Return Without Sound

Wei Dayong frowned, but ultimately said nothing, only motioning for Wang Quan to follow. Dragging four soul-deprived blood tax prisoners with soft, trembling legs, Wang Quan and Wei Dayong finally saw the low yet silent silhouette of Anping County's city wall at the darkest, coldest moment just before dawn.

The city gates were tightly shut. With difficulty, Wei Dayong pulled out a specially made whistle and placed it against his lips, blowing three short and one long, hoarse and grating sound. A torch flickered atop the city wall, and after a long while, the heavy sounds of a windlass turning and a gate latch lifting drifted down. A narrow side door just wide enough for a single person creaked open a crack.

The gate guard was bleary-eyed and utterly impatient. But when the torchlight illuminated the two blood-drenched figures outside supporting one another—reeking of a pungent mixture of blood and burning stench—along with the four nearly inhuman prisoners behind them, the impatience on the guard's face instantly turned into astonishment and a trace of hard-to-detect disgust. He asked nothing at all, merely stepping aside and waving for them to hurry inside, as if they carried some unclean plague.

They passed through the dark gateway tunnel and stepped back into the city. The deepest darkness before dawn enveloped the streets; the houses on either side stood like silent behemoths, with only sporadic lanterns swaying in the far distance. The flagstone road beneath their feet was cold and hard, a sharp contrast to the muddy paths outside the city, yet Wang Quan felt not a shred of warmth upon returning. Every single step tugged at the piercing pain in his chest and abdomen; every breath carried the rust-like stench of blood and a fatigue that sank deep into his marrow.

The garrison's heavy iron-clad wooden gate, under the grayish-white light before dawn, resembled a giant maw waiting to devour someone. The on-duty guards recognized Wei Dayong, their gazes sweeping over Wang Quan and the prisoners trailing behind him. Without a word, they silently pulled the gate open.

The courtyard was completely empty. Of yesterday's four squads, only their own had returned, and it was left with just two men. The other squads had perhaps returned long ago, or perhaps they would never come back at all. Damp morning mist permeated the courtyard, carrying an unshakeable moldy stench and a faint smell of blood.

They handed the four prisoners over to the handymen who had rushed over at the news. The handyman wore a blank expression, stringing them together with a rope like cattle and dragging them off toward the direction of the dark prison cells. From beginning to end, no one spared Wang Quan and his companion a second glance, nor did anyone ask a single question about casualties, as though all of this were completely normal.

"To Commander Chen's." Wei Dayong's voice was even hoarser, squeezed out almost entirely from his throat. Although the wound on his chest had been crudely bandaged, blood was still slowly seeping through, and his complexion looked frighteningly pale in the morning light.

Wang Quan nodded and supported him as they walked toward the stone house belonging to the scarred man, Commander Chen.

The door of the stone house was ajar, spilling out a dim, yellowish glow. Commander Chen had not yet slept—or rather, a man like him seemed to require very little sleep. He sat behind a rough wooden table, by the light of an oil lamp, polishing his long, slender standard-issue saber with meticulous movements, as though it were the most precious treasure in the world. The blade reflected the flickering lamplight, casting a cold sheen across his sallow face and the gruesome scar upon it.

Hearing footsteps, he lifted his eyelids, his gaze like a cold blade that first lingered for a fleeting moment on Wei Dayong's pale face and blood-stained chest before sweeping over Wang Quan, the newcomer. Wang Quan was likewise covered in blood and filth—some of his own, but much more from the pig demon. His complexion was ashen from blood loss and exhaustion, but a pair of eyes burned astonishingly bright in the lamplight, churning within them an uncalmed killing intent, the hollowness of surviving a disaster, and something much deeper.

"Chief." Wei Dayong released the hand Wang Quan used to support him, managed to stand straight, and cupped his fists in salute, a motion that tugged at his wound and made the corner of his mouth twitch.

Commander Chen said nothing, merely putting down the soft cloth used for wiping the saber and gesturing with his eyes for him to speak.

Wei Dayong took a deep breath, appearing to want to straighten his spine, but the sharp pain caused him to sway slightly instead. In a dry voice, he began to recount: "...We reached the place and paid the tax according to the rules. At first, the pig demon and the bull demon made no unusual moves; they accepted the men and prepared to let us leave."

He paused, as if recalling the events or gathering his strength: "But later... because an accidental death occurred during the handover, leaving us short on numbers, the pig demon changed its mind and demanded we stay to fill the vacancy."

Absolute silence filled the stone house, broken only by the occasional popping crackle of the oil lamp's wick. Not a single expression appeared on Commander Chen's face, and even his scar seemed frozen in place.

Wei Dayong's Adam's apple bobbed as he continued, his voice lower and heavier, as if forced straight out of his chest cavity: "We refused, and the pig demon was about to resort to force, wanting to silence us. We... were driven to the point of having no other choice."

"And then?" Commander Chen finally spoke, his voice level and devoid of any emotional fluctuation, as though he were asking about a trivial matter that didn't concern him.

"And then..." Wei Dayong raised his head, a flash of something crossing his gaze—ruthlessness, lingering fear, or perhaps a trace of sorrow even he himself had not noticed. "We struck. The pig demon and the bull demon, we killed them both. We used up the Bone Dissolving Water, leaving no trace."

"You killed them both?" Commander Chen repeated, his gaze falling back onto Wang Quan and lingering longer this time. "Just the two of you?"

"Yes." Wei Dayong lowered his gaze. "My internal organs were injured, and several ribs were broken. He," he tilted his head to glance at Wang Quan, "broke several bones, and his internal injuries are not light either."

Commander Chen remained silent for a long time. The light of the oil lamp cast the three men's shadows against the rough stone wall, swaying erratically like ghosts. The air grew so stagnant it felt suffocating.

Wang Quan's hands, hanging at his sides, clenched involuntarily as his fingernails dug deeply into the tender flesh of his palms, producing a sharp, stinging pain that barely managed to suppress the rampaging, suffocating fury inside his chest. He watched Commander Chen's face, shifting between light and shadow under the oil lamp; upon it lay only the stillness of a deep pool, utterly devoid of even a single ripple. The news they had risked their lives to bring back, the blood on their bodies that had yet to dry, the mutilated corpses of their companions, and the fear and struggle of facing imminent death... inside this cold stone house, all of it seemed weightless, carrying no significance whatsoever.

It was stifling. Like soaked cotton stuffing crammed into his chest, heavy and carrying a scorching, burning humiliation with nowhere to vent. They had been sent out like pigs and sheep, picked over and threatened by monsters, and even expected to stay behind as makeweights. They had resisted, fought for their lives, slain the demons, and crawled back alive—and then what? Were they just supposed to complete an insignificant task, one that might even bring trouble, and await a dismissive, breezy disposal from those above?

Commander Chen's gaze finally lifted from the blade, landing on Wei Dayong's face before slowly shifting to Wang Quan's taut cheeks. There was no praise in that gaze, no concern, and not even much scrutiny—only a near-cruel tranquility.

"If the demons haven't noticed two are missing, or if they noticed but couldn't trace it back to you," Commander Chen's voice was not loud, yet every word was crystal clear, driving into the silent air, "then the garrison can act as though this matter never happened."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the injuries on the two men: "If they come looking and track it down, you will handle it yourselves and clean up after it. I cannot step forward."

Wang Quan's heart felt as though it had been clenched by an invisible hand and abruptly plunged into an ice cellar.

Commander Chen seemed to see right through the shock in his eyes and the flash of lingering anger, his tone remaining flat yet carrying an unquestionable, bedrock-like indifference: "Your lives are in your own hands. The most I can do is that when they come knocking—if the evidence is conclusive and threatens the garrison or Anping County—cut off the tail to save the body." He leaned forward slightly, the oil lamp casting an even deeper shadow over his face and making the scar appear all the more menacing: "Sacrifice the two of you to trade for the temporary peace of the thousands of commoners in the city. You can curse me for being ruthless, for being cowardly, for treating the lives of my subordinates as worthless. But here, in the northern frontier, in Anping County..." He paused, a desolation of one who had seen through life and death seeping into his voice, "...a human life is the cheapest expendable resource there is. Out here, it's a muddled ledger, a transaction. The only difference is who dies first and who dies later; you get fed into it today, someone else tomorrow, and if you make a sound when you're tossed in, consider that you didn't die in vain. Most of the time, you're just like a stone thrown into a stews gutter, disappearing without a single ripple. That's fate—a wretched life. If you can trade it for something, it's your fortune; if you can't, you just have to swallow it."

He leaned back against the chair once more, picked up the polishing cloth, and resumed his icy demeanor: "If you want to live, tuck your tails between your legs and become more ruthless and stronger than the things that want to kill you. Otherwise, when you die, you'll just be another set of bones outside the city walls feeding wild dogs, and one less mouth eating food inside the city." His turbid pupils reflected no light from the oil lamp, holding only a bottomless well of exhaustion: "Remember, in this damn place, no one can save you. And no one can save me. We are all stuck in the same muddy quagmire; you reach out a hand, I reach out a hand, and in the end, it might just make both of us sink faster and die more thoroughly. There are only two roads: either accept your fate—accept this life no better than pigs and sheep, so that whenever you're dragged out to be chopped up and eaten, closing your eyes will at least feel like a relief—or..."

His voice dropped extremely low, yet it cut like a dull blade slicing flesh, chiseling word by word into their hearts.

"...accept that this world eats people, and force yourself to become better at eating than it is. You can live on your knees, but if you want to stand while you live, or even just die looking somewhat like a human being... the only thing you can rely on is the blade in your hand."

"Your own Buddha, you must worship yourself. Your own way out of this, you must carve out with your own life. That is the greatest rule of the northern frontier, and the only way to survive in Anping County."

"Dismissed if there's nothing else. Go to the dispensary to collect two doses of trauma medicine and one portion of Bone-Setting Paste. During the day you can patrol the city, and tonight you resume normal patrols."

Wei Dayong's lips quivered, but ultimately he said nothing, only cupping his fists with extra force. Because the movement tugged at his wounds, his body swayed imperceptibly. "Understood, Chief."

Wang Quan followed suit, his movements stiff. He supported Wei Dayong as they stumbled out of that suffocating stone house.