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墨書 Inktalez
Yun Qingyu's four attendants knelt on the ground in a row, and it had already been more than half a day.
Each of them furrowed their brows tightly, their foreheads glistening with beads of sweat. In their desperation to escape this torturous kneeling, they racked their brains, their eyes darting around as various thoughts raced through their minds.
Finally, they pushed Shen Zhongjing forward, as if tossing a hot potato, hoping he would bear the brunt of this burden. Shen Zhongjing's face flushed with anger, the veins on his neck slightly bulging as he exclaimed, "You all are so vain, dressing up like peacocks, and now you’re pushing the responsibility onto me! It's simply ridiculous!"
As he spoke, he abruptly turned his head, his eyes wide open and glaring at the other three with a fiery gaze that seemed to burn with rage.
Seeing that these individuals were still evading responsibility and refusing to speak the truth, Yun Qingyu let out a cold huff and began to walk away.
Her steps were firm and swift, showing no signs of hesitation.
Hong Yu, seeing this, became anxious. His eyes widened in alarm as he shouted loudly, "Your Highness, wait!"
His voice was sharp with urgency, even slightly cracking as it echoed in the air.
In order to rise sooner, he decided it was best to come clean. A sense of unease fluttered in his heart like a restless deer.
"Your Highness, Shen Zhongjing is the owner of the silk shop; all our clothes come from him, and he didn’t charge us anything," Hong Yu hurriedly explained, his eyes glimmering with a hint of hope. His expression resembled that of a prisoner yearning for clemency, wishing that this explanation would satisfy Yun Qingyu.
As he spoke, he leaned slightly forward, unconsciously gripping the hem of his garment tightly. Yun Qingyu paused momentarily in her steps as if an invisible thread had caught her.
She slowly turned her head, her gaze icy as she looked at the four of them. Her eyes were like the cold winds of winter, observing a group of clowns performing a poor act. The corners of her mouth curled up slightly in a mocking smile as she quietly awaited their continued fabrications.
Shen Zhongjing quickly spoke up to explain, "Your Highness, my mother passed away early, leaving behind a silk shop."
As he spoke, he lowered his head, a hint of sadness flashing in his eyes. "The shop has various fabrics, but the quantities of some particularly expensive materials are quite limited."
He continued speaking while cautiously observing Yun Qingyu's expression. Seeing that she did not interrupt, he swallowed hard and added, "Your Highness holds a noble status. Although we are merely your Attendants, we cannot afford to dress too poorly for fear of tarnishing your reputation, which is why we are dressed this way."
His words were earnest, his voice trembling slightly as if this were the absolute truth. He nodded occasionally to reinforce the credibility of his statements. The other three Attendants also nodded in unison, their movements so synchronized it seemed rehearsed.
Their eyes were wide open, filled with sincerity, as if they were proving that every word they said was true—more true than anything else. There was a hint of pleading in their gazes, trying to convince Yun Qingyu of their honesty.
However, Yun Qingyu did not believe them at all; she saw through their lies at a glance and a barely noticeable cold smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Nonetheless, they had at least provided her with an explanation.
Yun Qingyu furrowed her brows slightly, contemplating for a moment before deciding to show some leniency. She coldly said, "Get up; this time I will spare you from kneeling."
Her voice carried no emotion, like a still pond.
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