The morning mist had yet to fully disperse, and the gravel on the mountain path was still wet with dew. Chen Wuya walked in front, his steps somewhat unsteady. One corner of the cloth wrapped around his right palm had already been soaked through with blood, yet he did not spare it another glance. Bai Zhi followed half a step behind him, her sword returned to its sheath, her shoulders trembling faintly as though she were holding something invisible down.
Figures clustered beneath the old locust tree at the village entrance.
Before they could draw near, someone recognized them. One shout rang out, followed by a second, then a third. The entire village seemed to jolt awake from sleep. Elders hurried forward on their canes, women peered out from behind their doors with children in their arms, and several barefoot youths leaped down from the eaves and rushed straight toward them.
"It's them! They really came back!"
"The monster's dead! That cold wind vanished in the middle of the night!"
The crowd surged forward, encircling them layer upon layer. Some held coarse earthen bowls filled with freshly warmed rice wine; some carried bamboo baskets loaded with steamed sweet potatoes and cured meat. One old woman shakily offered a pair of newly sewn cloth shoes, saying they were to keep their "life-saving benefactors'" feet warm.
Chen Wuya stopped, a faint frown creasing his brow. He wanted to retreat, but the crowd pressed around him and pushed him forward. Bai Zhi gently laid a hand on his arm, her voice soft. "Don't hide. Let them thank you, just this once."
She accepted the first bowl of wine and raised it above her head. Her voice was cool yet gentle. "Your safety is the finest repayment." With that, she tilted her head back