Chapter Twenty-Four: Punishing the Officials

The next day, as promised, Ye Yuer took Zhao Yuan and Zhao Ling’er to the outskirts of Bin City.

In truth, the journey was not a long one, but perhaps due to various small mishaps along the way, or simply because the two of them chatted incessantly, they ended up spending more time on the road than expected. They set out right after their meal, but by the time they reached their destination, several hours had passed and the sun was already nearing the horizon.

Upon arrival, they were greeted by a massive archway, above which hung a grand signboard bearing the words: “Outer Bin Street.” From the entrance, the street stretched on for at least a kilometer, lined on both sides with establishments for dining and entertainment. There was no shortage of opulent taverns and pleasure houses.

It was nearly evening, the liveliest time of day. Without a word, Zhao Ling’er seized Ye Yuer’s hand and charged eagerly into the street, unable to contain her excitement.

Ye Yuer glanced about, muttering under her breath as she searched for a tavern she had frequented before. This particular tavern was rather sizable, its signboard clean and tidy, giving a good impression—unlike some of the gaudier places, which, despite their outward neatness, exuded a faint air of debauchery.

The three quickly settled in for a meal. Zhao Ling’er, thoroughly satisfied, patted her stomach and, after a brief rest, paid the bill at the counter before they left.

Now came the part Zhao Ling’er enjoyed most. The entire street was awash in a lavish atmosphere—not only from the rows of exquisite trinkets displayed on the shelves but also from the tempting array of rare and delicious pastries. Ye Yuer, for her part, was less easily swayed by such indulgences; she simply sampled her favorite pastries, as she had on previous visits.

Zhao Ling’er and Ye Yuer walked at the front, laughing and chatting, free from all worries. Behind them, Zhao Yuan strolled leisurely, equally at ease.

As they walked, Ye Yuer suddenly halted, her gaze fixed on the scene ahead—a young woman stood before a man, her expression shy and uneasy. Though she wore no makeup, she possessed a natural charm and her eyes were clear. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment, as if she had just been subjected to crude and indecent words.

The man before her was disheveled, his features twisted in a way that seemed to mirror his corrupted soul, his eyes filled with malice. Zhao Ling’er needed no further explanation; it was obvious this lascivious fellow had blocked the young woman’s way and spoken outrageous things. At once, she resolved to intervene.

With righteous fury, Zhao Ling’er strode forward, cutting between the two. As she approached, she caught snatches of their conversation.

“I can give you wealth and glory. I can offer you pleasures no ordinary woman can ever dream of. As long as you agree to be my little concubine, I’ll grant you anything you wish.” The man’s wicked laughter was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl.

The young woman’s entire being radiated refusal, but it was of no use. The wealthy official began to grope her, his actions revolting.

Perhaps angered at having his sordid plans interrupted, the official turned to scold the intruder—only to be stunned by the sight of Zhao Ling’er’s face. Their eyes met, and Zhao Ling’er could see the wicked intentions in his gaze.

The official, entranced by Zhao Ling’er’s beauty—enhanced now by the righteous anger in her eyes—abandoned the first woman and reached out to seize Zhao Ling’er, his lips moistening as he stared at her longingly.

Disgusted by his vile intentions, Zhao Ling’er wrenched her hand free, determined to rid herself of this odious man. The official, unwilling to let such a beauty slip away, tried again to take advantage of her.

From behind, Zhao Yuan, having watched long enough, realized things were getting out of hand. Angered, he strode forward and struck the man’s hand with the hilt of his knife, barking, “Take your filthy paws off her!”

The official yelped as his hand was struck, the back of it already turning purple. He looked up in fury, only to find Zhao Yuan’s blade pointed squarely at him—a sight that made him blanch. Yet, unwilling to lose face, he staggered back a few steps, keeping his distance, and spat, “Who do you think you are? Do you know who I am? How dare you interfere with Young Master’s business? You’ve got some nerve!”

Zhao Yuan snorted coldly and nudged the knife at his feet, signaling the official to pick it up and fight. Provoked by the taunt, the official’s anger flared—he gritted his teeth, stepped forward, snatched up the blade, and leveled it at Zhao Yuan.

But before Zhao Yuan could brace himself, the official lunged forward, swinging the knife downward in a reckless attack. Unfazed, Zhao Yuan deftly rolled aside, dodging with ease. The official’s blow missed, and he stumbled, barely managing to regain his balance.

In a flash, Zhao Yuan moved behind his opponent, steadied his breath, closed his eyes for focus, then flicked his wrist—the blade darting out like a needle, pricking again and again at the official’s back. Each strike was shallow, just enough to pierce the fabric and graze the skin, drawing blood but not causing real harm.

Had Zhao Yuan not held back, the wounds would have crippled the arrogant scoundrel, leaving him writhing on the ground like a dying dog.

The official felt a chill as the blade cut into his skin. Though the wounds were shallow, the pain was sharp and blood began to seep through his clothes, staining his back.

Zhao Yuan, contemplating further punishment, saw the man surrender, collapsing to the ground in misery and wailing, “Stop, stop! I yield!”

With a cold laugh, Zhao Yuan sheathed his knife and mocked, “If this is the extent of your ability, I’d suggest you refrain from harassing women, lest you bring disaster upon yourself.”

Still seething, the official ground his teeth, clenched his fist, and pounded it into the ground in humiliation.

This day, Zhao Yuan had thoroughly put the arrogant official to shame.