A’Xuan paused on the veranda, pulling back the foot he’d just lifted, eyeing Murong Yun with amused curiosity.
It had to be said—Miss Lei’s expression, behavior, and aura at this moment were exactly to his taste. He liked it—liked it more the longer he looked, until his blood was boiling.
A’Xuan stared at Murong Yun without blinking beneath his mask, his heartbeat quickening.
But he still hadn’t noticed his own abnormality.
“Can’t kill at will? Don’t tell me you think that rule applies to cultivators too?”
Murong Yun casually wiped her sword across the snow, producing a crisp ringing sound. Her gaze swept coldly over the people who, moments ago, had been fired up and tried to rob her by sheer numbers.
Sorry, but this world really only has two rules: the strong are revered, and the powerful reign supreme.
Truth be told, if not for the establishment of imperial rule, these commoners would’ve suffered even worse oppression—because in this world, people are ranked from birth by innate talent.
“Or do you think that those harboring treasonous intent and aiming to seize grain can act recklessly at this moment?”
Murong Yun’s voice had originally been rather soft, but now, paired with her cold smile and the fact that she had just slain two people without blinking, no one present dared to underestimate her.
Wang Ru, who had been biting her lip and preparing to give an order, hadn’t expected this Miss Lei to be such a swift and bold woman. Especially in this moment—her appearance made Wang Ru subconsciously think of someone else.
A woman… one might even call her a legend.
Murong Yun’s cold remarks, combined with her formidable strength and methods, quickly sobered up the people who had been driven mad by hunger.
But this… still isn’t enough.
Liaozhou’s got no shortage of people. Even with some starved to death, plenty are still around. And now that today’s line has been crossed… the fuse is lit.
If someone fans the flames again, chances are the city will fall from within—long before the enemy even gets through the gates.
Especially if someone with intent is stirring things up.
Murong Yun’s gaze swept over—sure enough, the few she’d noticed earlier spouting treasonous talk in the crowd were now trying to sneak toward the back.
With a decisive sweep of her right hand, several strands of shimmering green spiritual energy surged forth like swimming dragons, seizing three people and flinging them into the snow.
“What, you stirred up trouble and now you want to leave?”
The complexions of those three were noticeably better than most—hardly thin or frail, just pretending to be weak.
Even now, having been dragged out, they still don’t forget to put on a performance.
“Please, miss, have mercy. We were tricked… we’re just hungry.”
“Yes, yes, miss—we don’t dare anymore.”
The last one didn’t even speak—just trembled, unsure whether from cold or fear, and kept kowtowing.
Such heartfelt acting—every one of them is a performer. Not giving them an Oscar would be a waste of talent.
It was just a pity these three were rather large in build. Murong Yun curled her lips into a cold smile and stepped forward, planting one foot on the shoulder of the man who kept begging for mercy.
She even ground her foot down with clear malice, looking every bit the bully. Only Murong Yun herself knew—there was flesh beneath her sole, and she hadn’t held back.
If they were truly commoners who’d gone hungry for days, how could they have any strength left? One stomp and it’d be all bone.
Not to mention, the man had two piercings on his earlobe—that’s… a custom of the Pingyun Kingdom, where men pierce only one ear.
By now, Murong Yun had mostly confirmed her suspicions. She simply pressed the man beneath her foot down into the ground.
“Afraid? Why would you be? Your general’s got over a hundred thousand men camped outside the city.”
“What, you’re even sending people here to play at inciting rebellion?”
Murong Yun lowered her head, certainty gleaming in her eyes.
“Miss Lei, what do you mean by this? They…?” Wang Ru snapped out of her memories at those words, staring at the three in disbelief.
“When did spies from the Pingyun Kingdom start sneaking in here?”
“That’s right—they’re from Pingyun. Just now, they tried to provoke us, stir up unrest in our Nanchu. Did they even stop to ask if they’re worthy?”
Murong Yun calmly raised a hand toward the commoners who’d earlier been incited to steal grain. Upon hearing this, they all lowered their heads, faces full of shame.
“What are you saying, miss? I was born and raised in Liaozhou—my family’s been here for eighteen generations!”
One of them even tried to struggle, squeezing out a few crocodile tears.
Murong Yun had no patience for their theatrics. Even if they really were from Nanchu—well, with hearts set on treason, pinning the blame on them wasn’t exactly unjustified.
Murong Yun smiled at him, flipped her palm, and sent out three bursts of spiritual energy, knocking off the differently styled hats from the three men’s heads.
Just as expected—every head showed some curl, more or less.
“In Nanchu, we don’t have unfilial citizens like you. If your ancestors knew, they’d be crying out loud.”
When it came to sharp tongues and the art of scolding with flair, Murong Yun had never been afraid—after all, back in the gaming world, she was a seasoned player who could elegantly roast her teammates into silence.
And so, with just a few words, even that spy—skilled as he was in acting—couldn’t hold it in. Propped on his hands in the snow, he couldn’t help but claw at it twice.
But as a skilled spy, how could he give up so easily?
“We can’t defeat you. In fact, not a single person here could stand against a noble and powerful cultivator like you.”
“But we were just hungry—just starving. Is looking for food a crime?”
“If this too is wrong, then we’re willing to be wrong again and again!”
As soon as those words were spoken, Murong Yun nearly applauded. This tea art—truly masterful.
Murong Yun glanced at the speaker—indeed, the most delicate-looking of the three, with the most venomous gaze.
Gotta admit, tea artistry really works. The crowd—just look at their eyes—already scheming again. The fig leaf was gone, but someone stitched up a new one in no time, and it fits like a charm.
So this time, they chose to kneel—together.
Changed professions—to begging.
“Please, madam, give us some rice. If we don’t eat soon, my son, daughter, father—they’ll all die.”
"........."
Facing Murong Yun, with his back to the ignorant masses, the spy’s lips curled into a smile.
As long as the mission succeeds, what does it matter if their identities are exposed or they lose their lives? To take a city without shedding a drop of blood—that would be an unprecedented glory in the history of Pingyun.
Murong Yun looked at the fence-sitting crowd and ground her teeth. People were selfish—when grain prices soared, they sold rice; now that they’re starving, they’ll stop at nothing to seize the general’s reserves.
Even though this grain was meant for the soldiers still defending the city walls…
How ironic… Clearly, if they’d just endured a little longer, kept drinking the porridge the general’s manor was distributing, they could’ve survived.
But since they insist on eating, it’s not impossible.
🐇♡🐇♡🐇♡🐇
Morning. Three spies kneel dramatically. A crowd gathers. Murong Yun stands, unimpressed.
Spy #1 (voice trembling): “Please, madam! Just a handful of rice! My son, daughter, father, cousin’s goat—they’re all dying!”
Spy #2 (whispers): “Add the goat. Goats get sympathy.”
Spy #3 (smiling faintly): “Don’t worry. If this works, we’ll be legends. No bloodshed, just porridge and performance.”
Crowd Member: “We’re not traitors! We’re just… dramatically hungry!”
Murong Yun : "When rice was gold, they sold it. Now they’re starving? Suddenly it’s “share the love, General!”"
Murong Yun: “This isn’t just drama, this is a Michelin‑starred tea service."
Spy #3: “Mission first. If we die, we die. But if we take the city with congee? That’s history.”
Murong Yun: “Then kneel deeper. History likes commitment.”
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