Qi Shan's gaze swept over the eleven corpses one by one.
He pondered for a long while, but couldn't find anything suspicious.
In the end, he gave up thinking and went straight to the answer.
"Who's missing?"
"A man." After answering, Shen Tang added a few details. "A man about seven feet four inches tall."
"A man about seven feet four inches tall?"
Qi Shan murmured the words, and a flash of Spiritual Light suddenly crossed his mind.
He knew who Shen Tang meant!
"That's right. There is indeed someone missing."
That man might still be alive!
Qi Shan fixed his gaze on the hands of the eleven corpses.
All their hands were rough and dark, covered in calluses. Even the old woman in silk had hands worn by years of labor. But among all these corpses, there wasn't a single pair of hands accustomed to holding a brush. Writing for years would deform the knuckles, with the degree of deformation depending on the age at which one began practicing and how long one had been writing. None of these corpses' hands showed such signs.
Yet the side room they had just been in contained several bookshelves, and before the leaky window stood a large and a small writing desk. The bamboo slips on the desks were for teaching children to read. If A Yan was the child receiving lessons, then where was his teacher now?
Of course, this alone wasn't enough to prove anything. The tutor might have taught the child during the day and gone home at night. But the bandit who had opened the door for them earlier possessed a Martial Spirit and was wearing an ill-fitting brown scholar's robe. That was interesting.
The likeliest explanation was that the robe didn't belong to the bandit, but to its owner—the teacher who had been tutoring the child.
Qi Shan said, "And then? What good does finding him do?"
"At least we'll learn what happened," Shen Tang said.
Qi Shan couldn't help laughing, and reminded Shen Tang, "Does Young Master Shen remember who you are right now? Never mind that this has nothing to do with you. Even if you are involved, getting caught up in it now could mean that once the investigation comes your way, you'll sink into the sea of mud and never return. Seeing injustice on the road and drawing your sword to help, sticking your nose into every little thing—that's how wandering knights and gallant heroes behave."
Shen Tang: "..."
It wasn't pleasant to hear, but it was the truth.
She ought to keep her head down right now, not go looking for trouble.
They had searched the entire estate, and aside from the two of them, there were no other survivors. With no clues to follow, Shen Tang had no choice but to put her rain cape back on and don her Bamboo Hat. She and Qi Shan returned to Qian Family Village. Through the curtain of rain, they saw the village head waiting at the entrance, as if expecting someone. As it happened, he spotted the two of them too and hurried over. "You two are finally back—"
Shen Tang said regretfully, "We still couldn't find—"
But the village head said, "A Yan's been found."
Shen Tang and Qi Shan were both surprised. "Found?"
Qi Shan asked, "Where is he?"
Shen Tang also asked, "Where did he run off to?"
The village head was delighted that A Yan was safe. Seeing how concerned these two strangers were only made his smile wider.
He had waited at the entrance specifically to tell them the good news when they returned. "A Yan was called out by his teacher earlier. The gentleman said he was taking him away to seek relatives in the north. Something came up, so they had to leave right away. They're already on their way..."
Shen Tang and Qi Shan exchanged looks.
"A Yan's teacher?"
"What was so urgent that they had to set off in the rain in the middle of the night?"
The village head had no idea, and he hadn't felt it was his place to ask too many questions.
Shen Tang asked, "Did A Yan leave with him willingly?"
The village head looked puzzled. "Young Master, what kind of question is that?"
Shen Tang gave an awkward little laugh.
The village head added, "Don't worry. The gentleman is a good man."
Even if he weren't a good man, he wouldn't be a kidnapper. Children weren't worth much these days, let alone a foolish boy with a brain disorder.
Why go to all that trouble to abduct him?
The downpour showed no sign of letting up.
A dozen or so miles from Qian Family Village.
A scarlet steed galloped through the forest, its whole body drenched by the rain.
A large figure and a small one rode on its back.
The older one had gray hair and looked quite elderly. He wore a moon-white scholar's robe, with a rain cape over it and a Bamboo Hat on his head. The smaller one had no rain gear at all and clung tightly to the reins with both hands.
Look closely: wasn't this child, lips pressed together and wearing a grave, solemn expression, A Yan—the boy everyone had been searching for all night?
"Hyah!"
The horse's hooves hit the ground, sending mud and water flying.
The scarlet steed burst from the forest like a ball of flame. Without the slightest hesitation, it leaped two zhang, cleared the rushing stream, and only then came to a stop.
"A Yan, th-that's enough..."
A weak voice came from behind him.
A Yan made the steed kneel, then supported the frail old man down with one hand. Blood mingled with rainwater beneath the man's feet. He sank weakly to the ground, his face pale with a bluish tinge, his right hand never leaving the area below his right ribs. Blood kept flowing from the wound.
The old man took several deep breaths, steadying himself and forcing down the agony of the wound. The veins on his forehead still throbbed uncontrollably.
A Yan looked at him sadly and reached up to straighten his crooked Bamboo Hat. The old man managed a smile more painful than a grimace. "It's all right. Luckily, it didn't go in too deep. I probably won't die..."
After a while, he saw A Yan fish out a piece of malt candy, about the size of a thumb, from his soaked pouch. It was smeared with blood and soaked through by the rain, more than half dissolved into a sticky mess. A Yan held it to the old man's lips. "Teacher, eat."
The old man smiled and didn't refuse.
The malt candy didn't taste very good.
He tore off a sleeve from his robe and pieced it together into a simple bandage to wrap around the wound. When he was done, he rose with A Yan's support and muttered to himself, "Let's find somewhere out of the rain first, then replenish our dry rations and head to Xiaocheng..."
A Yan murmured, "Xiaocheng?"
"That's right. We'll go there first, then decide what to do."
They had been lucky to escape the pursuit this time, but what about next time?
Luck wouldn't always be on his side. He had to make preparations early.
But he felt sorry for A Yan. The boy was so young, yet had to flee from place to place with an old man like him. He had originally planned to leave A Yan behind, but—the boy was growing up and had a mind of his own.
A Yan nodded. "Mm. We'll go to Xiaocheng!"
"Does A Yan know where Xiaocheng is?"
"No." A Yan pointed at the steed. "There's Big Red Horse."
The old man held back a laugh. "You're still too young. Big Red Horse can't last very long, and forcing it to keep going will put quite a strain on you... A Yan, put Big Red Horse away. I'm feeling a little better now. Let's find somewhere out of the rain and get through the night..."
A Yan nodded vigorously.
That night was exceptionally difficult.
When Shen Tang woke, the rain had stopped.
Outside, the earth was muddy, with puddles collected in the ruts and hollows. The village head had already packed up the provisions he'd prepared for the two of them.
While the sun was still low, Qi Shan decided they should set off early.
They traveled for an hour before coming across a roadside teahouse, so they decided to stop, rest their feet, and drink some tea.
A clatter of hooves approached from afar. There were about a hundred men, all dressed as soldiers, and several prison carts were being escorted at the rear of the column.
Qi Shan glanced at them out of the corner of his eye. "Don't be nervous, Young Master Shen. They aren't looking for you. This group should be soldiers from Geng Country."
Before you continue