Disaster Descends

Lin Shouyi had been gone for four days since he last spoke, and there had been no news of him since.

For the first two days, Wang could still force herself to stay calm, muttering that he might just be busy with work at the mine. By the third day, she could no longer sit still; she spent the entire day leaning against the door frame, peering out, unable to move a single stitch of the needlework in her hands.

Li Tui, however, went about everything as usual.

He practiced his cultivation in the early morning and reviewed his books in the afternoon, his routine so disciplined it bordered on cold. He saw Wang's anxiety, but he never once offered a word of comfort.

At noon on the fourth day, the sun was scorching.

Suddenly, the sound of chaotic hoofbeats erupted at the village entrance, mixed with coarse shouts that sent the local chickens and dogs into a frenzy.

The sewing basket in Wang's hands hit the ground with a "clatter." She scrambled to her feet, but before she could even reach the courtyard gate, the wooden door was kicked open with a loud "bang!"

Several servants in dark blue short-sleeved tunics and with fleshy, menacing faces stormed in, swords hanging at their waists. Following closely behind them was the steward of the Zhou Family, dressed in silk robes and a square cap, along with a shifty-eyed clerk from the Loose Cultivator Bureau.

"You..." Wang's face turned deathly pale.

"Get lost!" A servant shoved her aside roughly.

Steward Zhou unfolded a document, his voice sharp and shrill:

"Listen well, Wang, wife of Lin Shouyi! Your husband has committed theft while in a position of trust and has now fled in fear of punishment! His family is to be held collectively responsible! Bind them! Search the place!"

Wang felt as if she had been struck by lightning, then lunged forward: "It's a frame-up! My husband..."

"Hmph!"

Two servants stepped forward and bound her with hemp rope. Wang struggled, only to be struck across the face with a backhand slap. Her lip split, blood and tears mingling as she collapsed to the ground, able only to whimper.

The other servants began ransacking the house. Chests were kicked over, bedding torn apart, earthenware jars smashed, and rice bins overturned. Spiritual rice and common rice alike were mixed with dirt and trampled under dirty boots.

The neighbors peeked from behind their doors, but no one dared to step forward.

Li Tui walked out just as the main room was being kicked open.

He didn't make a sound; he simply stood quietly in the shadows by the inner room's doorway, watching it all. His frame was thin, but his spine was straight.

The clerk from the Loose Cultivator Bureau swept his gaze over the wreckage and finally landed on Li Tui. Feeling a shred of pity, he leaned toward Steward Zhou and whispered, "Steward Zhou, this boy is still young, and he is Lin Shouyi's only son. Do you think..."

However, after Steward Zhou looked Li Tui over, he cut the clerk off.

"Young?" he scoffed through his nose. "A son paying his father's debts is only natural! Drag him to the mines to atone for his sins. Besides, looking at him, who's to say he isn't deep-minded and hasn't been in on this from the start?"

He pointed sharply at Li Tui: "Lock him up too! If he dares to resist, treat him as an accomplice and kill him on the spot!"

Steel blades were drawn, their cold light menacing.

Wang struggled to lift her head, screaming hoarsely: "No! You can't take my Qingzi! He's only ten! Take me instead! Take me!"

Her cries were useless.

As the blade tip neared, Li Tui's eyelids drooped slightly.

He avoided the blinding glare of the steel, masking the cold calculation deep within his eyes. To everyone else, he was just a terrified, half-grown child.

When a servant reached out to grab his arm, Li Tui "woke up" and went along with the force.

He didn't struggle, nor did he make a sound; he simply lowered his head and walked out. His steps were steady, and he didn't even spare a glance at his mother struggling on the ground.

The next moment, he continued to walk forward.

As he was shoved onto the horse-drawn carriage, Li Tui looked back one last time.

The courtyard gate hung askew, the wreckage of the house visible through the opening. Wang was being dragged away, her hair disheveled and face covered in blood, still screaming hoarsely.

Through the cracks in the neighbors' doors, countless eyes peered out, only to quickly dart away.

Li Tui withdrew his gaze.

The carriage curtain fell, and darkness descended. The wheels turned, grinding over the dirt road.

Inside the carriage, the servants' heavy breathing mixed with the smell of sweat. A steel sword lay across their knees, the blade reflecting the sliver of light filtering through the gap in the curtain.

Li Tui sat huddled in the corner, his eyelids lowered.

His hand, hidden in his sleeve, slowly clenched into a fist.

His fingernails dug into his palms, the sharp pain clear. Yet, this pain only made his thoughts colder.

Father missing, home raided, mother bound, self imprisoned.

This was no accident.

It was a trap.

A trap set by the Zhou Family, with the Loose Cultivator Bureau merely going through the motions, while they, the Lin Family, were nothing more than livestock waiting to be slaughtered from the very beginning.

Li Tui closed his eyes.

Without power, one is nothing but fish on a chopping block.

So, for now, he could only sit in this jolting carriage, being hauled toward an unknown cage.

Li Tui slowly opened his eyes.

In the dark carriage, deep within those pupils, a point of cold light lay dormant like a spark.

No rush.

He still had time.

He still had this life.

The stinging pain in his palm persisted. Li Tui, however, slowly loosened his fingers. His fingertips were stained with faint traces of blood, hidden within the darkness of his sleeves where no one could see.

He raised his head, his gaze passing through the gap in the curtain to watch the blurred shadows of trees flitting by outside.

His eyes were terrifyingly calm, like a deep pool, without a single ripple on the surface.

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