Ren Miao glanced at the dazed Yan Xiaohan and casually changed the subject: “Where are you all from? Also visiting relatives and friends?”
Yan Xiaohan remained silent, and the Prince of Qi reluctantly said: “Yes, we’re from the capital, heading to Jingzhou to visit relatives.” He didn’t elaborate, and Ren Miao was tactful enough not to probe further, simply saying: “What a coincidence. We might meet in Jingzhou city later. I’ll treat you all to drinks then.”
Chapter 48: Light Heart | Fate, Marvelous Beyond Words
Qi Wang dizzily crawled up: “What, what’s going on…”
Yan Xiaohan looked suspiciously at the person behind them. Ren Miao held the fire poker in his left hand, frowning and moving his right hand, seemingly having strained his wrist from sudden exertion. Noticing Yan Xiaohan’s gaze, he looked up and smiled apologetically: “Sorry, I was in a hurry. Are you hurt?”
His fire poker had been next to Yan Xiaohan earlier. When both were at the doorway, Yan Xiaohan went to rescue Qi Wang, and Ren Miao went to grab the fire poker.
The distances were roughly equivalent, yet he managed to lever both Yan Xiaohan and Qi Wang away before the roof beam fell. His skills and reflexes were even faster than Yan Xiaohan’s, so why could Yan Xiaohan easily snatch his bag when he first entered?
Either he suddenly erupted in a critical moment, or… he was playing possum.
The statue was smashed into pieces. Ren Miao walked over and poked at the fragments with the fire poker, saying: “The temple isn’t safe. Who knows what might happen next…” He remembered his ominous prediction and swallowed the rest of his words, saying, “Forget it, let’s go out.”
Yan Xiaohan silently helped Qi Wang out.
After they left, the thunder gradually subsided, and the dense clouds dispersed. Everyone looked up at the sky, confused and bewildered, with an inexplicable reverence. Some even knelt down and silently recited Buddhist scriptures.
Qi Wang remained calm, straightened his clothes, and bowed deeply to Ren Miao: “Thank you, noble hero, for saving us.”
Ren Miao leaned on the fire poker, pulled his bamboo hat over his head, and laughed casually: “It’s nothing. If you hadn’t sheltered me back then, this wouldn’t have happened… Fate is mysterious, who can predict these things?”
Yan Xiaohan asked: “You’re leaving?
Ren Miao went to lead his horse: “The rain stopped, the temple is destroyed. Am I supposed to wait for another round of heavenly lightning? He nimbly mounted his horse, cupped his hands to everyone, and said cheerfully: “Everyone, farewell. We’ll meet again in Jingzhou City!”
Then he rode away without looking back.
Qi Wang sighed: “What a strange encounter.”
Yan Xiaohan subtly narrowed his right eye, staring at the distant, slender retreating figure, feeling that this matter was not yet over.
Early in the morning, the village chief and a lean young man walked out from behind the house, saying: “…Guangping and the others won’t wait until the fifteenth. We’ll do it tonight. Tell the women to mix some medicine into the food and knock them out. Drag them outside tomorrow, just as long as they don’t cause trouble.”
Yan Xiaohan understood that these people were planning to drug them, but he didn’t understand what the “ritual” was. It seemed to be something only villagers were qualified to participate in.
What did “won’t wait until the fifteenth” mean?
After the two men walked away, Yan Xiaohan leaped down from the roof, landing as softly as a cat. As he stood up and was about to slip away unnoticed, he suddenly stopped and turned back, meeting a pair of black eyes at the end of the long corridor.
The ancestral hall was already gloomy, and the person was hiding behind a corridor pillar, revealing only a pair of eyes as black as ink, staring directly at him without a word.
In an instant, a chill ran down Yan Xiaohan’s spine, and cold sweat broke out immediately.
He steadied his steps and tried to remain calm as he met the gaze. His first thought was to kill and silence the witness to avoid complications.
He kept one hand behind his back, holding a small knife. Just then, the person suddenly darted out from behind the pillar, gave him a final look, and ran away with heavy footsteps—it was actually just a very young child.
With Yan Xiaohan’s skills, killing the child would have been easy if he wanted to. However, his almost non-existent sense of compassion stirred, and the knife in his hand was ultimately not thrown.
They say that after starting a family, those who commit many evil deeds become more restrained. Yan Xiaohan had never experienced this before, but now he truly felt another force restraining his killing intent.
If Fu Shen were actually present, he would certainly have first chopped the child unconscious with a hand strike, then slapped him awake.
Being caught doing something bad, even if not killing, one must absolutely seal their mouth – there’s no such thing as truly letting someone go.
Yan Xiaohan returned to their lodging, woke Qi Wang, and warned them not to touch any food or water from the villagers, instructing them to leave for Kuang Feng County after noon.
The group busied themselves with hitching wagons and packing luggage. Yan Xiaohan bid farewell to the village chief under the pretext of urgently needing to travel, leaving behind some silver. The village chief, who had some initial doubts, forgot everything upon seeing the money and readily agreed.
Yan Xiaohan left with the caravan, and once they were out of the Xishan Village area, he had Qi Wang and the others go ahead while he quietly returned to the forest outside the village.
He remembered that Ren Miao lived in the courtyard next to his, and that person could be awakened by the slightest footstep. It didn’t make sense that they had been noisily preparing to leave, yet he hadn’t heard anything or shown his face.
Ren Miao had once saved his life, and Yan Xiaohan felt indebted. He should help him if possible.
As dusk fell and evening approached, sparse lights appeared in the village. Yan Xiaohan, using the twilight as cover, slipped into the village’s ancestral hall following the morning’s path.
The village chief and clan elders gathered outside the ancestral hall. In the courtyard, three decorated carts adorned with fresh flowers carried people in white mourning clothes. Yan Xiaohan couldn’t make out their faces or determine if they were alive or dead. He heard an elder say, “Everything is prepared. It’s time to set out.”
Several young men pushed the carts, carrying white paper lanterns, as they slowly walked out. The scene resembled a funeral procession and appeared eerily desolate in the fading twilight.
Yan Xiaohan wanted to follow them to investigate but noticed the mute child from earlier, silently mouthing words towards the eaves where he had hidden that morning.
Realizing the child was a mute, Yan Xiaohan saw him looking bewildered, repeatedly mouthing “Are you there?”
Perhaps his morning’s compassion had not entirely faded; Yan Xiaohan felt the child meant no harm. Stepping out from his hiding place, he asked, “Are you looking for me?”
The child turned, pale as a ghost. Seeing Yan Xiaohan, he urgently gestured for him to follow. They wound through several turns, arriving at a courtyard behind the ancestral hall.
The child led him to a house, pointing at the door, indicating Yan Xiaohan should enter. When asked if he would enter, the child shook his head, showing bruises on his arm and mimicking a beating gesture.
Yan Xiaohan understood this was likely a secret place in the village where ordinary people were forbidden entry, explaining the child’s bruises.
He nodded, saying, “Thank you.”
The child stepped back, and Yan Xiaohan gently pushed open the wooden door and entered.
