A stream of literary energy sank into the Zhu matriarch's brow and mouth, then gathered into an exquisitely intricate, mysterious pattern.
Gu Chi said, "My lord, it's done."
The commoners below all held their breath as they watched.
In a little place like Heyin, ordinary people hardly ever saw Literary Scholars or Martial Gall Warriors, let alone watched them use their powers up close. They craned their necks, curiosity getting the better of them. Could Word Spirits really make people tell the truth?
Shen Tang seemed to guess what the commoners were thinking. Smiling, she asked, "Wangchao, can your Word Spirit really make her speak the truth?"
Gu Chi played along, matching her tune.
"Reporting to my lord, Word Spirits are not absolute. Those with clear minds and resolute wills, or those whose cultivation far surpasses mine, can still lie even under the effects of a Word Spirit. However—" Gu Chi deliberately paused, then cast a scornful sidelong glance at the old couple below, one pale as a sheet and the other trembling with fear. "These two clearly aren't among them."
Shen Tang's interest was piqued.
"Then I'll give it a try."
Shen Tang looked at the Zhu matriarch.
Time to warm up.
Her first question was, "Old woman, how old are you?"
The Zhu matriarch tried to press her lips together, only to discover in horror that they opened and closed beyond her control. Her own voice sounded in her ears, deferential and respectful: "This old woman is forty-eight this year."
Shen Tang started stirring things up with her second question.
"Did you marry properly into Zhu Family Village?"
Hearing the question, Yu Zi instinctively looked up at the Zhu matriarch. She didn't notice that her "grandfather" had changed expression.
The Zhu matriarch said, "No."
Shen Tang was taken