Chapter 291: Clearing the Clouds (Part 2)

The county constable who spotted Le Wuya never expected to encounter a miner so full of life.

Back when Li Ahu cracked Niu Sanqi's skull open with one shovel strike, the mine erupted into chaos, and indeed eight people took the chance to run.

But the authorities had quickly sealed off the mountains. Unless the escaped miners had the agility of apes and could swing down the sheer cliffs, there was no way they could escape Xiaolian Mountain.

And most of those who escaped had aging parents and young kids depending on them.

The mine had strict rules—family members couldn't work the same pit. When they bolted on their own, the others didn't react in time and couldn't escape.

Their families were being held in the village, and no one knew what had happened to them. Five of them, sick with worry, snuck back—only to get locked up before they even reached the village.

Still on the missing list were Sun Shi, a miner from Sun Family Hamlet, and her son, an unnamed simpleton.

—That mother and son were the exception—they worked the same pit together.

After all, aside from his mother, no one was willing to work with a fool.

Beyond them, the missing list also included a miner from Ge Liangping named Liang Xiu—a burly, muscular man. He'd just lost his father and had no wife or family, so he had nothing to lose.

But even if those three had nine lives, their odds were slim to none. Two explosions, days without food or water, wild beasts roaming the mountains, and hidden traps and pits for bears and wolves—survival was nearly impossible.

The constable, who had long since let his guard down, was more startled than pleased to see a living person in miner's clothes suddenly appear out of nowhere.

Without a second thought about who this was, his shaking hands went for the signal flare at his waist.

This thing, nicknamed the "Fire Kite," could shoot a ball of flame dozens of feet into the air once lit.

But his hands shook so badly the "Fire Kite" slipped and tumbled down, rolling all the way to where Le Wuya had vanished.

Before the runner could even curse in frustration, he watched in horror as a blazing red flame shot up from the slope below, straight toward him!

His heart nearly stopped. He dodged, almost tumbling off his perch.

After barely steadying himself, he grabbed a swaying tree, still shaken, and peered down the slope.

In the darkness, he saw the miner raise an empty gunpowder tube, waving it tauntingly at him—then, in three quick leaps, vanish from sight.

...Damn it, it had to be that idiot!

What sane person would set off a signal flare and bring the pursuers right down on their own head?!

Pull one thread, and the whole web moves.

The torches scattered across the mountain all stopped at once, then surged like a tide toward where the signal had gone up!

Le Wuya moved like a swallow, darting down the path he had already scouted, his eyes and ears attuned to everything around him as he slid and leaped.

As Le Wuya had expected, many of those digging for corpses in the village stopped what they were doing, leaning on their hoes and picks to gaze toward the mountain—but made no move to give chase.

This confirmed Le Wuya's suspicions.

Though the officials of Dansui County were steeped in corruption, they weren't so united in villainy that they all moved as one.

If the Magistrate wanted someone dead, the whole county wouldn't be falling over themselves to hand him the knife, right?

If that were the case, Zhou Wenchang wouldn't need to bother being an official—he could start his own cult.

From Le Wuya's long experience with treacherous officials, the ones who did dirty work always had a secret inner circle.

The mountain and the area below were two completely different worlds.

Below were the officials and runners sent from the county seat for disaster relief, with no idea what was really going on.

Up on the mountain were the soldiers who'd originally been tasked with guarding the mine—they knew the terrain.

If Le Wuya was right, Magistrate Zhou wore two faces—one for his inner circle, another for everyone else.

So how would he explain this sudden "miner" to the clueless officers below?

A moment later, Le Wuya got his answer.

Zhou Yunchang turned and whispered something to the man beside him.

The runner beside him immediately went pale, blew a sharp whistle, and barked: "Bandits! Escaped bandits! Protect the Magistrate!"

The escaped bandit Le Wuya gave a cold, silent laugh and plunged into the sparse woods below the mountain.

The night was hazy, and his clothes were so filthy you couldn't tell their original color. Logically, Zhou Yunchang couldn't have recognized him from that far away.

But the instant he saw a living person charging down the mountain, his first instinct was to silence them—proof of the man's poisonous cruelty.

That old bastard Wang Su was probably thinking the same thing.

Ironically, Wang Su trusted not only Le Wuya's character but also his skills.

He was dead certain that once Le Wuya got to Dansui, he'd dig up something.

If Le Wuya could keep himself from killing Zhou Wenchang, would a local snake like Zhou Wenchang—with tentacles and informants all over the county—just let Le Wuya dig up the truth?

A single survivor escaping Xiaolian Mountain would be a spark that could start a wildfire!

The stakes were clear, yet Le Wuya still chose this path that would bring the heat down on himself.

With his stealth skills, he could've slipped in and out without a sound.

But what if there were still survivors up there, like Sun Huizhen and Little Dumpling?

He desperately needed this moment of chaos on both sides—a window to escape alive.

Even if he fled far away and chose to lay low, refusing to come forward and testify against Zhou Wenchang, that would be fine too.

Human life is heavier than heaven itself—how could it be buried in vain under a mine?

In the midst of his desperate sprint, Le Wuya reached inside his clothes and pulled out the white jade chess piece, clutching it tightly in his palm.

Xiaoliu, protect me.

May your chess piece bring me luck.

"Whiz—"

The hurried footsteps behind him were accompanied by the whistle of an arrow cutting through the air, streaking straight for Le Wuya's back!

He rolled on the ground, barely dodging it. Without hesitation, he sprang up and kept sprinting, ignoring the gash the arrowhead had carved across his neck.

Magistrate Zhou had come to rescue survivors and provide relief—and he'd brought an archer, and a damn good one at that.

...Truly, he had planned for every contingency.

He moved like a startled hare, sprinting for miles before ducking with practiced ease into the thatched cottage of the old woman who had once taken him in: "Granny, my horse—"

The granny, having changed into a loose hemp undershirt and about to retire for the night, saw the transformed Le Wuya return, soaked through his thin clothes with sweat, a streak of blood on his neck. She stared blankly for a long moment before coming to her senses, shuffling forward unsteadily, her withered fingers gripping his arm like iron pincers. Without a word, she dragged him to her large stove, lifted off a rusted iron pot, and dug out two bricks to reveal a square hole behind the stove's firebox.

...Just large enough for a grown man to hide inside.

Le Wuya had no time to ask where the hole came from; he scrambled in on all fours.

The granny had just replaced the bricks and set the pot back when a hoarse voice called from outside the yard: "Granny Sun, are you home?"

Crouched in that cramped, stifling space, Le Wuya could faintly hear the commotion outside.

"Village Head, what's the matter?"

"Granny Sun, have you seen a fugitive?"

"Don't say such scary things, where would a fugitive come from?"

"Don't know, but it sounds frightening. The officer said they're heading this way. These officers are staying to search the village, while the rest are chasing along the main road. Since you live at the village entrance, we came to ask you first."

Granny Sun's tone was none too friendly: "What do you want here? I'm just a lonely old widow—what could I possibly have to do with a fugitive?"

The young constable, sensing the fire in her words, turned sour himself: "Old woman, we're on official duty! Why you giving us attitude? Getting cheeky, are you?"

The Village Head, seemingly knowing the reason why, quickly interjected with an apologetic smile: "Oh, Sir, don't be angry. Granny Sun has been a widow for decades, it's scrambled her brains. Don't mind her!"

Granny Sun, not one to back down, threw a fit right then and there: "Tell your Magistrate Wang I'm not afraid of him! When he rounded up the mine workers, he took my husband and my sons—none of them came back alive, only me left! Think I'm cheeky? Fine! Take me too, I'd rather die and be reborn than live on like this—everyone's dead but me!"

Seeing Granny Sun dredge up old grievances and go on about Magistrate Wang, the young constable curled his lip in disdain: "Truly senile!"

He waved to the constables behind him and barked, "Let's go!"

Granny Sun stepped forward a few paces, her gaze dropping, and noticed a fresh drop of blood on the earthen floor of the main room.

Luckily, she had no money for a lamp, so the room was pitch dark—the constables couldn't see a thing.

She shuffled over in her slippers and quietly stepped on the bloodstain.

As they were leaving, the Village Head glanced sideways and spotted something odd. Pointing at the old horse in the shed—head lowered, grazing, and originally Le Wuya's—he squinted through his cloudy eyes and asked, "Eh, what's that? When did you get livestock?"

Granny Sun lied without batting an eye: "An old donkey, bought cheap. It can haul some goods for me. In another two years, I truly won't be able to walk anymore."

The old horse, utterly unbothered by being called a donkey, contentedly chewed on fodder like one.

Hearing this, the Village Head showed a flicker of pity.

But only a flicker.

He bowed and scraped as he led the constables to search the other occupied homes in the village.

Once the group had gone, Granny Sun scuffed her foot over the bloodstained spot again and again until it was gone, then returned to the house.

She went back to the kitchen, lifted the iron pot, pried open the bricks, and met Le Wuya's eyes.

Le Wuya pressed his palms together, grinning like a fox bowing to the moon, and gave her a playful salute.

"Stay hidden a while longer, don't rush out—wait until everyone's gone," Granny Sun said, looking him up and down. "...That's not what you were wearing when you left. What have you been up to?"

Le Wuya gripped the pot's rim: "Told you, I went to do something big. ...How come there's a hole behind your stove?"

Granny Sun gazed at Le Wuya, a tender warmth welling up in her murky old eyes.

"Back in my youth, Magistrate Wang was conscripting miners—wicked, he was."

"My husband hid in the water vat; my eldest son in the rice sack; my youngest, right where you are now—but not one of them was spared..."

Granny Sun rose on her toes and patted Le Wuya's sweat-damp hair: "Today, at last, I've caught one."