Moonless sky, high winds—the night for murder.
When Shen De hurried over, he caught a thick whiff of blood. His heart gave a jolt, fearing Duke Xun might be among those lying in pools of blood. He shoved the door open and called anxiously, "Duke Xun, are you all right?"
Xun Zhen, who had been wiping his sword, turned his head. He happened to meet the pitch-black silhouette standing outside with its back to the moonlight. He raised his hand and sheathed the sharp blade. "See? If a craftsman wishes to do good work, he must first sharpen his tools."
Sharpening the sword beforehand had indeed been necessary.
Shen De's breath caught, then she let out a long sigh of relief.
He had to trouble Uncle Chou's Fundoshi connections to clear the corpses from the room, and while they were at it, open the windows and doors to air out the stench of blood. The two "connections" twisted their features when they heard this. "You insolent whelp! How dare you order us to do such menial work? Do you look down on this old man?"
They could be assigned to assassinate political enemies without complaint.
Making them haul corpses was like using a bullock knife to kill a chicken.
No, like using Mohist cannons to swat mosquitoes.
Shen De saw that the corpses inside included both men and women. Several of the men wore black night clothes, while the women were dressed like ordinary noblewomen. One look at the scene told her what had happened: when bribery failed, they had tried to murder the envoy? No, what were they thinking? Jinli Commandery, the last place to let an envoy die on its territory, was still being squeezed and given the cold shoulder...
The Fundoshi connections did not want to dirty