"Even if you couldn't hear clearly, you must've caught the gist, right?"
The servant sitting in the corner could not help but cut in. "Was it a man or a woman? What did it say?"
The old guard frowned, seeming to recall that indistinct sound. Only after a long while did he speak:
"That was what made it so eerie! Later, he told us the voice sounded all thick and sticky,
wrapped in the snowy wind. At first listen, it was like someone talking with something in their mouth, broken and intermittent,
as if... as if it kept repeating two words. It sounded like 'Qi Third Brother'?"
"Qi Third Brother? Couldn't that have been someone in your escort party?"
"Exactly. Uncle Zhang, don't go scaring us. Everyone knows you made one escort run, and you've been telling that story for half your life!"
At those words, everyone familiar with Uncle Zhang laughed. This little tale was practically hanging from his lips.
But the old guard did not laugh. He waited until the laughter died down before saying gravely:
"That was what Wang thought too. He figured he was starving himself senseless and had mistaken the wind,
but the snow in the latter half of the night was like knives. The wind lashed his face until it hurt like hell. Even wrapped in two padded jackets, he was still shivering. How could he have had the mind to ponder it carefully?
Curled up beside the fire, he fell asleep again."
"And then? Did something really happen?"
Someone edged closer to the bonfire, as if they had suddenly begun to feel cold.
The old guard nodded, lowering his voice further:
"At daybreak the next morning, the escort chief called everyone up to get moving. When he counted heads, guess what happened?
Three