Murong Jing's eyes flashed with a hint of murder, and he squeezed a sentence through his clenched teeth: "Luo Qingyu, don't forget you are this Prince's deputy general!"
Luo Qingyu replied neither servilely nor overbearingly: "I am a deputy general of the Dayu Dynasty! As long as it is to weed out traitors for the country and eradicate foreign enemies, no matter who the commander is, I will shed my blood and give my all!"
Murong Jing slowly reined in the murderous intent in his eyes, laughing instead of getting angry: "Well said. One day when this Prince makes a comeback, I will still need capable generals like Deputy General Luo to help me purge the imperial court of bad elements!"
Although Murong Jing had his family property confiscated and was exiled, he still retained a portion of his strength and was bound to fight his way back to the capital sooner or later.
An uprising was no small matter, however; he needed manpower, and he needed money.
The officials exiled with him today would all be his assets in returning to Shengjing and ascending the throne in the future.
Luo Qingquand had a head for business; the silver he had hidden away, once handed over to Luo Qingchuan to manage, would soon start multiplying.
And then there was Luo Qingyu; stubborn as he was, he was a fierce warrior.
Luo Jingran was a venerated veteran official of three reigns with immense prestige, and Luo Qingshan was a role model among the younger generation.
Although Murong Jing was dissatisfied with the Luo family, now was not the time for a reckoning.
He planned to cultivate "mutual affection over time" with Luo Xueyao along the road of exile.
Since Murong Feng wanted to use Luo Xueyao—whom he had discarded like worn-out shoes—to disgust him, he didn't mind turning the tables and using Luo Xueyao to win over the Luo family.
Just as he was planning to cast a seductive glance at this good-for-nothing daughter of the Luo family and radiate some personal charm, he saw Luo Xueyao looking at him with eyes brimming with tears.
Murong Jing felt immensely pleased, practically floating on air.
Luo Jingran, oh Luo Jingran, so what if your whole family has a stubborn spine? With such a hopelessly infatuated daughter, how could he fail to bring you to heel!
Murong Jing let go of Lin Zhiyan's arm, walked step by step toward Luo Xueyao, and spoke with a hint of sour jealousy: "Eyebrows knitted in sorrow all day long, a thousand traces of tears, ten myriad traces of tears. Miss Xueyao must not grieve and sorrow; with this Prince escorting you all the way, I will certainly not let you suffer."
Luo Xueyao's tear-blurred eyes had long since obscured her vision.
An angular face, slightly darkened skin, a square and resolute chin—even though a saber scar ran straight from her right temple across to her left cheek, it did not detract from his handsome air in the least, instead adding a touch of heroic vigor.
After crossing a millennium, Luo Xueyao finally saw that pair of eyes she had yearned for day and night once more, and could not help murmuring: "Pei Xiao..."
Murong Jing's half-extended hand suddenly froze in awkwardness. A flash of anger swept through the depths of his eyes, and his resentful gaze whipped toward behind him like a knife.
Behind him, a guard covered in injuries lowered his head and said softly: "You've recognized the wrong person, Milady. I am the Prince's domestic servant, and my name is Chu Lingyue."
...
The grim-faced escort officer held the roster and called out names one by one; those whose names were called had to stand on the other side.
"What is going on? Why are there six fewer? What are you dawdling for, why aren't you out here yet? Are you asking for a flogging? Exiled convicts have to walk fifty miles a day; if you don't hurry up, we won't make it to the post station! If anything goes wrong on the road of exile, who is going to take the blame!"
A prison guard replied in a low voice: "These few beat their heads against the wall and died."
"Dead... then just cross them off!"
The escort officer was not surprised in the least.
In a ghost place like Ningguta, if one out of a hundred exiled convicts managed to walk there alive, it would be a miracle; most of them would die halfway.
Even the one who survived wouldn't make it through a single winter in Ningguta.
"All right, the headcount matches up, so let's move out!"
"Wait, Milord..." The prison guard spoke hesitantly, pointing to two disheveled women behind him and saying, "There are two more here."
The escort officer was displeased: "I said if people on this list are missing, they're missing—how come you've managed to add two more? Is a major event like exile something you can just squeeze people into on a whim?"
The prison guard cast a cautious glance in Murong Jing's direction, leaned over to the escort officer's ear, and muttered a few words.
The escort officer's expression shifted repeatedly before he finally gritted his teeth.
"For this exile to Ningguta, four died before departure. As for the rest of you, look lively and get moving!"
The bailiffs responsible for the escort seemed utterly tyrannical, constantly pushing and shoving at every turn, and reaching for their whips whenever displeased.
If someone who was beaten didn't scramble up immediately to resume marching, they would continue to suffer a succession of whip lashes. With food and medicine scarce on the road of exile, they probably wouldn't last long before dying halfway.
Luo Xueyao placed a protective barrier around each member of the Luo family, preventing the whips from striking her family.
With Murong Jing's imposing aura right there, the bailiffs didn't dare crack their whips at him either.
The Lin family weren't so fortunate; the moment they stepped out of the Ministry of Personnel gates, everyone bore injuries.
Lin Zhiyan had been sticking close behind Murong Jing since just now, which was how she narrowly managed to avoid the whips.
At the very tail end of the procession were the two disheveled women. Their hair obscured their faces, and they wore only undergarments and prisoner garb, making their identities indistinguishable.
The two of them moved like unfeeling blocks of wood, slowly following behind the procession.
Oddly enough, the bailiffs did not make a move against them at all.
It was as if there truly were just two extra pieces of wood in this procession.
...
A crowd of people guarded the entrance to the large prison, all of them family and friends who had come to see the exiles off.
Old and young, male and female, they had all come to bid farewell to those about to be sent into exile. Every face was written over with sorrow and reluctance, their eyes betraying deep anxiety and helplessness.
Seeing the convicts emerge, the quietly waiting crowd instantly surged into commotion. Acting like madmen, they rushed forward recklessly, crying out the names of their loved ones with voices wretched and despairing.
Some even tried to break through the defensive line formed by the bailiffs, lunging directly toward the convicts, but were ruthlessly blocked by bailiffs wielding long spears.
The shouts and cries of the crowd merged into one, intertwining with the stern, halting commands of the bailiffs to form a heartbreaking scene.
Luo Xueyao spotted Xiangtao and Cuiliu in the crowd at a glance. The two silly girls had actually come to see her off, with no telling whether they had set out from the outskirts of the capital before dawn or had spent the night in the capital itself.
There was also Uncle Zhong and the others, all mixed in the crowd, frantically waving and shouting to the Luo family.
Unable to push their way through, they could only hurl the bundles they had brought.
Others followed suit and threw things this way as well, while the prisoners grabbed whatever bundle they could catch, regardless of whose it was.
Although most of the bundles were batted away by the bailiffs and never reached their hands, Luo Xueyao possessed a Spatial Dimension. Utilizing the supernatural ability of her space, she precisely caught every single bundle sent by the loyal servants and handed them over to her parents, brothers, and sisters-in-law.
Luo Xueyao hadn't told her loyal servants about her Spatial Dimension, so the items they brought were all extremely practical: long cotton robes that could be worn in winter and used as quilts along the road of exile.
There were also steamed buns, steamed rolls, boiled eggs, some loose silver, and two one-hundred-liang silver notes.
Luo Xueyao was left between tears and laughter.
Had these two silly girls given back the dowry funds she had left for them?
Forget it; if she threw them back, they would only cry again.
Luo Xueyao could only use her space to quietly slip the silver notes back to them.
She then fished a ball of paper from her bosom, accurately tossed it into Uncle Zhong's arms, and shouted at the top of her lungs: "Uncle Zhong, everything is entrusted to you!"