Her ponytail flew in the morning breeze as she hurried after Tang San, her steps quick and uneven, until she disappeared around the bend in the dirt road.
Ma Hongjun stood where he was. The pain in his shoulder had faded, but a tight, indescribable pressure weighed on his chest.
He gritted his teeth and lowered his voice.
"It's not like I knew Tang San had anything to do with Holy Soul Village! Besides, why take it out on me? If you've got what it takes, go find whoever destroyed Holy Soul Village and get your revenge!"
By the end, his voice held a hint of anger born of embarrassment.
Xiao Wu had scolded him in front of everyone, and he couldn't save face. He even started calling Tang San by his name instead of "Third Brother."
"Enough, Fatty. Keep it down."
Dai Mubai had stood quietly at the side until now. Only then did he speak at an unhurried pace.
He stepped forward and gave Ma Hongjun a firm pat on the back. It wasn't hard, but it carried an unmistakable finality.
"You've been up all night. Go back and get some sleep."
Dai Mubai tipped his head toward the dormitory, his tone so calm it was as if nothing had happened.
"But—"
Ma Hongjun started to say something else.
"Go back and get some sleep."
Dai Mubai repeated himself. This time, his gaze lingered on Ma Hongjun's face for a moment.
Ma Hongjun opened his mouth, but in the end, he said nothing. He lowered his head sulkily and walked toward the dormitory.
Xiao Wu chased Tang San for nearly half a mile along the dirt road outside the village before she finally spotted him.
He had stopped.
Beneath an old, crooked tree by the roadside.
With his back to her, Tang San braced one hand against the trunk, his shoulder trembling faintly.
The morning breeze swept in from behind him, blowing his hair in disarray against his cheeks and making his robes snap in the wind.
He wasn't crying, but Xiao Wu could see his hand against the tree trunk. His five fingers were digging inch by inch into the bark, and flakes of it fell in a soft shower from between them.
"Third Brother."
Xiao Wu quickened her pace and called to him softly.
She stopped two steps behind Tang San, not daring to approach without warning.
Her breath was still a little ragged, her chest rising and falling gently, but her voice was quiet, as if she were afraid of startling him.
At the sound of her voice, Tang San's back stiffened noticeably.
He drew a deep breath and slowly turned around.
Tang San tried to tug the corners of his mouth into the calm, composed smile he usually wore, but the smile was so forced it twisted as if he were crying.
"Xiao Wu."
His voice was so hoarse that even he barely recognized it.
Seeing him like this, Xiao Wu felt as if something had given her heart a vicious tug.
She didn't say anything. She simply walked quickly over to his side.
She didn't ask where he was going or what he planned to do. She didn't even offer him any words of comfort.
She just stood to his left, shoulder to shoulder with him.
"Let me walk with you, Third Brother."
Xiao Wu tilted her head up to look at him. Sunlight danced in her bright, lively eyes.
"If there's anything you want to say, you can tell me."
Tang San's expression faltered.
He looked down at Xiao Wu's earnest face. Her clear eyes watched him without blinking, and there wasn't a trace of anything superfluous in them.
No sympathy, no pity. Only genuine concern and an unyielding resolve.
That gaze made the taut string in his heart, stretched tight all this way, suddenly loosen a little.
"Xiao Wu..."
He murmured her name, his voice hoarse, with a hint of emotion he could barely conceal.
On this dirt road that stretched beyond sight, at the moment he most needed someone at his side, Xiao Wu had come.
She hadn't asked where he was going or what he planned to do. She had simply walked quietly up beside him, just as she had countless times before.
Tang San fell silent for a while, then slowly spoke.
His voice was low, as if he were talking to himself.
"I'm worried about my father."
Xiao Wu looked up at him and spoke softly.
"When we returned to Holy Soul Village three years ago, your father had already left, hadn't he? We only found the letter he left behind. So his life may not be in danger."
Tang San didn't answer right away.
He knew Xiao Wu had a point.
Three years ago, he and Xiao Wu had hurried back to Holy Soul Village. All he found there was an empty smithy and a letter left beneath the anvil.
His father had kept the letter brief.
He had left, and told Tang San to go out into the world on his own and not look for him.
Back then, Tang San hadn't understood. He had even felt resentful, unable to understand why his father had disappeared without a word.
But now, strangely enough, he felt a little relieved.
Because his father had left Holy Soul Village three years ago, he was probably still alive.
But—
"I hope everything is as you say, Xiao Wu."
Tang San forced himself to rally a little and gave Xiao Wu a somewhat more natural smile.
But the smile didn't last long.
His lips slowly pressed together, and the light in his eyes dimmed once more.
"But... Grandpa Jack and the others..."
His voice sank. It took a great effort to force every word out of his chest.
Faces surfaced uncontrollably before his eyes.
Old Jack, the village chief, leaning on his cane as he basked in the sun at the village entrance. The auntie next door knocking at his door with a bowl of hot porridge. The bare-bottomed children of the village crowding around the entrance to his smithy to watch the commotion.
They weren't family, nor were they friends. But when he was very, very young, those villagers had shared their porridge with him when they had some, and given him an old garment to wear when they had one to spare.
Perhaps they hadn't been especially fond of the taciturn blacksmith's son, but they had looked after him, in whatever small ways they could manage despite having little themselves.
And now, every one of them was dead.
They had all been buried beneath the ruins of the village, razed to the ground.
Tang San's fists clenched bit by bit.
His nails dug deeper into his palms than before. Warm liquid seeped between his fingers, but he couldn't feel the pain.
His breathing grew ragged. It was as if a fire burned in his chest, searing his organs with pain.
"Whoever destroyed Holy Soul Village—"
He raised his bloodshot eyes and gazed toward the village, as if he could see through hundreds of miles to the ruins, to the butcher who had done this.
The morning light fell across his face, making his youthful features unnaturally pale. But the fire burning in his eyes blazed fiercer than ever.
"I'll find them."
His voice wasn't loud, but it held the force of an ironclad vow.
This wasn't an angry threat spoken on impulse, nor the reckless oath of a hot-blooded youth. It was an unshakable resolve that came from deep within his bones.
"And make them pay with their life."
Tang San clenched his fists, the veins standing out on the backs of his hands.