Chapter 23

If Fu Tingjun had previously felt she understood what it meant for a thousand miles of desolation, now she was witnessing firsthand what it meant for corpses to litter the fields.

Yet the further they traveled, the more refugees they encountered.

Under the blazing noonday sun, the great trees stripped of their bark had long since withered, their bare brown branches reaching toward the sky like supplicating arms. Beneath the trees lay seven or eight shriveled corpses strewn haphazardly. The eldest appeared no more than forty-five or forty-six, sunken eyes wide open, expression filled with unwillingness; the youngest was still cradled in its mother's arms, naked, limbs like reed sticks, ribs clearly visible beneath its chest, its oversized head dangling limply from the crook of its mother's arm. The mother's clothing had been stripped away by who knows whom, leaving only a bellyband covering her body... utterly devoid of dignity!

Fu Tingjun thought of their own encounter with the mob that had surrounded them, and her fingertips turned cold. She hastily ate her steamed bun and drank some water, then set off with Zhao Jiuye.

The second time it was a single man. He staggered to his feet and lurched toward them, but before A Sen could even raise his staff, the man collapsed weakly to the ground.

The people near the wooden fence had already spotted them and crowded up to the barrier, gripping their broadswords, watching them with fierce, predatory eyes.

Fu Tingjun quickly said, "However, I don't know the way, I only know that this is the route one can take."

Fu Tingjun covered her eyes.

Zhao Jiuye smiled.

A murderous aura suddenly rose from Zhao Jiuye's brow. Between his fingers, at some point, he had produced two thin crescent blades, each the size of a willow leaf. They flew out with lightning speed and returned just as swiftly.

He could push her cart for an entire night.

Zhao Jiuye seemed to have eyes in the back of his head—whoever stepped forward got a strike from his staff, instantly collapsing them to the ground, unable to move.

Fu Tingjun's mind buzzed.

Those people were all stunned.

The men could still push carts, the children could still walk, and the women and elderly could still sit up straight—they were clearly well-fed and well-watered. Zhao Jiuye, A Sen, and Fu Tingjun stood out conspicuously among the gaunt, sallow-faced refugees. From time to time, people cast surprised, envious, even greedy glances at them, as if they were hiding some priceless treasure that invited covetousness, making Fu Tingjun feel as uneasy as if sitting on a bed of needles, constantly sensing that some danger was about to befall them.

One wore a robe of dark blue cocoon silk, the other a robe of lotus-blue cocoon silk. Their hands were empty, their faces pale, their expressions flustered—they did not look like refugees.

Only then did those people begin to feel fear, scattering like startled birds and beasts.

Before he could finish speaking, the youth in the dark blue cocoon silk robe cried out, "Ah!"—"You're a relative of Scholar Xie... the entire Xie family has been slaughtered by the refugees!"

Fu Tingjun drank her water numbly. In the dawn light, she suddenly noticed something slightly different about the trees around her.

"Just ask around for directions!" Zhao Jiuye said quickly, instructing A Sen to guard Fu Tingjun carefully while he himself stepped onto the main road.

Fu Tingjun's heart lurched at the sight: "Ninth Master, is something wrong?"

...

Before long, Zhao Jiuye returned.

Zhao Jiuye raised an eyebrow, signaling her to explain more clearly.

"Tomorrow after tomorrow, how many tomorrows there are!" Fu Tingjun found humor in her misery, feigning helplessness as she sighed and joked with him.

On the dusty branches of the great tree, two green leaves had sprouted.

In just two or three days, Fu Tingjun had lost an entire size.

She jumped down from the cart and ran swiftly toward the two youths.

Zhao Jiuye pushed Fu Tingjun's cart past them with an expressionless face, and even after they had gone a great distance, Fu Tingjun could still feel those people's gazes boring into her back like knives.

A Sen held it in his hand without moving: "Miss Fu, the moment we set it up for her, someone came right behind us and tore it off..."

"Shouldn't we rest a while?" Fu Tingjun looked at Zhao Jiuye in surprise.

The first time there were seven or eight people, Zhao Jiuye used the willow-leaf blades directly.

Zhao Jiuye sighed and said, "Let's go!"

Zhao Jiuye gave a cold snort and instructed A Sen: "Guard the young lady. We head north."

The smile softened his features, adding a touch of warmth.

Fu Tingjun was horrified and looked at Zhao Jiuye.

The weather was hot, and because they wiped their sweat frequently with no place to wash, the handkerchief reeked of sweat. But compared to the possibility of contracting an epidemic, these things became trivial.

"This indicates that the disaster situation here has eased somewhat," Zhao Jiuye said with a stern expression. "Perhaps Weinan County town can still draw water normally. But the more this is the case, the more refugees will want to gather in Weinan, and the harder it will be for us to enter the city."

Two youths came walking toward them from the opposite direction.

"The entrance to Lijia'ao is just ahead," he urged Fu Tingjun and A Sen to eat quickly.

"When I used to visit my maternal uncle, sometimes my mother felt the gifts she had prepared were too simple and didn't want my aunts to gossip, so I would go directly from Huayin to Weinan, and only after replenishing the gifts for my uncle would I continue to Fengyuan. If there was no need for expensive gifts, I would leave the main road and head south, taking the route through Lijia'ao to Fengyuan. That way, I could save a day's time."

After three more days of travel, Fu Tingjun still hadn't caught even a glimpse of Weinan County's city walls. It finally dawned on her: "So this was just a mirage to quench our thirst!"

They encountered two more robbery attempts along the way.

"Why are we going into the city?" Fu Tingjun laughed. "We're headed to Fengyuan, not Weinan County. We could go straight from Lijiawa to Fengyuan!"

Zhao Jiuye pushed Fu Tingjun and A Sen forward without stopping.

Fu Tingjun let out a soft "mm" and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to tie around her face.

"Gentlemen!" Zhao Jiuye's face was somewhat pale. "I am a relative of the Xie family of Fengyuan. Because my hometown was struck by disaster, I am going to seek refuge..."

Fu Tingjun felt somewhat embarrassed: "I'm not the one driving the cart—how would I notice such things..." Her expression turned displeased.

A Sen ran over and plucked a leaf: "Master, look!"

At night, she couldn't sleep.

"Don't look!" Zhao Jiuye blocked her view. "Didn't you bring a handkerchief? Tie it over your face. The stench of corpses is everywhere—be careful of epidemics."

They took small paths and traveled swiftly through the night, only resting by the roadside at dawn.

"We'd better hurry to Fengyuan," Zhao Jiuye said. "The road is too dangerous."

Those people knew of Zhao Jiuye's prowess, so they only attacked A Sen and Fu Tingjun.

Otherwise, they wouldn't have sealed off the village to defend themselves.

A chill ran down Fu Tingjun's spine. She buried her head in the cart, found a straw mat—not caring whose it was—and handed it to A Sen: "Help cover that woman with it!"

On ordinary days, Zhao Jiuye always wore a stern, gloomy expression. She never expected that when he smiled, he looked so handsome.

Zhao Jiuye's eyes brightened slightly at the news, clearly pleased by it.

Fu Tingjun quickly pushed the cart.

Her gaze couldn't help but drift toward the roadside again.

Fortunately, they were merely passing by the front of the village.

They had seen few people along the way. When they reached Lijiawa village, they saw that the entrance was barricaded with a log fence twice a man's height. Several burly villagers armed with large blades patrolled before the fence, looking quite fierce. Dozens of severed heads hung from the fence, blood dripping down and drying into a dark red.

One noon, as they rested by the roadside, the matter finally erupted.

This didn't look like a village at all—it was clearly a mountain stronghold claiming territory.

The two young men quickly walked to the log fence at the entrance of Lijiawa village and called out loudly: "We are from the household of the Eleventh Matriarch of Fengyuan. Fengyuan was ravaged by roving bandits, and only a dozen or so of us escaped. Please inform the clan elder—our grandfather is aged, and our mother and other womenfolk are supporting him from behind. Please send someone to receive them..."

Lijiawa was a village inhabited entirely by members of the Li clan, named for its location in a hollow of the hills.

To the north lay the direction of Weicheng.

Zhao Jiuye glanced at her and said, "At most three more days until we reach Weinan."

A Sen immediately ran over.

Zhao Jiuye's brow furrowed slightly, his expression solemn: "It seems Lijiawa has water and grain."

After several exchanges, those people dared not approach but were unwilling to give up. They surrounded the trio and pushed northward for the better part of an hour. Some grew impatient and lunged at them with fierce momentum.

A Sen acknowledged the order and gripped his staff across his chest.

But someone reached the two young men before her.

Fu Tingjun felt a surge of joy at the words. Thinking of her uncle's spacious, warm house—warm in winter and cool in summer, bathwater sprinkled with rose oil, clothes perfumed with lily incense—her spirits lifted considerably.

Among those who lunged forward, someone fell with a "thud." Bright red blood flowed from his neck, gradually seeping into the earth, leaving a patch of dark crimson.

A restless, agitated tension began to fill the air.

Fu Tingjun was stunned.

Zhao Jiuye looked at her with a strange expression, as if he wanted to laugh but was holding it back.

Fu Tingjun nodded slowly, sat down on the cart, and dared not raise her head again.

Because of this incident, Zhao Jiuye no longer dared to leave only A Sen by Fu Tingjun's side. This meant he couldn't go scouting alone—bringing Fu Tingjun and A Sen along was inconvenient—so he had to change their route, sticking as close to the main roads as possible.

Zhao Jiuye couldn't help but turn back to look.

"This time it really is three more days!" Zhao Jiuye said, the lingering smile in his eyes like a shimmering lake under the setting sun, still dazzling, causing the tension that had gripped Fu Tingjun's heart these past days to suddenly relax.

Zhao Jiuye laughed heartily, his bright eyes like morning stars in the sky, shining with dazzling light that made his features come alive.

Zhao Jiuye and A Sen both looked up.

"So how many more days until we reach Weinan?" Fu Tingjun, emboldened, asked with a touch of simple frankness in her tone.

The moment she closed her eyes, the woman's image floated before her mind.

After who knows how long, someone snapped back to their senses and let out a shriek, shouting "Murder! Murder!" while retreating. Others still refused to give up, standing there exchanging uneasy glances.

So many men, their gazes as fierce as starving wolves eyeing food, made Fu Tingjun's legs tremble.

Fengyuan was being ravaged by the refugees!

A Sen took the lead, while Zhao Jiuye brought up the rear, and they headed north.

"Ninth Master, Ninth Master, look!" Fu Tingjun exclaimed in delight, pointing at the trees by the roadside. "There are green leaves!"

Fu Tingjun breathed a sigh of relief.

First, four or five sturdy men lunged at the handcart from all directions as if by unspoken agreement, then seven or eight more followed close behind... Zhao Jiuye's eyebrow-level staff whirled with formidable might, yet those men seemed to throw themselves forward recklessly, heedless of death. Even as they were struck down, more surged forward, until they had completely surrounded the group.

"Three more days!" Zhao Jiuye said.

Zhao Jiuye's gaze turned even colder. The willow-leaf blade flew from his hand once more, and two more men collapsed.

Zhao Jiuye's expression sharpened as he straightened up and scanned the surroundings.

"If I tell you to go, then go!" It was Zhao Jiuye who spoke. "What's with all the talk!"