90: Are you satisfied with this gift?

The sun set behind the western hills, and the sky gradually darkened. A carriage pulling a coffin was slowly heading toward the city gate.

"Halt!"

The soldiers conducting inspections spotted them and immediately blocked the coachman pulling the carriage. The lead soldier looked at the man, then at the coffin on the carriage, and couldn't help but laugh: "It's already dark, and your family is only now holding a funeral procession?"

"Officer, I'm from the public cemetery outside the city!" the coachman hurriedly apologized with a smile. "Someone died, and they asked me to take them to the cemetery. I don't want to be out here either; hauling a corpse in the middle of the night is terribly unlucky. But what can I do? This is how I make a living."

"Don't give me that nonsense!" the soldier scolded displeasedly. "Open the coffin and let me inspect it. Minister Shen has personally ordered strict inspections at every checkpoint. You're hauling a corpse out of the city after nightfall; if I don't inspect you, who should I inspect?"

"Officer, you can inspect it if you want, but the problem is... this person died of smallpox." The coachman said, looking extremely troubled. "I had smallpox years ago, so I'm not afraid, but if you insist on looking..."

"What? Why didn't you say so earlier? Take it away, take it away!" Hearing this, the soldier immediately dodged to the side. "Damn it, why didn't you make that clear just now?"

"I was just so intimidated by you officers!" the coachman said with a bitter expression. "I'll leave now, I'll take it out of the city right away!"

The soldier didn't say anything more to him, turned, and waved his hand. The soldiers blocking the gate automatically cleared a path, letting the coachman pull the carriage out of the city. However, the coachman didn't notice that the soldier who had just spoken to him was looking at his back, his eyes suddenly turning cold.

He turned his head to look at a soldier beside him and lowered his voice to give an order: "Go to the Governor's Mansion and tell the Minister that the target has left."

"Yes, Captain. Should we pursue?"

"Pursue what? This isn't our concern; someone else will handle it."

After leaving the city gate, the coachman drove the carriage forward for a distance before stopping when no one was around. Several men carrying bundles, dressed in plain clothes, and wielding broadswords jumped out from the grass by the side of the road.

The coachman shed his previous timid demeanor, beckoned them over to help open the coffin, and Zhang Yingcheng, coughing, struggled to sit up while clutching a bundle.

"Young Master, you have suffered," the coachman hurriedly went over to support him. "There was really no other way; I couldn't get you out of the city otherwise."

"It doesn't matter, cough cough cough, but now that we've left the city, I fear there are still Shen Family Army soldiers stationed ahead." Zhang Yingcheng covered his mouth and coughed; under the moonlight, his face looked even paler. "The waterway is no longer an option, but as for the overland route..."

"Young Master, no need to worry; a carriage has already been arranged." As the coachman spoke, he took a letter out from his bosom. "This is from Lord Zhang, entrusted to me for you. After you arrive in the capital, take this letter to the Zhou Residence..."

Before he could finish, an arrow struck him right between the eyes. The coachman didn't even have time to change his expression before he was shot dead by that single arrow!

"Protect the Young Master!"

Those men reacted extremely quickly, rushing up almost simultaneously to surround Zhang Yingcheng, holding their broadswords horizontally as they vigilantly scanned their surroundings.

However, it was pitch black; they could see nothing and hear no unusual sounds. Yet, unexpectedly, arrow after arrow shot out from the darkness, as if they had completely locked onto them, each one aiming straight for the guards' foreheads.

In just a moment, the guards fell to the ground one after another, without even the strength to resist. After a brief moment of shock, Zhang Yingcheng let out a scream, then turned and ran with his bundle.

But another arrow struck from the darkness, piercing his left thigh. He was already weak, and after being ambushed by the arrow, he collapsed to the ground, clutching his injured left leg and wailing incessantly.

"Tsk, this piece of trash is actually the Imperial Son-in-Law's half-brother?"

"Heh, he's not as good-looking as the Imperial Son-in-Law, not to mention his physique. If the Imperial Son-in-Law had been hit by this arrow... forget it, better not think about such things."

Although Zhang Yingcheng was in excruciating pain from his leg, he couldn't help but freeze when he heard the woman's voice. This was completely beyond his expectations. In his view, even if there were an interception, it would be the Imperial Guards or Shen Xian's people; it couldn't possibly be a group of women!

"Stop bickering. The Minister is keeping the Imperial Son-in-Law for a meal; we must return before the Imperial Son-in-Law goes back to the Temporary Palace," a woman filled with authority suddenly spoke. "There's no need to be so meticulous; just do as Her Highness ordered."

"Understood, Aunt Ying Hong." A somewhat raspy, aged-sounding voice replied. "But if this man screams..."

"Don't worry, cut off his head first," the woman called Ying Hong said nonchalantly, as casually as if she were discussing what to eat for the day. "I need to take the head back and deliver it to a certain place. As for the corpse... once it's taken care of, follow Her Highness's orders and send it back to the Zhang Family. You must ensure Lord Zhang sees with his own eyes how his son died!"

Ying Hong's voice paused for a moment, then she suddenly chuckled. Zhang Yingcheng clearly heard the footsteps slowly approaching him. He was about to scream, but unexpectedly, a slender hand grabbed his chin and pulled it downwards, dislocating it.

"Young Master Zhang, the Imperial Son-in-Law sends his regards."

Under the moonlight, Ying Hong was dressed in black, her face wearing a startling smile, her eyes cold: "You are about to die, but Her Highness's intention is that even in death, you must be a ghost who knows why. When you were young, you acted as a good informant for your maternal grandfather, telling him about the spies planted around Zhang Jiawen, and when the Imperial Son-in-Law and Lady Mo would leave the Zhang Family, which led to them being intercepted halfway."

"So today, please be sure to accept this suffering and grievance with a smile. Although someone saved the Imperial Son-in-Law and the Lady back then, it doesn't prevent you from dying today. Oh, that's right, Young Master Zhang, the Imperial Son-in-Law is blessed by fate and protected by the heavens, but you... are not."

A series of whimpers came from Zhang Yingcheng's throat, but the smile on Ying Hong's face suddenly vanished, and then she slowly drew the curved blade she was holding in her left hand...

Zhang Jiawen suddenly woke up. He had been sitting at his desk when, for some reason, a wave of exhaustion hit him. His nerves had been frayed for the past few days, leaving him unable to sleep, and when drowsiness finally struck, he had dozed off at his desk.

But for some reason, an inexplicable sense of panic jolted him awake from his dream. Just as Zhang Jiawen was about to stand up, a servant stumbled in, pale-faced, lips trembling: "Mas, Master, the Imperial Guards, the Imperial Guards have brought a carriage, saying, saying it's a gift for you, Master!"

"What gift?"

"It's, it's the, the coffin that took the eldest young master away! The Imperial Guards, the Imperial Guards also brought a message for me to tell you, Master. He, he said... this gift, are, are you satisfied with it?"