Chapter 109: Intercepting the Bridal Sedan Chair

In the modern era, Yun Zui was a mercenary, well-versed in the cold business of taking contracts to kill. Now, transported to this ancient land, she realized that starting her own assassin organization—like the Lingyou Hall—would be a monumental task, perhaps already too late to gain a foothold.

Joining the Lingyou Hall itself was out of the question; she was currently the target of their relentless pursuit. She kept a clear ledger of such grievances and would never consider aligning with them.

Recruiting talented individuals was no simple feat, either. She lacked power, status, background, and any formidable backing. To convince others to follow her, she needed a compelling reason. First and foremost, she had to ensure they were fed, but how much wealth did Yun Zui actually possess? A little over 2.6 million, and in the world of organizations, such funds could evaporate in the blink of an eye. Her subordinates had to be easily satisfied and inexpensive to maintain.

In the modern world, where everyone was generally fed and clothed, it was difficult to find someone willing to risk their life for a cause. But here in the ancient world, there were countless people suffering from hunger. For them, a full stomach, warm clothes, and a roof that didn’t leak were luxuries enough. With this in mind, Yun Zui narrowed her focus to the impoverished.

Seated by a window in a teahouse, Yun Zui kept her eyes fixed on the scene below. In a small alleyway, two government soldiers were forcibly seizing an ox from a farming family. The farmer pleaded desperately, promising to pay the tax arrears if they could just be granted a few days' grace. He explained that without the beast to till the fields, they would never be able to pay. The soldiers, however, responded with a cruel whip-crack, silencing the man instantly. Ultimately, he could only watch in tearful despair as his ox was led away.

Yun Zui frowned. She found these commoners far too timid and submissive. How could she possibly make use of such people?

She shook her head. Her tea was finished, so she called for a waiter to bring some pastries, then continued to observe the street from the shadows.

The thoroughfare was bustling with activity. From the teahouse, she could hear the distant sounds of firecrackers, trumpets, and gongs approaching. Who was getting married today? Yun Zui glanced down toward the end of the street. She could see the swaying of a bridal sedan chair, a sea of vibrant red, the bearers dressed in ceremonial attire, and a musical troupe. The groom, his face glowing with joy, sat atop a tall horse. This was her first time witnessing an ancient wedding in person, and Yun Zui found herself genuinely intrigued by the novelty of it.

Just as the procession was about to pass through the main street, five beggars suddenly darted out from nowhere. They were dressed in rags, their hair matted like birds' nests, and their bodies coated in grime. As they appeared, passersby instinctively covered their noses, repulsed by the stench.

The beggars blocked the path, prompting the groom to shout, "Move aside!"

But the beggars seemed determined. Instead of moving, one of them said, "Today is the groom's joyous wedding day. We’d like to share in the good fortune. Could you spare some change so we can treat ourselves to a good meal and a drink?"

The beggar was eloquent, yet clearly greedy. The groom’s expression darkened, and he shouted to his men, "Drive them off! Don't let them delay the auspicious hour!"

Upon hearing this, the beggar’s fawning smile vanished, replaced by a threatening tone: "There are one hundred and seventy-three beggars on this street. If we take turns blocking the road, do you think you'll still make it in time for the wedding?"

The groom fell silent. The beggar’s implication was clear: pay them off now, or face a gauntlet of beggars blocking the way and ruining the auspicious hour. It was better not to lose a grand wedding over the cost of a few meals.