Assassination, I Still Want to Trouble You

Sixteen guards—eight unleashed on the remaining attackers, while the other eight, together with two maids, mercilessly executed anyone still clinging to life.

"Stop! Stop!" The constable captain saw the scene from afar and rushed forward at a sprint.

If everyone was dead, there'd be no witnesses left—he needed a survivor...

Keep someone alive?

How naïve. With Serena Feng striking so ruthlessly, would she ever leave anyone alive to testify against her? The sixteen guards at her side were as fierce as wolves and tigers.

Want a living witness? Next time, get here faster. Her voice dropped, cold and edged with murderous intent.

"Stop him." Serena Feng ignored what was happening outside; she only gave orders.

A soldier’s duty is obedience; she trusted that the guards from Prince Samuel Manor understood this principle.

They did not disappoint her. The guards from Prince Samuel Manor blocked his way—without Serena Feng’s command, they would never let anyone pass.

At first, the guards from Prince Samuel Manor balked at taking orders from a woman. But after witnessing Serena Feng's ruthless, decisive command, they realized their new mistress was no ordinary figure. Obeying her brought no shame—if only she weren't a woman, she could lead them into battle.

"Miss, all cleaned up." As the final wail died away, the maid stepped forward, her voice respectful and steady as she reported to Serena Feng.

"Good. Let them through."

If Victor Zhao could, he'd spit blood—this woman twisted right and wrong with a smile. She'd slaughtered people and still held the upper hand. He forced down his fury, replying with forced humility: "Miss Feng, you commanded your guards to kill in the street. That's a grave offense. Please don't make things harder for me—come with me, and we'll settle this with the Inspector."

"Your servant Victor Zhao greets Miss Serena Feng." Victor Zhao was the constable captain, and his face looked truly awful at the sight.

This was a slap in his face—committing violence in broad daylight in the imperial capital. Was there no law here?

"Ordered my guards to kill in the street? Lord Zhao, which eye of yours saw my guards spill blood, which ear of yours heard me give the order?" Serena Feng's voice dropped, cold and suffused with killing intent. Victor Zhao recoiled, his composure shattered by the sheer force of her presence—a woman, yet terrifying as any battlefield general.

A Zhao—if she guessed right, this Lord Zhao must be related to the Zhao clan tied to Sun Yijin’s betrothal. No one from a humble background could attain this post, nor dare to meddle in this matter.

People from the Zhao clan—there was no need to curry favor. Better to offend them outright.

"I wouldn’t dare. I am here on official business and must ask Miss Feng to cooperate and come with me to the Capital Inspectorate Office." In other words, he intended to arrest her—and it was obvious who he meant to take.

Serena Feng let out a cold laugh. "So, corpses beside my carriage means I ordered a massacre? Lord Zhao, how did you earn your post—condemning without trial or investigation? Who gave you the right to pass judgment on me?"

My guards may have overstepped and taken over your job, Lord Zhao, but now the cleanup is yours. You can check for any survivors, and if there are, interrogate them. I’d like to know who dared to incite these rabble to disturb the House Feng of Loyalty’s carriage."

Have to admit, the Emperor’s grant of marquis rank is handy. Even if it’s just a title without real power, in the capital, you need some kind of status—otherwise, you’re just a nobody, easy to be bullied.

If he could, Victor Zhao would cough up blood—this woman could twist black into white. She killed people and still had the upper hand. Victor Zhao forced down his anger and said humbly, "Miss Feng, you ordered your guards to kill in the street. That’s a serious crime. Please don’t make this difficult for me—come with me, and we’ll discuss it with the Inspector."

Once she entered the Capital Inspectorate Office, Serena Feng would never get out. The Inspector was from the Empress’s family—even Prince Nolan couldn’t sway him. Even if Prince Nolan pulled strings to get Serena out, it would be too late.

No one dared speak. Serena Feng killed without blinking, and the sixteen guards flanking her were as fierce as wolves and tigers. Who would have the guts to provoke her now?

"Ordered my guards to kill in the street? Lord Zhao, which eye of yours saw my guards kill anyone, which ear of yours heard me give the order?" Serena Feng’s voice dropped, laced with a chilling murderous intent. Victor Zhao flinched, stumbling back, shocked at how terrifying a woman could be.

With a single word, Serena Feng recast the dead from rabble to assassins—she was rewriting the story. She'd never admit to butchering commoners; she killed assassins, and it was self-defense. Dead men tell no tales, and she'd made sure no survivor could ever testify against her.

It shouldn’t be possible… Was she really a general’s daughter, inheriting General Feng’s talent?

"Miss Feng, these people died right next to your carriage." Victor Zhao braced himself. He’d thought this was an easy job, but it turned into a nightmare—no one could have predicted Serena Feng would be so bold, so wild.

Harlan Huo, the burly squad leader Dominic Zhai had assigned, was built like a bear but sharp-eyed and cautious—a mix Serena Feng admired.

Listen closely, Lord Zhao: These rabble tried to assassinate me. My guards killed them in self-defense, and I am now officially reporting an attempted assassination.

Most of these city constables owed their posts to family connections—pampered sons, used to bullying peasants and browbeating poor soldiers. But in the shadow of these battle-hardened men, they were nothing at all.

"Lord Zhao, you'd better dig deep. I'm waiting for a survivor to help unmask the real mastermind." Guilty hearts always tremble—Serena's words made Victor Zhao's legs turn to jelly.

"Miss Feng..." Victor Zhao was drenched in sweat. The constables behind him were stunned into silence.

How could they speak? Miss Feng killed without blinking, and the sixteen guards around her looked like wolves and tigers. Who would dare provoke them?

Serena Feng ignored them and ordered her guard: "Harlan Huo, assist Lord Zhao in checking if any of these assassins are still alive."

From rabble to assassins—Serena Feng was shaping the story. She’d never admit to slaughtering commoners; she killed assassins, and it was self-defense. Dead men tell no tales, and she wouldn’t let any survivor testify against her.

As for physical evidence? Where would you even find that...

If anyone wanted to make a scene, she’d be happy to oblige. One charge or ten—it made no difference to her.

Harlan Huo was the burly squad leader among the guards assigned by Dominic Zhai. He looked intimidating but was actually meticulous and cautious—traits Serena Feng appreciated.

"Yes, Miss." Harlan Huo stepped forward, looming over Victor Zhao like a mountain.

Most of these constables in the capital got their posts through connections—they’re pampered young men, used to bullying commoners and scaring poor soldiers. But in front of these hardened men, they’re nothing.

"Lord Zhao, you’d better investigate thoroughly. I’m waiting for a survivor to help uncover the mastermind behind all this." Guilty people are always nervous—Serena’s words made Victor Zhao’s legs tremble.

Could Serena Feng actually have evidence, and know who was behind it all?