Zeng Mu headed back, arriving once more at the fence outside Yao Chun's shabby thatched hut.
The independent hunters who had been keeping watch were nowhere to be seen. Presumably, they had heard the good news that Yao Chun had recovered and, reassured, gone back to their own business. Perhaps they were hunting outside the city now, hoping to bring back a few rabbits, pheasants, and fresh fish, have their wives cook them, and deliver the meals themselves to celebrate his recovery.
What would that fellow be doing in there now? Zeng Mu wondered. After two seconds of thought, he reached a conclusion. Probably drinking and feasting to celebrate.
Only when he stepped inside and found the room empty did he realize he had guessed wrong.
The shabby hut was truly tiny. Zeng Mu could hardly imagine how someone of Yao Chun's standing could bear sleeping in such cramped quarters. There was almost nothing inside, either; calling it a bare-walled home would not have been far off. He could not even find basic necessities such as a washbasin or a foot basin in the little room, and the space beneath the rear eaves was equally empty. He could not help beginning to admire Yao Chun. Living so simply, without relying on material possessions, required a state of mind beyond the reach of ordinary people.
"Where did that fellow go?" Unable to find him inside or out, Zeng Mu could only wonder whether he really had gone to some tavern or brothel to drink, feast, and indulge himself.
He sat on a chopping block in the yard to wait. Before long, he spotted someone approaching along the edge of the street. The backlight obscured the man's face, but his build alone was enough to identify him as Yao Chun.
He carried