LW chapter 8

 

Through the open window, Chen Qing saw two figures quietly entering their yard. He didn’t have time to put on a coat before getting out of bed and grabbing the wooden stick he kept behind the door.

As an orphan and widow, Aunt Sun always kept something to protect themselves, but in the five years since Chen Qing had arrived, it had never been used, and a layer of dust coated its surface.

After a while, when there was no sound outside, Chen Qing didn’t dare rush out recklessly. But when he heard them open his mother’s door, he couldn’t hold back any longer; he was terrified they’d hurt her.

He quietly opened his door and saw the two of them carefully working the latch on his mother’s door. Swallowing nervously, he gripped the stick tightly and swung it at the back of the man’s head.

The man let out a shout and turned—it was Chen Si.

After Chen Si and Meng Zhuzi lost their jobs at Zhou Yuan’s place, they were too ashamed to show their faces, especially since Zhou Yuan had threatened them. They went into town to drink but were thrown out when they couldn’t pay.

They nursed a grudge but couldn’t find a way to take revenge on Zhou Yuan himself. Tonight, seeing Zhou Yuan deliver things to Chen Qing’s house reminded them of the funeral the family had once held. When Zhou Yuan had visited before, they’d overheard that Chen Qing’s family had received Meng Tao’s pension—undoubtedly a good sum of money.

Fueled by liquor, they came here without hesitation. However, they hadn’t expected Chen Qing to be so vigilant. Before they could take anything, Chen Qing hit Chen Si with his stick, sending him crashing to the ground.

He came to his senses and lunged to grab the stick out of Chen Qing’s hand.

Chen Qing was breathing fast. As Chen Si reached for it, Chen Qing swung again, putting all his strength into a second blow to Chen Si’s head.

Struck twice and half-drunk, Chen Si slumped down along the wall.

Seeing Chen Si collapse, Meng Zhuzi panicked but managed to muster some reckless courage. He lunged at Chen Qing, trying to seize the stick. Realizing what he was trying to do, Chen Qing bolted out into the yard.

In his panic, he forgot that he could scream for help. Clutching the stick, Chen Qing backed up step by step as Meng Zhuzi closed in.

“I’ll kill you!” Meng Zhuzi growled. When he thought he had an opening, he rushed straight at Chen Qing.

Chen Qing had no choice—he would either die or drag Meng Zhuzi down with him. He stumbled back and hit something solid.

He almost leapt in fright, then realized Zhou Yuan was behind him, holding the blade that had killed on the battlefield.

Chen Qing jolted so hard that the stick fell from his hand with a dull thud. All the strength left his body, and he slumped to the ground.

But he didn’t hit the ground—Zhou Yuan caught him. His legs were too weak to support his weight, so Zhou Yuan slowly helped him sit down.

Under the moonlight, everything was deathly silent. Crimson blood pooled brightly on the ground. The sight flashed before Chen Qing’s eyes, and he let out a ragged scream before blacking out.

Meng Zhuzi froze at the cold glint of Zhou Yuan’s knife as he stood in the doorway like a murderous spirit. He tried to flee, but Zhou Yuan slashed his blade across Meng Zhuzi’s shoulder, sending him sprawling into unconsciousness.

Aunt Sun came out, wrapped in her clothes. Seeing Chen Qing lying senseless on the ground, she hurried to fetch a coat from his room and draped it over him.

Zhou Yuan ignored the two men on the ground. His gaze fell on Chen Qing’s bare feet. He hadn’t even had time to put on shoes. Despite Chen Qing’s efforts to keep the yard spotless, his feet were already dirty.

“Auntie, are you all right?” Zhou Yuan asked in a low voice.

“I’m fine.” Aunt Sun shook her head. “Aqing was alert, so nothing happened. I think they were after money.”

She lowered her eyes to Chen Qing, panic welling up again. “Aqing, what about Aqing?”

Zhou Yuan bent down to check Chen Qing’s pulse. “He was scared out of his mind and passed out. He’ll be fine.”

Aunt Sun was frightened, too, but she was steadier than Chen Qing. She quickly fetched some rope, asked Zhou Yuan to help tie up the two intruders, and then tried to lift Chen Qing back into his room.

However, her back was injured, and despite Chen Qing’s slim frame, she couldn’t carry him.

Zhou Yuan finished binding the men and saw Aunt Sun clutching her waist, unable to move Chen Qing at all.

“Auntie, let me help you,” Zhou Yuan said, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his voice hoarse.

“All right—thank you so much.” Aunt Sun rubbed her waist. “I’m too old—I can’t move Aqing, who is very small.”

Zhou Yuan took a deep breath and easily lifted Chen Qing off the ground. To him, he weighed no more than a basin of water.

Aunt Sun held the curtain aside while Zhou Yuan carried Chen Qing into the room and laid him on the bed. He dared not look again, turning and leaving the room with exaggerated care. Aunt Sun tucked Chen Qing in before following him back out.

Looking at the tied-up intruders, she frowned, unsure what to do next.

Zhou Yuan spoke first. “I’ll take them to my place. Tomorrow, I’ll tell everyone that they came to my house to cause trouble because I wouldn’t rehire them.”

Aunt Sun nodded quickly. “Thank you. Thank you.”

After all, Chen Qing was a widower. Even if these two only came to steal, people could be cruel. No matter what he did, he’d never be able to wash off the stain.

By taking them away, Zhou Yuan severed any connection to Chen Qing, ensuring he wouldn’t be shamed in the village.

Zhou Yuan slung one man over each shoulder and carried them back to his place. While they were still unconscious, he tied them to a tree not far from his house.

Instead of going back to the shed, he sat down nearby with his blade, keeping watch.

That night, Chen Qing fell into a nightmare.

A sea of blood spread before him.

His father had lost his life beneath a robber’s knife.

Though they were poor, the three of them had lived happily enough. His father was a farmer, and his stepfather was a tailor. Their meager income somehow kept them going.

But disaster struck without warning. A local thug got drunk, broke into their home, and tried to force himself on Little Father. Terrified, he clutched Chen Qing and hid. In the chaos, his father was stabbed to death, and blood gushed across Chen Qing’s world.

Little Father had never been strong. After her husband died, he became even more confused and helpless. When his husband’s family heard what had happened, they came, claiming to help. However, the thug’s powerful relatives offered hush money.

LIttle Father finally found a little resolve. He refused the money and insisted on going to the magistrate. However, his husband’s family beat her, took the payoff, and crushed what was left of her spirit.

LIttle Father and Chen Qing were thrown out. Perhaps the hardship was too much, or maybe it was guilt over her husband’s death. Little Father didn’t struggle for long. He ended his life in the river.

The events of that night brought back all those buried memories. In his nightmare, all Chen Qing could see was bright, flowing blood.

At dawn, Aunt Sun wanted to accompany Chen Qing as he went to ask Zhou Yuan what his plans were. But Chen Qing didn’t stir, so she went by herself.

Zhou Yuan was about to leave, planning to bring Chen Si and Meng Zhuzi to report to the authorities.

When the two men woke up, the first thing they saw was Zhou Yuan sitting beside them, still holding the blade.

Scared half to death, they were trussed up and begging for mercy. Zhou Yuan glanced at them and calmly said, “You came to my house because you were angry about losing your jobs and wanted revenge. You planned to steal. I caught you red-handed.”

Chen Si and Meng Zhuzi nodded frantically. “Yes, yes.”

“This has nothing to do with anyone else, right?” Zhou Yuan’s blade gleamed coldly as he swung it lazily.

“Yes, we were holding a grudge.”

“Good. Come on, we’ll see the officials.” Zhou Yuan untied them, leaving their hands bound, and herded them toward town.

Aunt Sun arrived just in time to see them. Zhou Yuan nodded to her, and she finally felt relieved. Still worried about Chen Qing, she hurried home.

When she entered the house, she went straight to Chen Qing’s room. His cheeks were flushed. She touched his forehead—it was burning hot. He was in the grip of a fierce fever.

He didn’t seem aware of anything. He kept crying out, “Father,” over and over as if he were trapped in another time.

Aunt Sun quickly recited Amitabha and held his hand. “Aqing—Aqing—don’t be scared. Mother’s here.”

Chen Qing’s eyelids fluttered. “Mother?”

“Yes, Mother’s here. Don’t be afraid.”

His voice was hoarse and full of sobs. “Mother…”

“All right, all right. Mother’s here. You’re safe now.”

As she listened to his heartbroken cries, she gently patted his shoulder. Soon, he drifted back into an exhausted sleep.

He slept the whole morning, but his fever didn’t break.

There was no village doctor in Luohe. When people got sick, they foraged for herbs. However, Aunt Sun and Chen Qing had always been healthy, so they had never stocked any medicine.

She was about to go into the mountains herself, but worried that something might happen while she was away. So, she went to find Aunt Liu and asked if she had any herbs.

Aunt Liu hurried home and returned with a handful of herbs. “This should help bring down a fever,” she said. What happened to Chen Qing? Why did he fall so suddenly?”

Of course, Aunt Sun couldn’t tell her what really happened. She only said that Chen Qing had caught a chill.

She rushed back, brewed the herbs, and cooked fragrant millet porridge and steamed egg custard. They almost never ate such fine food, but she hoped it would help him regain his strength.

At that moment, Zhou Yuan appeared at their gate, holding a small cloth bag. After hesitating for a moment, he stepped inside.

Aunt Sun was in the yard and opened the door for him. “What’s wrong?”

Zhou Yuan nodded and handed her the bag. “This is medicine from town.”

She stared at the bag in her hands, stunned. “What’s this for?”

His voice was calm. “When I first arrived at camp, there was an enemy raid. I was terrified and fainted. When I woke up, I had a fever. I figured he must have felt the same way.”

Aunt Sun’s eyes turned red. “Thank you. He’s still burning up, and nothing we’ve tried has worked.”

“He’s still feverish?”

She nodded, feeling as if Zhou Yuan’s arrival were an answer to a prayer. “I’ll pay you back for the medicine later. Let me go make it first.”

Zhou Yuan hesitated, then pulled out a silver coin. “This is compensation money from those two. Take it.”

“What?” She stared blankly at the coin, which felt cold and heavy in her hand. “How can I accept this?”

But Zhou Yuan had already disappeared.

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