The group headed towards the nearby farmhouses and fields, leaving the corpses at the scene without burying or destroying them. They simply left them there so that their families could come to collect the bodies.

Chen Yi sat on horseback, closely following Qin Qingluo’s lead, as thoughts raced through his mind.

Human hearts are made of flesh. Witnessing such a scene, how can one remain indifferent?

These bandits wanted to kill and steal horses, to attack soldiers, and even to clash with the Prince of Annan’s forces. According to the law, killing them is natural. Yet, who drove them to become bandits?

Chen Yi took a deep breath, steadying his emotions.

Zhu E had once told him about the customs of the Southern Border, especially about the feudal family clans there. Unlike the orderly rituals of the Central Plains, each generation of the Prince of Annan needed to frequently inspect various regions. The main reason was that each county had Tusi family clans, with local officials like the Tusi Prefect, Tusi Commander, and Tusi Patrol. These local powerful families were like territorial snakes, and without suppression, once the Tusi grew in power, they would encroach upon the Prince Mansion. Not just Tusi counties, but even the population and taxes of directly affiliated counties would be seized. If the Prince of Annan acted like the emperors of the Central Plains, confined to the palace till their death, the Prince Mansion might have long ceased to exist in name or reality.

Therefore, conflicts and battles were inevitable. Throughout history, the Annan Royal Mansion seldom reduced its military force. During times of peace in the Southern Border, when there were no battles to train the troops, they would move north to conquer Sichuan of the Western Jin or move south to raid smaller states like Ailao, Rakai, and Kamora. In the past three hundred years, there have been several expeditions to Tianzhu, where the Princes of Annan captured many Brahma women as concubines.

The horses entered the manor, and everything was silent.

Inside the manor, instead of the luxurious pavilions and towers of the Central Plains, there was a strict fort. High walls of rammed earth enclosed large areas, containing dense, low adobe houses and thatched huts, along with some slightly more organized tile-roofed courtyards, probably the residences of housekeepers or guards.

The fields were neatly divided, but at this moment, they were deserted, with only drying grains and a few discarded farming tools scattered around.

Evidently, upon discovering their approach, everyone had hastily hidden and escaped.

The procession moved along the main road inside the fort, with the doors and windows of earthen houses tightly shut. Occasionally, one could glimpse pairs of eyes filled with fear and numbness through the gaps, disappearing back into the darkness.

Qin Qingluo sat on horseback, his gaze beneath the Mystic Iron face armor sharp as needles, methodically scanning the silent land. Knights of the Iron Scale Army followed closely, with bloodstains still drying on their armor and the cold gleam of their blades silently proclaiming the authority of the Prince Mansion.

The heavy sounds of hooves and the clashing of armor were the only rhythms in this dead silence, striking a chord in every concealed person’s heart.

Upon reaching a relatively spacious threshing ground at the center of the fort, there was finally some movement ahead.

A middle-aged man, wearing silk long robes and a scholar’s hat, hurriedly approached with several others, similarly well-dressed but clearly anxious and uneasy.

Behind them followed about a dozen household guards holding sticks, their faces pale, eyes evasive, hands trembling slightly as they gripped their weapons, lacking any imposing presence.

The middle-aged man in the lead, the Lord of the Tusi Family of this area, had a face full of smiles. From a distance, he deeply bowed until his waist nearly touched the ground:

"Commoner Dao Chengsi, along with the entire household, welcome the thousand-year-long life of the Prince of Annan! Your Highness’s visit brings great honor to our humble abode. My failure to greet you from afar is an unforgivable offense! Unforgivable!" His voice, purposely heightened and trembling, was filled with extreme fear.

The Southern Border Tusi Family Lords all spoke Mandarin, so their tone was accurate and clear. When those behind him also knelt one by one, calling "May the Prince live a thousand years," their voices immediately became uneven.

Qin Qingluo reined in his horse, looking down from above at Dao Chengsi and the others prostrating on the ground, without speaking.

The cold silence, like tangible pressure, steeply enveloped the threshing ground. The heads of the kneeling people lowered even more, their bodies beginning to tremble uncontrollably.

At this moment, beside a straw shed at the edge of the threshing ground, an old farmer with tattered clothing and white hair seemed stunned by the scene. He forgot to hide, even forgot to kneel, standing there blankly, staring straight in this direction.

"Insolent peasant! Bow before the Prince!" a housekeeper behind Dao Chengsi immediately scolded harshly.

The old farmer, frightened by the reprimand, shuddered all over, "thud," he fell heavily on the muddy ground, forehead pressing against the cold, damp earth, his emaciated body shaking like a fallen leaf in the wind.

Qin Qingluo looked at Dao Chengsi, still maintaining his deep bow, and finally spoke, his voice not loud yet clear as it reached everyone’s ears, hard and metallic like gold and stone:

"Dao Tusi."

"Commoner, commoner present!" Dao Chengsi quickly responded, not daring to lift his head.

"Just three miles outside the manor, by the woods," Qin Qingluo’s tone was as indifferent as commenting on a trivial matter unrelated to him, "dozens of bandits assaulted the royal entourage and were all executed by my trusted aides."

Dao Chengsi’s body suddenly stiffened, his hands on the ground spasming slightly. The people behind him became paralyzed with fear, not even daring to breathe.

"This commoner deserves death! This commoner deserves death!" Dao Chengsi’s voice carried a sobbing tone, his head lowering even further, "These must be, must be bandits from the nearby mountains! Our abode has always been law-abiding, never daring to harbor bandits! Disturbing the royal entourage, this commoner is guilty of crimes warranting death! Please punish me, Your Highness!"