Shen Tang looked at the beggar with a trace of surprise.
She had assumed from the beggar's earlier words and behavior that she had never received an education. After spending so long among the common folk, she had picked up her "colorful language" by listening and watching. But judging by her composed, unruffled expression and those two sentences, Shen Tang had been wrong.
"Your rude behavior is easy enough to forgive. You're young and alone in the world, and you've been locked up for a full six days. I imagine you've learned your lesson, so we'll let the matter rest. But what did you mean when you said I avenged your family?" Shen Tang pretended not to understand.
"This commoner's family was harmed by the Zhang Clan..." The beggar paused, tears glistening in her eyes. "If not for Lord Shen, this commoner might have died without ever seeing them get what they deserved... So in this commoner's eyes, Lord Shen is the benefactor of my entire family."
Shen Tang's expression softened. "Don't cry. Take your time."
She wasn't overflowing with sympathy, nor was she good at comforting a crying little girl. But Shen Tang couldn't bring herself to harden her heart and let a pitiable child cry in front of her. She signaled to a clerk to bring a cushion so the beggar could sit down and tell her story at her own pace.
The beggar had some severe chilblains on both feet.
Her ankles were swollen, and her skin was cracked.
The room was much warmer than outside. Even the slightest movement brought an excruciating itch and pain crawling from the beggar's feet, up her legs, and throughout her body. But she had tremendous endurance; she didn't even furrow her brow. She bore the pain in her joints and