Chapter 197: A Sliver of Light

The yamen runner driving the cart was in his thirties. By custom, Zhao Jin should have called him uncle, but the runner didn't dare presume. He addressed Zhao Jin as "Master Jin" at every turn, unfailingly deferential.

As the sky grew steadily brighter, houses multiplied along both sides of the road, and smoke began curling up from a few kitchen chimneys. It was still the first month of the year and the sun had yet to rise, but some people always had to be up and about their toil. The runner driving the cart stopped the horse, told Zhao Jin and his companions to get down and scrub their faces with snow, and said he'd wait for them a while.

This was their morning wash. After yesterday's bloody battle and a night spent traveling, none of them had had a chance to clean up. Now they could use the snow to scrub the bloodstains from their faces. The wound on Zhao Jin's face had already scabbed over, so tidying up was quick work, but there was nothing to be done about the blood on their clothes — they simply had to ignore it.

Before long, the two runners came hurrying back with a cloth bundle and an earthenware pot. Both were giving off steam. They placed the bundle and pot on the cart and said with a smile, "We paid triple to buy up breakfast from a few households. Eat something hot in the cart, and we'll keep moving."

The two runners each had hot flatbread and dry rations in hand as well, eating as they drove. Hot soup and hot food settled in their stomachs, warming them through and leaving them in much better shape.

If these two runners hadn't come along, Zhao Jin felt he might not have managed these seemingly trivial but actually crucial matters so well.

"That up ahead is He Village. We'll drive right up to it. Master Jin, just say the word when we reach a suitable spot and we'll stop." Though the runners didn't know the full story, after witnessing yesterday's events they could guess the gist of it.

Zhao Jin and his companions still had bloodstains on their bodies and weapons lying beside them. Though the hour was still early, there were already people on the road. If they showed themselves, they would certainly draw attention. They could only huddle down and hide inside their fur-lined coats.

The two runners were tactful. After driving the cart in a half-circle, they stopped at the base of a wall. This spot offered some cover, so they didn't have to worry about being spotted by passersby on the road.

Zhao Jin and the others stood up in the cart and studied the top of the wall. They could climb over by stepping off the cart. Zhao Jin nodded to his companions, then said to the two runners, "Come find me at Fragrance Drifting Wine Shop tomorrow. I, Zhao, will reward you handsomely."

The two runners and cart drivers exchanged a glance, their faces flushing deep red with barely contained excitement. This young master's "handsome reward" was sure to be substantial.

Zhao Jin laid his spear across the top of the wall and was about to vault over when Liu Yong, beside him, grabbed hold of him. Liu Yong shook his head and said, "Big Brother, let me go first."

As they watched Liu Yong climb onto the wall, both runners said, "Take care, Master Jin."

"If this village still warrants my caution, then Cloud Mountain Temple has nothing to worry about in Xuzhou," Zhao Jin said. Over on the wall, Liu Yong waved a hand, then jumped down. Zhao Jin climbed up after him.

It was the eleventh day of the first month of the forty-fourth year of the Wanli reign. He Village was quiet. The boisterous crowd of outsiders who had been gathered there since before the new year had left the day before, and many of the household's hired guards had gone with them. The He family servants, who had been run ragged for nearly two months, could finally relax and properly enjoy the new year, even though the Lantern Festival was almost upon them.

The servants weren't the only ones relaxing. Their master, who had barely cracked a smile since the tenth month, had begun to unwind yesterday morning. At noon he had specifically instructed the kitchen to prepare a few of his favorite side dishes, and he had spent several dozen taels of silver to procure a fifteen-year-old virgin girl from the village to attend him. Unless some great happy event had occurred, Master He generally didn't indulge in such tastes.

He Weiyuan liked young girls. He could afford a Yangzhou courtesan, but girls trained in that fashion didn't suit his palate. He Weiyuan preferred to spend his silver buying some local tenant farmer's daughter from nearby. These girls knew nothing, yet they brimmed with vitality. With them, He Weiyuan felt he wasn't old either. The first time always let him go at it for a long while, and though the purchased virgin would weep and struggle, that only excited him more.

But he was getting on in years, after all. Once he was spent, he paid no mind to the girl's sniffling beside him and sank into a deep sleep.

That band of over a hundred men had ridden out before dawn. He Weiyuan had seen them off. He had promised a bounty of eight thousand taels, with three thousand paid in advance, and had separately pledged three thousand taels in bonuses to several of the leaders. This sum amounted to nearly seventy percent of his family fortune. Factoring in all the other expenses, his coffers were practically empty this time. Yet He Weiyuan didn't begrudge a single coin, because he knew that once the deed was done, he would gain double or even several times that amount in silver — and it would come in year after year.

He had plotted for two months and even roped in people from Cloud Mountain Temple. He Weiyuan also knew that once this matter was settled, he would in all likelihood offend certain people at the main altar. But he didn't care. With the gold mine that was Fragrance Drifting Wine Shop, it was all worth it.

The ambush party had set out first, and the man confirming that Zhao Jin had left the city had arrived later. Once he received that news, He Weiyuan was completely at ease. Over a hundred desperate cutthroats, six archers, and an ambush striking by surprise — this was a sure thing, a hundred times over.

And He Weiyuan had another calculation in mind. This affair had allowed him to establish ties with the mounted bandits of Shandong and Huai'an Prefecture. He could make use of them again next time.

With a huge sum of silver about to roll in and such formidable power now at his disposal, He Weiyuan's mind had wandered far and wide.

He had drunk wine and then enjoyed himself vigorously several times that night, so his morning sleep was especially pleasant. He didn't want to get up. Besides, the village had been in an uproar for nearly two months; now that it was finally quiet, he wanted to sleep in even more.

Precisely because it was so quiet, every sound was clearly audible. The roosters had already crowed. He Weiyuan stirred slightly awake. The girl beside him was fast asleep. Seeing the tear tracks on her face, He Weiyuan felt the urge to have one more go — an old man briefly reclaiming his youthful wildness.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside. He Weiyuan paid them no mind at first, but the footfalls were too regular — the pace unhurried, yet the interval between each step identical. And the footsteps were slowly growing louder.

Someone had entered the courtyard. He Weiyuan's brow furrowed. The small courtyard where his inner chambers were located was locked at night; servants were not permitted to enter.

He Weiyuan didn't want to get out of bed, but years of caution still made him roll over and sit up. Throwing on some clothes, he went into the sitting room. Inside, two men in fighting garb were bleary-eyed, clearly just awakened. They were looking toward the door, having apparently heard the footsteps as well.

No matter what He Weiyuan was doing, there were always guards in the adjacent room. These two were the strongest men under his command. Yesterday, everyone had been sent out in full force, but these two had been kept behind.

"Go take a look," He Weiyuan said in a low voice.

One guard nodded, rose, and went to open the door. He was seasoned and didn't pull it wide open. Instead, he drew the bolt and opened it just a crack to peer outside.

"Master needn't worry. What blind fool of a thief would dare come to He Village? It's probably some serv—"

Before he could finish, the footsteps outside grew urgent, as if someone was charging at speed toward the door, about to smash it open. The guard at the door hastily moved to retreat.

Swish! A sound rang out. He Weiyuan and the guard beside him blinked involuntarily — because a sliver of light had flashed through the doorway!

The retreating guard at the door froze mid-motion, then lost all control and toppled backward. Before he hit the ground, a heart-rending scream tore from his throat, and blood sprayed from his chest.

A massive wound had been opened from the guard's forehead down to his chest. Blood gushed forth. The door and the padded cotton curtain covering it had been split down the middle, and the light from outside streamed in.

"That was a blade strike..." The other guard didn't need to finish. He Weiyuan, too, saw the huge, burly figure standing in the doorway, gripping a long saber in both hands. That one slash had cleaved through the wooden door, the cotton curtain, and the guard. What terrifying power.

The words had barely left his mouth when the huge figure dodged to one side, and a human form shot straight in. The guard inside the room had already reacted, flipping his hand to grab the podao at his side, but the intruder was already upon him. Before the podao could be raised, the opponent's weapon had been driven viciously into his throat.

What kind of weapon was that? It looked like a spear broken in half. Such a direct, head-on charge, such a precise thrust — he must have had a skilled teacher, must have trained for years...

Blood spurted from the guard's throat. That was his final thought.

The footsteps at dawn, the sudden slaughter, that ferociously mighty cleaving slash, that lightning-swift thrust — He Weiyuan's drowsiness vanished utterly in that instant. He wanted to flee but had nowhere to go. He staggered back two steps and collapsed directly into the grand tutor's chair in the sitting room.

"Are you He Weiyuan?" asked the young man holding the half-spear.

The huge, burly figure with the saber outside also walked in. His face, too, was young — fifteen or sixteen years old. Both young men's faces were etched with exhaustion and weariness, and their clothes were covered in bloodstains.

"Ol— Old Master here is He Weiyuan. You..." He Weiyuan was stammering now. The worst possible scenario had already occurred to him, yet it still seemed utterly inconceivable.

The young man with the half-spear turned his head and nodded to the saber-wielding young man. He Weiyuan felt a chill rise from the pit of his stomach and hastily said, "Old Master's house is full of gold and silver, and there are several beautiful women. Take whatever you want, take it all. Old Master won't report—"

He didn't finish the sentence. The questioning young man drove the half-spear in his hand viciously into He Weiyuan's thigh, then pulled it out and stabbed it into his other thigh.

He Weiyuan had never suffered any real injury in his life. The sudden, searing pain was unbearable, and he let out a howling scream. Blood gushed out, and he collapsed directly to his knees.

The woman in the inner room was startled awake and began weeping in terror, but no one paid her any attention. The spear-wielding young man spoke again. His tone, one could tell, was very weary.

"I am Zhao Jin. He is Chen Sheng."

Hearing those two names, He Weiyuan was so stunned that he forgot the agony. His entire body shuddered, and he asked in shock, "You... you..."

How was this possible? A death trap, over a hundred skilled fighters surrounding a few wet-behind-the-ears brats — how could they have possibly escaped? And how did these brats have the nerve to sneak into He Village? How did they even know? Shock, disbelief, terror, and despair — all these emotions flooded He Weiyuan's heart.

Seeing the utterly incredulous look on He Weiyuan's face, Zhao Jin gave a cold laugh and said, "Squire He didn't expect the few of us to survive, let alone find our way into your village, did you?"