Ms. Diviner: The Prodigal Daughter's Return

Mo Yanhong grew increasingly uneasy, his heart mired in turmoil, and a layer of fine sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Noticing the sweat on Mo Yanhong’s forehead, the guards around him had long realized they had overstepped, falling utterly silent. Even those whose tendons had been severed bore the pain, not daring to moan any longer.

Although it was damaging to his reputation and yielding would seriously affect his prestige among his subordinates, after weighing the situation, Mo Yanhong still dared not act rashly. Having spent a long time in the Capital, he understood well that there were people in the world whom even the Anyun Royal Family could not afford to provoke.

”Since we all come from noble families, let’s let this go for today. But I, Mo Yanhong, will remember this incident. It’s best not to let me see you in the Capital again,” Mo Yanhong spat venomously, turning to leave.

His face was pale as iron and his facial muscles twitched as he spoke.

Having been domineering in the Capital for so many years, this was the first time he had ever conceded to anyone, and in front of so many subordinates. In that moment, he felt as though he had lost all his dignity.

Seeing Mo Yanhong leave, the injured guards picked up their companions and followed behind.

After leaving the inn, Mo Yanhong’s expression remained dark and gloomy.

”My lord, are we really just going to let them go like this? Even in the Capital, our Mo Family has never suffered such a loss, let alone being bullied in such a remote, impoverished place,” a guard complained bitterly.

”Nonsense, do you think I need you to tell me what to do?” Mo Yanhong slapped the guard across the face.

The guard’s words were like a loud slap across his face, violently striking him. Mo Yanhong’s long-repressed anger finally erupted, albeit directed at his own people.

”You go and find out exactly who this Mu Hanyan is,” Mo Yanhong commanded after delivering the slap, feeling slightly relieved.

”Yes.” The guard, holding his face, immediately left the group to inquire about Mu Hanyan.

...

”Gentlemen, I will get your rooms ready right away,” the shopkeeper, relieved to see Mo Yanhong gone, eagerly told Mu Hanyan and his companions.

”You’ve just been hurt; we can manage on our own,” said Mu Hanyan, handing over a silver note to the shopkeeper.

”How can I let guests do it themselves? After taking your Miracle Medicine, my injuries are all healed—better than ever before,” the shopkeeper cheerfully said, taking the silver note and jumping in shock, ”This is too much, too much! If the young master has no loose change, there’s no need to give anything; consider it my treat.”

Normally, a premium room cost only several taels of silver, yet the silver note Mu Hanyan gave was for one thousand taels, which felt burning hot in his hands.

”Consider it compensation for the big business you lost and the trouble brought about for no reason,” Mu Hanyan said nonchalantly. Such a small sum of money was, of course, nothing to her.

”What trouble for no reason? It should rather be called a tremendous fortune from heaven. After taking that Spirit Pill earlier, not only are my injuries fully healed but I feel twenty years younger. I might even live another ten or twenty years. If it weren’t for me knowing that you, my guests, would not fuss over a few taels of broken silver, which would make too much fuss and seem disrespectful to you, I would have declined to take any payment. How could I accept such a large sum of money?” the shopkeeper earnestly said.