As the original Shangshu, He Zhizhang still had the show of the reason.

A group of dozens of people slowly turned into the long street leading to Suzaku Avenue.

It was the hour of Mao, and there were not many pedestrians on the street, but most of them were rushing to and from various trucks and mule carts for delivering goods. They were shouting one after another, and they also felt like they were traveling around.

He Zhizhang is no longer surprised by this scene.

Chang'an is the most prosperous city in the world, and every day's daily consumption is astronomical.

Chang'an is worth every inch of land, and all demand and supply need to be transported from the countryside outside the city.

Some are transported directly from the Central Plains, with the Yellow River transported to the Weishui Wharf of Chang'an.

The market has not opened at the time of Mao, but many shops in Chang'an will supplement fresh supply at this time.

He Zhizhang is not a domineering person, but it is a truth that the people do not fight with officials in ancient times.

People from all walks of life saw officials passing by, and they all scattered, regardless of whether they were good or bad officials.

He Zhizhang took the lead, his expression a little solemn and tired.

The surrounding guards were leisurely and relaxed, chatting and laughing slowly forward, with a happy expression.

At one end of the road, a carriage driven by a pair of horses slowly came. The person who was driving the carriage was wearing a bamboo hat and could not see the person's face clearly, but the person who drove the carriage was walking in the middle of the road and ushered in front of He Zhizhang and his group without dodging.

The two guards leading the way, when they saw that the carriage was coming, they hurriedly shouted, intending to let the driver drive towards the side.

Unexpectedly, the driver actually raised his whip and hit the horse's back heavily. The horse neighed and rushed towards He Zhizhang in the carriage.

He Zhizhang's guards were all ordinary servants. He had never seen such a scene before. He exclaimed and fled to all directions.

The carriage crashed towards He Zhizhang.

He Zhizhang was a little panicked and showed extraordinary riding skills at this critical moment.

He accelerated instantly, using the explosive power of his mount, he passed by the carriage in the slant.

He Zhizhang undoubtedly made the most correct choice. At that time, only by accelerating forward could he avoid head-on collisions.

The six Confucian arts: ritual, music, archery, ward, calligraphy, and number.

In the art of chariots and horses, He Zhizhang obviously has extraordinary achievements.

But just as He Zhizhang passed by the carriage, the carriageman took out a short blade from his arms and threw it at He Zhizhang's back.

He Zhizhang happened to look back at the situation, and in panic, he turned over and dodge.

If he was young and ten years old, He Zhizhang would not be a big deal to do this difficult move.

But he is already sixty years old this year, and his body is no longer as big as before. The strength of his lumbar muscles cannot support him, so he directly flashed his waist, rolled down from the horse's back, and fell to the ground.

The coachman missed a blow and jumped down from the carriage dealer and headed straight for the guard.

After a while, the panicked guards had calmed down. The brave two people blocked the coachman and drew out the sword that they had not used for many years, looking at the enemy with some nervousness.

The coachman shouted, "Get out!"

He used both hands and feet, snatched the blade with his bare hands, snatched a knife, kicked a guard out, and the cold light flashed in his hand, bringing out a blood mist.

The coachman was about to rush to He Zhizhang.

A young man holding a knife suddenly flashed in, his knife was covered in blood, and he launched a sharp attack without saying a word.

One sword is as fast as the wind and thunder.

At this time, a foul smell spread among the panicked vendors on both sides of the street, and black smoke was everywhere.

It's winter now, and the cold wind is howling.

In just a short breath, black smoke had already filled the streets.

The coachman turned around and hid in the black smoke.

The lightning knife Wu Yuan narrowed his eyes slightly and did not chase after him, but pushed down He Zhizhang's side.
Chapter completed!