"Faster... Run faster..."
His ragged panting echoed through the woods.
Fan Qingyang tore through the trees at a speed utterly at odds with his fat, bulky frame.
Though he didn't know whether panic had clouded his mind or the curtain of rain had obscured his vision, he took a wrong turn several times along the way, stumbling and crawling back to the path.
At least he hadn't lost his way completely.
When he finally burst out of the woods and spotted the outlines of the three small cabins up ahead, a smile of relief at having escaped disaster finally spread across his fleshy face.
"Thank goodness... Once I'm back inside, with so many people there, Jiang Feng wouldn't dare keep trying to kill me.
"Otherwise, he'll never have a place to hide once we get back to the Medicine Hall!"
As the cabins drew nearer, his smile grew wider.
Just then, a bolt of lightning split the sky, banishing the darkness for an instant and illuminating the scene before the cabins in a flash of brilliant white.
Fan Qingyang stopped dead. Sitting on the steps in front of the wooden cabin was a man.
His upper body was bare and smeared with blood. Rainwater streamed down the hard ridges of his muscles.
He held a broad-bladed, thick-backed Ghost-Head Blade, wiping it again and again with the torrential rain.
Hearing footsteps, he slowly raised his head, revealing a young, handsome face.
"Fan Qingyang, you finally came back."
Jiang Feng's voice was calm, as though he were greeting an old friend he hadn't seen in years. "I was afraid you'd get lost in the woods and die somewhere without anyone knowing. If I couldn't butcher you, you fat pig, with my own hands, I wouldn't know how to answer to him."
The killing intent wrapped in those calm words was so cold it made one's spine crawl.
Fan Qingyang didn't quite understand what Jiang Feng meant by "answer to him," but he felt the naked murderous intent all too clearly.
"J-Jiang Feng, calm down!"
His legs buckled, and he nearly collapsed on the spot. His voice shook like a leaf.
"What I said in the woods just now—that was all because that thief surnamed Sun forced me to say it!
"I never did any of those things!
"I admit I wronged you before, but I was forced by the circumstances. Xue Zhao and Wu Han made me do it..."
As he spoke, Fan Qingyang burst into loud sobs right in front of Jiang Feng, tears and snot mixing with the rain and smearing his face.
"Jiang Feng, please spare me this once. I really know I was wrong... Have you forgotten what we used to mean to each other?
"We can still be good friends like we were before!
"I... I'll kowtow to you. Please, let me go."
As he spoke, Fan Qingyang really did kneel and bang his head against the ground before Jiang Feng.
Jiang Feng didn't answer. A gentle smile on his face, he approached Fan Qingyang step by step, blade in hand.
Fan Qingyang tried to retreat, but his legs had gone limp as two lumps of mud and refused to obey him.
He collapsed and scrambled away on all fours, his fat body writhing pitifully through the mud, but he couldn't move any faster.
Jiang Feng lunged forward and stamped hard on his chest, pinning him firmly to the ground.
Despair flooded Fan Qingyang's eyes. Warmth spread beneath him, and he wet and soiled himself. Like a madman, he screamed toward the cabins:
"Help! Somebody, help! Jiang Feng's trying to kill me—"
But the rain poured down, and the wind howled. His hoarse cries were swallowed whole by the downpour, without even an echo escaping.
Jiang Feng looked down at him. The smile on his face slowly faded, a murderous gleam flashing in his eyes, though his voice remained calm.
"Since you know you were wrong, go down there and apologize to him in person."
The Ghost-Head Blade rose high, then swept down in a streak of icy silver.
Meanwhile, on the second floor of the wooden cabin.
A curled-up figure on the bed by the window suddenly opened his eyes and sat bolt upright.
He instinctively glanced outside. The rain was pouring, and the darkness was so thick he couldn't see a thing.
He froze for a moment, then reached over and nudged the companion sharing his bed, lowering his voice.
"Wake up, wake up... I think I just heard Boss Fan's voice. It sounded like he was calling for help."
The apprentice beside him had been fast asleep. Roused by the insistent nudging, he opened his eyes, annoyance written all over his face, and grumbled, "How come I didn't hear anything? You must've been dreaming. Fan Qingyang's always the one bullying other people. Who could bully him?"
He rolled over and scratched his greasy hair again, his voice thick with irritation at being woken.
"Besides, have you forgotten what Boss Fan told us? No one's allowed out of this room before dawn. If you dare take a single step outside, you might not live to see tomorrow."
The man who'd woken him shrank back at the warning and didn't dare say another word. He pulled the blanket over his head, turned away, and went back to sleep.
The next morning, the downpour showed no sign of letting up. The air was even colder than the day before.
"Achoo! Damn it, what's with this crazy weather? It was sweltering yesterday, and now it's freezing!"
A skinny apprentice from the Medicine Hall pushed open the wooden door, hunched his shoulders, and glanced up at the dark, heavy clouds, muttering curses. "We've still got to go into the mountains to gather herbs today. With rain this heavy, it's going to be miserable."
A tall, thin young man inside the cabin chuckled. "Maybe Boss Fan will take one look at the weather and show us some mercy, let us take the day off. When we were at the Medicine Hall, we never got days off like this."
His words sparked a burst of cheerful laughter in the cabin, and the mood turned light and easy.
Everyone chatted and joked, completely unaware of the terrible thing that had happened the night before.
As they were talking, a young man of about sixteen or seventeen stepped out of the cabin. He straightened his collar, wrinkled his nose, and sniffed hard. "Why do I smell something fishy? Can you smell it?"
The people around him didn't take it seriously. Without even turning around, they laughed and teased him. "Isn't it always like this when it rains? That's just the earthy smell. Don't make a fuss."
As they talked, a skinny young man with a sharp chin and beady eyes came out of the cabin.
His name was Ma Liu, and he was the closest of all the men to Fan Qingyang. He'd been born with a sneaky, shifty look and usually followed Fan Qingyang around, peeking this way and that like a rat stealing oil.
"All right, you guys, quit dawdling here. Hurry to the storeroom. Boss Fan's probably waiting for us already."
Ma Liu called to them, then led the way into the downpour. The group splashed after him toward the storeroom.
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