Chapter 36 Punishing the Culprit

Chapter 36: Punishing the Criminals

Snowflakes fell heavily, filling the uneven ground with fine snow until it was level. Outside the tent, two ragged men in black knelt.

He Zhao and Cong Shuang, upon hearing that Xiao Nianzhang had brought in the suspicious men in black lurking near the Qin residence, also came to observe.

"It's just our bad luck that you caught us. Save your effort—we won't say a thing!"

One of the men, tall and lean, spat out a mouthful of blood. His face was stubbly, and his hands bore thick calluses from years of wielding a blade.

Xie Nai glanced at the two men. "Was it you who set fire to the Qin residence? Why did you want to kill Qin Jiao?"

Xie Nai asked calmly, but the tall man replied arrogantly: "Yes! We set the fire. Too bad we didn't use enough knockout drugs—he's lucky to be alive!"

The man spat again. "As for why we wanted him dead, someone paid a hefty price for his life. We're just trying to make a living on the edge of a knife—why turn down good money?"

Xie Nai's eyes darkened. "How much was Qin Jiao's life worth?"

"We brothers have our principles. Even if you're a prince, or even the emperor himself, we won't tell!"

Another, slightly plumper man in black smirked mockingly. A twisted, worm-like blue vein ran from his temple down his neck, disgustingly gruesome.

"You're just being stubborn as nails, talking tough," He Zhao muttered, spitting in disgust.

Cong Shuang frowned as she looked at the two brutal men. Earlier, Xie Nai had asked if she recognized them. After careful thought, she shook her head.

She had no memory of them from the capital or Nanzhou. Xiao Nianzhang had mentioned earlier that these men were notorious fugitives, wanted for heinous crimes—likely the kind to take any job for money.

The men refused to cooperate, and Xie Nai's face hardened. "I'll ask once more: who ordered you to assassinate Qin Jiao? And was it you who hunted him outside Nanzhou City half a month ago?"

At his words, Cong Shuang's face suddenly turned pale.

She remembered now. Qin Jiao had gone missing for two full days that time, and the wound on his wrist still hadn't healed.

"How can you call it a pursuit? It was a cat-and-mouse game. That kid ran fast—otherwise we'd have caught him and had some fun before killing him."

No sooner had the tall man finished than Cong Shuang, eyes bloodshot and frenzied, rushed forward, grabbing an inkstone and brush and hurling them at him.

The armored soldiers held the man down, keeping him still. Cong Shuang kicked him hard, but her strength was limited—it felt like a feather's touch to him. Thick ink splashed across his face, but he burst out laughing, as if taunting her.

His laughter grew louder, and Xie Nai's face darkened. Seeing this, Xiao Nianzhang and Xiao Yue held their breath, not daring to make a sound.

The man continued his sinister laughter: "We were careless that day. We should have grabbed him right then and there and ripped him apart..."

"Ah—!!"

Cong Shuang let out a piercing shriek, her eyes bloodshot, her whole body trembling with rage. She wished she could rip the two men to shreds.

"Too bad, hahaha..." The man was still laughing arrogantly when—CRASH!

A loud crash echoed.

It was He Zhao.

He slammed a celadon porcelain vase onto the man's head.

The tall man, already balding, now had shards of porcelain sticking out of his sparse yellow hair. The shards embedded themselves into his scalp and flesh, showing just how hard He Zhao had struck.

Vivid red blood mingled with black ink. The man's ragged breaths blew the mixture apart, turning it into a disgusting, sticky mess.

"Take this, Sister Congshuang. Smash it for fun." He Zhao shoved another celadon vase into Cong Shuang's hand.

Crash!

Without hesitation, Cong Shuang raised the vase and brought it down. Instantly, blood and porcelain shards flew from the man's head, splattering everywhere!

Gritting her teeth, Cong Shuang glared at the man on the ground with hatred. Without He Zhao needing to say more, she picked up a small bronze charcoal stove.

With a loud bang, the man with the worm-like veins on his face didn't escape her fury either. The stove still held burning embers, and hot coals spilled onto his face, emitting a scorched smell.

"Ah, it hurts! You bitch!"

The veins on the man's face writhed like living worms. He screamed in agony, twisting his body, barely managing to shake the coals off his face and body.

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