Chapter 117: This Is Farewell

The man who had entered bore a strong resemblance to Mu Shulan's father. He looked three or four years older than Mr. Mu, but was far sturdier, his face weathered by wind and frost. If Mr. Mu resembled a scholar, this man was a martial practitioner through and through. He wore a black, waist-cinched outer robe with a pure white collar guard—a stark contrast. Zhao Jin noticed even more the blade and sachet hanging at his waist. The blade was about four feet long, its spine over a finger thick. A blade like that was no ornament; it was a lethal weapon. Such a blade was not much lighter than Chen Sheng's five-foot long blade, carrying immense power whether slashing, thrusting, or stabbing, and it was no easy weapon to wield.

But what drew Zhao Jin's attention even more was the sachet. It hung from the waist by a yellow cord, and embroidered upon it in gold thread was a lotus flower.

That appearance, the lotus sachet—his identity was nearly beyond doubt. Just as Zhao Jin thought this, the girl beside him had already risen in tears, dashing straight over and throwing herself into the man's arms, crying out, "Second Uncle..."

Just as expected. Zhao Jin let out a breath and turned to look at his father, only to find his father, Zhao Zhentang, with a dark expression already settling over his face.

Zhao Jin's tension had not actually dissipated. He still harbored a trace of wariness toward Mu Shulan's second uncle. There was nothing questionable about the middle-aged man's identity, but Zhao Jin sensed in the girl's uncle a temperament similar to his own second uncle, Zhao Zhenxing.

This temperament was only found in fierce warriors who had long weathered battlefields and taken many lives. Before such a man, Zhao Jin was instinctively on guard, his hand drifting near the hilt of his blade the entire time.

The girl's uncle gently patted her back, his cold, severe expression softening somewhat. He said gently, "Don't be afraid, child. Uncle is taking you home."

Mu Shulan's wailing slowly subsided into sobs. Upon hearing these words, the girl turned her head from his embrace to look at Zhao Jin.

"Constable Zhao, my ill-fated niece has troubled you these days," the girl's uncle said, raising his head and thanking him politely.

Zhao Zhentang, however, did not acknowledge the pleasantry. He merely stared at him, frowning, and said, "You people certainly have nerve. After what you did outside the city, you still dare to come in."

"What you did"—Zhao Jin reacted instantly. His father was referring to the major case of fifty lives lost at Zhouge Village. Mu Shulan's father had been killed then, and the Smelling Incense Sect members in the city had all fled. Now that Mu Shulan's second uncle had appeared, besides taking Mu Shulan back, he surely intended to avenge his brother.

And looking again at the girl's uncle's appearance and bearing, matters like killing and taking lives were surely commonplace to him.

To Zhao Zhentang's words, the girl's uncle did not answer directly. He only said in a deep voice, "It was merely a radical purification. Those foolish fanatics, deluded by heretical doctrines, deserved their deaths a thousand times over."

These words were tantamount to directly admitting he was responsible for the Zhouge Village incident—and right in front of constables and officers of the law. He was utterly unconcerned, of course.

After saying this, he patted Mu Shulan, signaling the girl to step aside, then bowed deeply to Zhao Zhentang with hands clasped. Solemnly, he said, "Constable Zhao, for handling the aftermath that day, for taking in and caring for Little Lan, and Young Master Zhao, for braving danger to kill the villains and rescue Little Lan—for this debt of kindness from the Zhao family, this Mu offers his thanks here. This kindness, the Mu family and our entire side will remember in our hearts and will surely repay in the future."

Straightening up, the girl's uncle took two gold cakes from his bosom and held them out, saying, "Little Lan has incurred considerable expenses in your home these days. Please accept this money."

Those two gold cakes were worth roughly seventy to eighty taels of silver. Even if the girl stayed at the Zhao home for several years, she likely wouldn't use that much. No one expected the Mu family to be so extravagantly generous the moment they made a move.

Zhao Jin, however, was thinking more comprehensively. From the conversation just now, this man knew every detail of recent events like the back of his hand. He was this generous with money, and he possessed the ability to kill dozens outside the city. Everything pointed to the immense power of this Smelling Incense Sect.

Moreover, observing the man's conduct and bearing, he was clearly a superior figure accustomed to giving orders. Thinking again of the changes in Mr. Mu over the years, it seemed the Mu family held no low position within the Smelling Incense Sect.

Just as he was pondering this, Zhao Jin suddenly noticed Mu Shulan looking at him with mournful eyes. He immediately understood—the girl was about to leave his home, and leave Xuzhou as well. At this thought, Zhao Jin's heart was instantly filled with the sorrow of parting and reluctance to let go.

Seeing the gold cakes in the other man's hand, Zhao Zhentang's brow furrowed. Before he could speak, He Cuihua, who had been sitting there silent the whole time, spoke up. He Cuihua's voice was somewhat hoarse: "We don't want the money. I just have a few words to say to you. Little Lan is a good child. As her elders, you should think more for her sake. Raise her properly at home, teach her household management and needlework. When she comes of age, find her a good family to marry into. Don't let Little Lan walk your path. This child has lost both parents—don't let her suffer any mistreatment..."

He Cuihua rambled on, and by the end, she kept wiping the corners of her eyes with her hand. Mu Shulan could hold back no longer. With a loud wail, she burst into tears, ran over to He Cuihua, and hugged her, crying without end.

Zhao Jin sniffled. It was not his turn to speak yet. Over there, the girl's uncle watched his weeping niece, his expression growing complicated. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Please rest assured, everyone. Little Lan will absolutely not suffer the slightest grievance ever again..."

"If Little Lan's life is the slightest bit bad, I will definitely not let you off!" Zhao Jin suddenly blurted out.

At these words, the room fell silent. Everyone turned to look at Zhao Jin. A smile flickered across the girl's uncle's face as he said leisurely, "Young Master Zhao, you may rest assured."

Mu Shulan's face turned bright red. After saying those words, Zhao Jin's face also reddened; he felt his cheeks burning. Even Zhao Jin himself hadn't expected he would say something so impulsive and childish.

Zhao Jin coughed once and lowered his head, then couldn't help but raise his head to glance at the girl beside him. The young boy and girl's eyes met. Both their faces were fiercely red, and they couldn't help but lower their heads in unison.

Seeing this scene, Zhao Zhentang and He Cuihua revealed smiles, but their expressions immediately dimmed, and they sighed in disappointment.

"Little Lan, go with Second Uncle first. Say your farewells next time we come," the girl's second uncle said gently.

Who knew when that next time would be? Everyone present understood. He Cuihua held the girl's hand, rambling with reminders, which set both of them crying again.

The girl's second uncle urged her once more. Only then did Mu Shulan walk up to Zhao Jin. It had seemed she meant to bid farewell to each person in turn, but once the two drew close, they didn't know what to say. The girl lowered her head, kneading the hem of her clothes, unable to speak for a long time.

Zhao Zhentang sighed irritably, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked directly into the bedroom. The girl's second uncle also said nothing further. But after a moment of silence, Mu Shulan said quietly, "Brother Xiaojin, I..."

She stopped halfway through, not knowing what to say next. Zhao Jin raised his head, cleared his throat, and said, "Little Lan, you must take good care of yourself from now on."

The girl's tears flowed again. She merely nodded vigorously and, looking at Zhao Jin through her sobs, said, "Brother Xiaojin, you take care of yourself too."

After saying this, the girl followed her second uncle out of the house. Zhao Jin stood dazed in the room for a moment before following them out. They walked through the courtyard to the gate. Everyone remained silent. Mu Shulan looked back at Zhao Jin several times, but the night was too dark to make out the girl's expression.

"It's somewhat inconvenient. No need to see us off far." Zhao Jin had intended to escort them out, but Mu Shulan's second uncle declined with a smile.

With their Smelling Incense Sect identity and having killed so many outside the city, there were indeed many inconveniences. Zhao Jin stood at the courtyard gate, watching their silhouettes until they vanished at the street corner.

He closed the courtyard gate and returned inside. He saw his mother, He Cuihua, sitting dazed at the dinner table, wiping tears. Zhao Zhentang emerged from the bedroom again and said crossly, "I told you long ago not to let your imagination run wild. Little Lan is a good child, but she and Xiaojin aren't meant to walk the same path. Didn't you see she never once said she wanted to stay just now? Her mind is too burdened. Enough, enough. I'm going on duty. You two be alert and careful tonight."

Zhao Jin's mood was also somewhat low. He asked casually, "Father, the city gates on all sides are already closed. How will they leave the city?"

The city gates closed before dark. Leaving the city now was impossible. If they couldn't leave, why were they in such a hurry to go?

"They're afraid of being followed. Besides, they have many connections on the waterways and rivers. They can get out through the water gate as well," Zhao Zhentang answered, then strode out the door with his blade at his side.

Zhao Jin nodded and sat back down at the dinner table. Just moments ago, Mu Shulan had been sitting right beside him. Looking at the still fairly sumptuous meal on the table, Zhao Jin suddenly found he had no appetite. He had thought he would handle this calmly—after all, he was an adult. But now Zhao Jin realized he might not be that mature. This girl had indeed left a mark on his heart.

"If I'd known, I would have arranged the betrothal for you two long ago, and there wouldn't be all this trouble. But you father and son, one said it wasn't suitable, the other said it was too early. Look now..." He Cuihua wiped her tears and began to ramble and complain.

Zhao Jin answered with a wry smile, "Mother, it really was too early. She's only twelve. And Mother, don't cry anymore. It's not like we'll never see her again. Let's eat first, or the food will get cold."

"Little Lan is definitely going back to her family home in Shandong this time. When she grows up, she'll marry and settle down there. What do you mean, see her again?" He Cuihua said crossly.

"It won't be that soon. If her family was always thinking of marrying her off, they would have arranged a match with our family long ago!" Zhao Jin analyzed quite thoroughly.

Zhao Jin's perspective was indeed different. In this era, many people spent their entire lives within a thirty-li radius of where they were born. He remembered that Mu Shulan's family was likely from Juye in Shandong, which was actually not very far from Xuzhou. Traveling via Weishan Lake and taking the land route near Jining, it was roughly a five- or six-day journey. But such a distance in this era was considered unimaginably far. To him, however, it was merely a little distant.

Seeing his mother He Cuihua in poor spirits, Zhao Jin simply changed the subject and asked, "Mother, Father just said those Smelling Incense Sect people are very resourceful on the water. Do you know what that's about?"

"I'm just a woman who tends the home. How would I know about that?" He Cuihua retorted, but her mood had finally mostly settled. She served herself a bowl of soup and said, "I've heard people say that among those who work the boats on the canal, and those who make their living off the canal on the shore, quite a few burn incense."

Zhao Jin nodded, but inwardly he was quite surprised. He hadn't expected the Smelling Incense Sect to have such considerable influence on the canal.