A Hearty Meal for Everyone

The child hesitated for a moment. "I know Mr. Hong. He told us not to be afraid." "Hong Chenglüe?" "He lives right down Elm Alley. His front door is the only one without a blessing posted on it." This news caught He Lingchuan off guard. "You mean he lived here in Bailu Town all along?" The boy nodded. "What does he do for a living?" "Teaches at the village school." The boy took the second piece of candy and popped it into his mouth. "My dad said we don't have money, so we couldn't send me to Mr. Hong." A bloodstained general had retired into seclusion in this small town just to be a humble schoolteacher? The boy reached toward Lingguang's hand for another sweet. Having eaten the candy too fast, he let out two hiccups in a row. Lingguang suddenly tilted his head. Just then, a man rounded the corner of the alley. Seeing the child speaking with He Lingchuan, his face drained of color, and he rushed over to scoop up the boy. "What are you doing?!" "The supply convoy was ambushed, and we're looking for clues." He Lingchuan held out his hand, an ingot of broken silver resting in his palm. "This is compensation." The bit of silver reflected in the man's eyes, gleaming. But the greed on his face vanished in a flash, instantly replaced by a vigorous shake of his head. "I hid at home as soon as I heard the fighting! I don't know a thing!" "Oh?" He Lingchuan asked with curiosity. "Hong Chenglüe didn't say anything to you?" At the mention of that name, the corner of the man's mouth twitched. "No!" He Lingchuan exhaled and abruptly snatched the child from his grasp! The man yelled, "What are you d—" Before the word could leave his mouth, a faint glint flashed, and the silver ingot was shoved into his mouth, choking off the rest of his sentence. Only then did the boy realize what had happened. Just as he was about to throw a fit, He Lingchuan flicked his temple, and he went limp. The man had just spat out the silver when He Lingchuan laid the child on the ground, clamped a hand around the man's neck, and shoved him against the wall. "Refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit?" He Lingchuan was taller than him, and the choke lifted the man's feet clean off the ground. "Answer honestly, and you'll walk away unharmed with money in your pocket. Dare to lie, and both of you will end up dead. Understand?" Unable to breathe or break free from the grip, the man nodded frantically. He Lingchuan released him and demanded, "Your son said Hong Chenglüe lives right here in Bailu Town. When did he move here? What did he usually do? What happened over the past few days? Speak!" The man clutched his throat and coughed violently several times. "He and his wife moved to Bailu Town three years ago. They were both decent folk. I don't know what they did before, but Mr. Hong opened a school in town. You know how poor this place is—when people can barely feed themselves, who can study? So there were hardly two kids in his school, and he couldn't charge much. Mr. Hong also worked at the rice shop at the end of the street. He could carry seven sacks of rice at once—he has tremendous strength! Sometimes he took odd jobs as a day laborer to support his household. Lately, the fires of war in the north have spread south. Two of the prominent families in our town fled, and Mr. Hong was left with no students at all." "A couple?" He Lingchuan caught the key detail. "What about his wife?" "His wife is named A-Jin. She's paralyzed. In their first year here, she could still manage a couple of steps supporting herself against the wall, but later she became completely bedridden. Mr. Hong was always buying medicine for her; their house smelled of medicine all year round!" "How did she become paralyzed?" "Word was there were complications giving birth to a son. The baby didn't make it, and she was ruined, too." "If he was a schoolteacher, how did he turn into a bandit?" "I have no idea. Out of nowhere, several constables turned up dead inside his house. By the time the authorities discovered it, the couple was gone. The magistrates searched and questioned everyone, but no one knew anything." He Lingchuan handed over another piece of broken silver. The previous piece, after being clawed out of his throat, had already been quietly tucked away by the man. Taking one ingot was taking a bribe, and taking two was no different. The townsman's lips loosened considerably. "Come to think of it, though, I remember something: just before Mr. Hong vanished, the patrol officer dealt with Liu Yalin and two others on charges of stealing military grain. That boy was once Mr. Hong's student; he studied with him for nearly half a year." "Stealing military grain?" He Lingchuan's expression shifted. That made sense—calculating back, a supply detachment had indeed passed through Bailu Town a few days ago. "How were they punished for such a charge?" "Executed on the spot, with no need to submit a report to superiors." The townsman shuddered. "I thought a beheading would be enough, but the patrol officer made the executioner sever Liu Yalin's limbs first before cutting off his head." He Lingchuan's eyes shifted. "Where is this patrol officer now?" "I-I don't know." Nor did he care; it would be best if that man never showed his face again. He didn't speak those last thoughts aloud, but He Lingchuan read them clearly in his eyes. "When Hong Chenglüe led men back into town later, slaughtered the soldiers, and raided the grain, did he speak to you?" "N-no..." The townsman instinctively wanted to deny it, but catching the sudden, chilling sharpness in He Lingchuan's gaze, he hastily changed his tune. "Th-there was nothing we could do while they were killing soldiers, so we just hid. Later, when the commotion outside died down, those Xunzhou men rounded us up house by house. We were shocked to see Mr... Mr. Hong. But he told us not to panic, saying they would leave shortly and wouldn't harm us." "Just like that?" He Lingchuan chuckled. This bowdlerized version sounded entirely off. "If they were going to leave, they could have just left. Why gather everyone together to tell you?" "Th-they still killed people in town—two prominent families on the east side of town, both surnamed Liu. One was in the grain and oil trade, and the other ran a pawnshop. Mr. Hong said those two households colluded with the authorities to prey upon the locals, so he... he executed them to vent anger on our behalf." "He was that good to you?" Did this fellow not realize he spoke smoothly when telling the truth and stammered whenever he lied? "Mr. Hong said it was for the sake of having been fellow townsfolk." Just then, figures flickered at the mouth of the alley. It turned out to be Maotao and Shan Youjun returning. Maotao reported to He Lingchuan, "I went to the flatbread shop to ask questions. The guy kneading dough feigned total ignorance at first. Later, when I saw no one was looking, I gave him a taste of pain, and only then did he spill that after Hong Chenglüe drove off and slaughtered the soldiers last night, he distributed some grain to them. I was wondering how a fellow dressed in tatters who looked ready to collapse at a stiff breeze could have two full sacks of fine grain hidden under his counter!" Shan Youjun added, "The Xunzhou men assembled the townsfolk in the clearing at the entrance of town last night. I went to check it out: there are traces of stones piled up to support cauldrons, and unburnt branches and charcoal are still on the ground." "Cauldrons?" He Lingchuan turned back to the townsman. "Did Hong Chenglüe treat you to a meal, too?" "N-no!" The townsman shook his head so hard it nearly fell off. "Whatever they ate had nothing to do with us!" Lingguang the medicine ape, who had been perched on He Lingchuan's shoulder the whole time, suddenly piped up, "When that child hiccuped earlier, there was a sour, gamey stench. His belly is slightly bloated. Likely he went without meat for too long and suddenly gorged on a large amount of food—especially meat—causing severe indigestion." "Gorged on meat?" He Lingchuan glanced at the sleeping boy. An eerie thought surfaced in his mind. Could it be...? "You said earlier that Hong Chenglüe and the Xunzhou men brought the two Liu families to the clearing and killed them. What happened next?" He Lingchuan stared at him. "Where are their corpses?" The townsman turned deathly pale, stammering and unable to form words. Shan Youjun grabbed him by the collar, a short blade appearing from nowhere, its tip leveled right at the man's eye. "What did you people have with your rice for supper last night? Speak!" "We were forced into it! They said the Lius had preyed upon the town for years, treating us like fish and meat, so it was only right they became our meat! So... so they forced every single one of us to eat!" "How could I dare?" The man actually burst into tears with a wail. "I only ate a tiny bite, and I vomited it right back up!" His child hadn't known any better. Smelling the aroma of meat, he had wolfed it down, and those Xunzhou men had been vicious enough to give the boy as much as he wanted. He Lingchuan looked at him. "Did both Liu families have grudges with Hong Chenglüe?" "Pr-probably, yes." The townsman thought for a moment. "The Liu family that ran the pawnshop gave terribly low payouts, and even if you scraped together enough to redeem your items, sometimes you couldn't get them back. And plenty of other vile things... They weren't good people." "It seems Hong Chenglüe suffered plenty of abuse from them, too." He Lingchuan frowned. "Why would a figure of his caliber swallow his pride and endure such humiliation in this backwater town?" The sheer absurdity felt as if He Lingchuan had condescended to work as a lowly odd-job laborer in the household of Liu Baobao, the Blackwater City merchant, and stayed for years on end. How could that be possible? "I don't know!" Shan Youjun released him. He Lingchuan tossed the man another piece of silver. "Keep your mouth shut—at least until we leave town." Next, the four hurried toward Hong Chenglüe's residence. Along the way, everything they saw was run-down and dilapidated. Most of the townsfolk were sallow and emaciated, their gazes cold. Even when facing Xiazhou soldiers like He Lingchuan, they showed only thinly veiled wariness and disgust. Even without the Xunzhou men running rampant, this place was impoverished enough. Passing by the entrance of town, He Lingchuan spotted the traces Shan Youjun had mentioned—stones piled into makeshift hearths—as well as an elevated wooden platform raised on scaffolding. Between the planks, dried blood remained, blackened by time, yet with He Lingchuan's sharp sense of smell, he could still catch the metallic reek of blood. In places like this, such platforms were typically used for public executions to serve as a warning. He Lingchuan suddenly remembered that Hong Chenglüe's student had been beheaded right here on charges of stealing military grain. Yet barely a few days later, his teacher had targeted military grain as well—and not through stealthy theft, but outright robbery. Why did Hong Chenglüe distribute grain to the townsfolk? Aside from winning over people's hearts, was there perhaps a shred of pity? After all, he had lived here himself and suffered through its hardships. Then, by forcing the townsfolk to eat meat—the flesh of the town's two wealthiest families—was he venting his own anger, or helping the townsfolk vent theirs? Pondering these questions, He Lingchuan soon located Hong Chenglüe's home. The alley's ground was uneven, the cracks in the walls thick with mildew and moss. The alley was not long, but it housed at least a dozen families. "Looks like this is the one." With a creak, He Lingchuan pushed open the door. Inside lay only a small courtyard and two low, single-story rooms. It was barely larger than his wood-grade house in Panlong City, though the courtyard at least spanned about a dozen square meters. In the courtyard, several wooden racks lay overturned beside two empty jars, and blackened bloodstains marked the ground. The house was small, and after a quick lap, the four regrouped. Maotao sighed in wonder: "Mr. Hong was truly dirt-poor." A grand general of the Beijia Kingdom had lived here in seclusion, yet the place could only be described as four bare walls. The bedroom held only a single bed and a low cabinet. Shan Youjun remarked, "The kitchen is picked clean, as if washed out—not even a pot, bowl, ladle, or basin left behind. Yet the hearth shows signs of having been used for years. That isn't normal."