Borrowing the Fox's Might from the Tiger

No one blamed Pan Yun, nor did anyone blame the mountain god.

The villagers had taken it in stride. Old Man Wang took Pan Yun's hand and smiled through his wrinkled face. "The mountain god has already sheltered us. We were captured and brought here, yet Fei Yin has kept watch over us with such care. This is the return for our daily worship.

"If we hope for too much, if our wishes weigh too heavily—there are so many people beneath heaven, yet only so many immortals in the skies. And there is only one mountain god of Mount Sanqing. How could everything possibly go as one wishes?"

Upon hearing this, the circle around Pan Yun gradually loosened. Everyone dispersed and returned to their places, sitting down and quietly wiping away their tears, unwilling to make things any harder for Pan Yun.

Pan Yun opened her mouth, but for a long while, she could not speak.

Old Man Wang squeezed her hand hard, then pushed her toward the door. "You came. You saw us. That is enough. Go back now, go back..."

Pan Yun swept her gaze around and asked softly, "Where is Wang Erliang?"

Old Man Wang's hand pushing her froze. His back was already bent, but now his body seemed to grow even heavier.

Wang Xiaojing's mother choked out from beside them, "Erliang... killed himself."

Someone nearby said in a low voice, "He did it so he would not implicate his family."

"That child was such a pity. He had already mastered carpentry and even arranged a marriage. Who could have known he would be drafted as a courier soldier for the Express Post Station?"

Listening to the discussions rising all around her, Pan Yun suppressed the bitterness in her heart and called out, "How many children are