At this moment, dozens of yamen runners from the Shuntian Prefecture Office had already rushed over. Every one of them was panting for breath; some were still disheveled, shocked, resentful, and helpless.
"Whose black dog beats the drum at night? I was warm in bed, full and well-rested, only to have to crawl up and fuss with this."
"Who isn't? Damn the ancestors of whoever beat that drum..." Amid the chaotic grumbling, someone said, "Shh, do you want to die? The lords are coming."
At once, the group straightened their clothes and picked up their ceremonial staffs. The officials had in fact seen and heard everything, but none spoke to rebuke them. The group filed inside like fish swimming in a stream.
This was the Shuntian Prefecture Office. Prefect Tan Ping still occupied the main seat, with chairs arranged to either side of the high hall. Su Ziji sat in the first chair, while the Chief Minister sat opposite him, though his seat was set slightly lower. Luo Pei sat facing the Minister of War.
The four sat on either side. As it was midnight, candles had been lit along both sides and atop the central desk. From time to time, a faint breeze blew in, making the candlelight sway.
For some reason, the scene reminded Su Ziji of the Hall of King Yama. He could not help but sneer inwardly, merely sitting there and quietly watching events unfold.
The Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture sat in the middle. In the briefest moment, all the yamen runners had taken their places, holding black-and-red fire and water staves as they stood in ranks. Not only that, two personal guards entered with sabers hanging at their waists and stood at the corners of the hall. The courtroom immediately became tense and murderous.
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