Chapter 333: About to Die Again

Pan Yun: "What's his name? Where is he now?"

Master Wu: "Are these your last two questions?"

Pan Yun grinned at him. "No, this is one and a half questions. His name and the previous question are the same. You've got so many laborers—without names, how do I know which one you mean?"

Master Wu, unable to argue, muttered: "He said his name is A Da. He has no household registration. I didn't ask in detail. Now…"

He glanced at the sun's position. "He's probably still herding cattle."

Pan Yun: "Have you offended him? Especially these past two days?"

"Offended him? He's just a lowly laborer—what's there to offend me about? If anyone offended anyone, it was him offending me!"

"Good," Pan Yun nodded. "I understand. Where does he herd cattle?"

If he hadn't offended Chang Mingwei, there'd be no way in hell.

One of the laborers immediately said: "I know! He came back early today—he's probably changing the straw in the cowshed now…"

"Where's the cowshed?"

One laborer pointed casually; Pan Yun grabbed Master Wu and sprinted toward the cowshed.

The laborers behind shouted: "Young Daoist Priest, we answered your questions—any reward?"

Pan Yun flicked his sleeve; a string of copper coins flew out and landed with a *pam* in the laborer's arms. "One string. Divide it among yourselves according to merit."

The laborers pressing down the silage immediately cheered, dropped their work, and swarmed the man to split the coins.

The two laborers who answered the questions were generous, grinning so wide their eyes vanished, calling out: "Everyone gets a share! Everyone gets a share…"

Master Wu's cries were drowned in their laughter and shouts.

But even if they heard, they didn't care.

The two young Daoist Priests clearly meant no harm.

Master Wu was dragged by Pan Yun sprinting toward the cowshed.

The cowshed was empty—only cows tore at bundles of straw.

Master Wu cried out: "Who's feeding straw to the cows like this? This straw's meant to be chopped for pig feed! A Da—where's A Da?"

Pan Yun stood before the cowshed, thought a moment, then gripped him and asked: "Besides you, who's still at home? Who do you love most? Who do you spend the most time with?"

Master Wu wasn't stupid—if he were, he wouldn't have immediately suspected Pan Yun's trickery.

Recalling the wanted poster, Master Wu's knees buckled; he trembled, pointing a finger. "My—my wife. She's always trailing after me. Oh no—my son and daughter-in-law are away, but my grandchildren are home! My wife's playing with them now…"

Pan Yun shoved him toward Seeing Miao Zhen, then darted onto the roof like a cat, vanishing like a gust of wind. "Miao Zhen, don't let him out of your sight."

Seeing Miao Zhen replied, grabbed Master Wu, and ran after her.

Master Wu's limbs were weak; he stumbled as he was pulled along—but he stopped slacking off, actively pointing directions: "They're playing in the garden now."

In the countryside, even a landlord's garden was mostly fruit trees.

Madam Wu was picking persimmons with her grandson and granddaughter.

Persimmons still hanging on the tree, not fully soft, would fall when lightly tapped with a pole; a cloth sack below caught them without bruising.

Of course, the two children couldn't do that—they just played, so persimmons often fell to the ground, but they were delighted.

Seeing they were sweating, Madam Wu pulled out a handkerchief to wipe their brows, smiling: "When you're older, you'll learn to climb trees—pick them straight off. That leaves no marks."

The five-year-old girl looked up. "Grandma, can I climb trees too?"

"Of course. Your brother's old enough to start now. When he does, you'll learn with him."

The boy couldn't wait—he hugged the tree and stepped up, but slipped after only two steps.

Madam Wu chuckled, guiding him: "Tomorrow I'll have Zhu Zi teach you—he's good at climbing. Last time I saw him zip up to the tree at the village's end and steal bird eggs."

She added: "I'm teaching you to climb trees so you'll have somewhere to hide if danger comes."

The two children thought it fun and agreed at once. Just as the three were enjoying themselves, a shadow fell over them.

Madam Wu looked up and saw the young man standing beside her. Her heart jolted; she straightened, silently pulling her grandchildren behind her, smiling warmly: "It's A Da. Have you eaten?"

The young man's gaze dropped to the two small heads peeking from behind her. Expressionless, he said: "Not yet."

Madam Wu immediately said: "Then go eat. I told the kitchen to make extra today. It's almost time for the laborers' meal—you can be first."

The young man kept one hand at his side, the other behind his back. He raised his head and stared coldly at Madam Wu. "Your last meal?"

Madam Wu stiffened, gripping her grandchildren's arms tightly, slowly backing away, still smiling: "What nonsense—you're not leaving. How could this be your last meal? A Da, Master Wu speaks without thinking—he just said it last night. He won't drive you away."

The young man stared strangely at Madam Wu. Seeing she'd backed three or five steps, he stepped forward. "I'm obedient, hardworking, and work for free. I just talk less. I'm curious—how did you know something was wrong?"

Madam Wu pushed the children behind her, face pale. "I don't know what you mean…"

"That stupid Wu isn't here—you can speak plainly. No need for games," the young man suddenly drew his right hand from behind his back—a sickle gleamed coldly in the sunset. "But it doesn't matter. I don't want your excuses. He'll soon join you. You can discuss it all together underground."

Madam Wu saw the sickle, spun around, shoved the children hard, and screamed: "Chengge! Take your sister and run!"

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The seven-year-old boy, terrified, burst into loud sobs, grabbed his sister, and turned to flee.

The young man swung the sickle at Madam Wu's throat. As she shoved the children, she stumbled and fell—just avoiding the blow.

The blade missed. The young man didn't care. He glanced at the fleeing children, ignored them, and stepped forward, raising the sickle again toward Madam Wu…

A whistle of air— a tile flew fast, struck his wrist with a *pam*, and the sickle clattered to the ground. His right wrist bent unnaturally; a *crack* echoed—bone broken.

The young man froze. He didn't cry out. Didn't turn to see who attacked. He lunged straight for Madam Wu, half-sitting on the ground.

Just as he was about to fall atop her and choke her, a figure flashed in—a leg shot out. The young man flew backward, smashed through an apricot tree, and rolled to the ground.

Pan Yun stood beside Madam Wu, slowly lowered his foot, reached out to help her up, then walked toward the struggling young man.

The young man, hands braced, back arched, trying to rise, saw a pair of cloth shoes before him. He stopped, followed the shoes upward to the face.

Seeing a young Daoist Priest, he spat twice, blood flecking his lips. He wiped his mouth. "Where'd this meddling dog Daoist come from?"

Pan Yun smirked. "One hundred taels. Hello. I'm here to collect you."

The young man stiffened.

Pan Yun snapped open the wanted poster, studied his facial features, then nodded: "Chang Mingwei—it really is you. This isn't a trivial matter. One hundred taels for whoever takes him. And as a man as vicious as you, even without the reward, everyone has the right to kill you."

Saying this, Pan Yun reached out to grab him, but the young man suddenly stood and charged at her.

Pan Yun immediately retracted her hand and kicked out hard with her foot.

A chest kick sent him flying—this time he soared over two stunned children and crashed onto the ground behind them with a thud.

Pan Yun sighed, activated her lightness skill, and glided gracefully over the two children, landing again before the young man. She shook her head: "Why do you insist on this? Want another two?"

It would also give her a chance to practice her leg techniques.

The young man struggled to rise from the ground.

With a thud, he flew backward again, landing not far from Madam Wu. She shrieked and scrambled back more than ten steps, pressing herself against the small door.

Pan Yun slowly lowered her leg, her figure flickering back to the young man's side. She spoke to the motionless, seemingly dead man: "One more time. I think you can hold on a little longer. Get up. Come on!"

The young man strained to push himself up with his arms, but fell twice.

Seeing this, Pan Yun stepped closer and used her toe to hook him, trying to give him a boost.

The young man suddenly raised his hand and hurled a handful of dust toward Pan Yun. She lifted her arm, blocking the dust with her sleeve, then delivered another chest kick that sent him flying.

Pan Yun landed, flicked her sleeve, and the dust settled. The young man slammed against the door with a crack, startling Master Wu, who was sprinting toward them—he collapsed onto the ground in fright.

This time, the young man lay utterly still. Seeing Miao Zhen stepped forward, turned him over, and said: "Little Master, he's fainted. He… he doesn't seem to have much time left."

(End of Chapter)