one would have believed him. But the few trinkets he produced were all quite valuable.
The Refugee Camp's runners did not dare make the decision themselves, so they could only report it to the camp's steward.
The steward dared even less to act on his own—if not so many people had seen it, perhaps greed might truly have gotten the