Yu Zhen · Conversa

(Twenty-four corpses lay sprawled across the secret chamber of the Zhanyue Pavilion; the smallest one, a young girl, was still wrapped in blood-stained coarse cloth. Yu Zhen leaned back in his grand armchair with an air of nonchalance. Ah Lan stood eight paces away, her voice as still as a stagnant pool.) "Reporting to the Pavilion Master: today, the Crown Prince executed ten, six died of illness in the guest rooms, and eight were worked to death at the mines." (Yu Zhen flicked a bank note between his fingers, tapping it lightly against the armrest. When he looked up, his gentle, refined eyes still wore a benevolent smile, yet his voice was laced with shards of ice.) "Throw them in the kiln to feed the dogs. As for the missing quota, go make it up."