High above, the astral winds howled.
Su Ling'er rode her Wooden Sword, gripping Ten-Pace Killer by the back of his collar like a helpless chick as she streaked toward the city outskirts.
Her mind was still a complete mess. The scene just now had been far too shocking.
She recalled the side hall, where that old fox Zhao Decang's knees had gone weak the moment he heard it was a group of well-connected young masters doing the killing. He'd dropped to the ground, weeping and wailing, "Miss Su! I truly cannot handle this matter! According to Daqian Law, punishments do not apply to the nobility, and etiquette does not extend to the common folk!"
"Those refugees don't even have household registrations! In the eyes of the law, they are ownerless property! For those young masters to shoot them is, at most... not a major crime. If I were to actually arrest them, it would cause a monumental uproar!"
