The ruthless bandits opened the large crates on the wagons, dumped out the sundry goods inside, and loaded the corpses in.
Even so, there were still twenty or thirty bodies that could not fit.
The surviving villagers stood in the open clearing, trembling like sick chickens. The bandits directed them to clean up the aftermath, having them shovel up the blood-soaked soil and gravel and toss it into the lake.
Less than half a quarter of an hour later, the clearing by the lakeside was spotless once more—save for the small mountain of corpses piled by the edge.
One of the bandits suddenly pointed toward the lake. "Someone's escaping!"
All eyes turned toward the water, where they indeed saw a man fleeing in a boat. He had likely sprinted down to the shore amid the chaos, concealed himself in the tall grass, and unmoored a skiff.
With the wind in its favor, the skiff rapidly pulled away from the shore.
On the bank, Zhu-shi bit her lip. She recognized the retreating figure as none other than her husband.
The man pulled hard at the sculls, rowing toward the center of the lake.
Just a bit farther and he would be safe. He wanted to reach the nearest town to report to the authorities and plead with the soldiers to slaughter every last one of these bastards!
Yet soon he heard laughter from the shore. Looking back, he saw the bandits pointing at him, entirely unbothered, laughing and joking among themselves.
Had these sons of bitches lost their minds?
Just a few breaths later, a sudden loud splash shattered the calm surface of the lake.
The boat overturned.
The man aboard was gone.
Zhu-shi clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. Her mother-in-law passed out cold on the spot.
After violent swaying, the skiff miraculously righted itself, yet it floated alone and completely empty.
Ripples lapped against the shore, one after another, then faded away.
In merely a dozen breaths, the lake was once again smooth as a mirror.
The villagers on the bank stood dumbfounded, having no idea what had just occurred.
The bandits walked over to the wooden pier at the water's edge, untied a dozen boats, and loaded the crates aboard. Then they rowed out to the center of the lake and sank the crates.
Though they also took to the water, they remained relaxed, chatting and laughing, and not a thing touched them.
Weighed down with corpses and heavy stones, the crates sank resolutely to the bottom.
As for the pile of bodies by the shore, the bandits hurled them all into the water.
Soon, the floating corpses vanished one after another, dragged beneath the surface as if by something lurking below, never to rise again.
A few ripples and strings of bubbles broke the surface before stillness returned.
By now, the bandits had seized all the children from each family, filling the air with wailing and crying.
The village chief slowly came around. The moment he opened his eyes, fright caught a knot of phlegm in his throat. The caravan leader patted him on the shoulder and said, "Cooperate, and you won't have to die. Understood?"
The village chief nodded hastily.
"Almost forgot to ask—do you have children under eleven in your family?"
The village chief nodded again.
The caravan leader chuckled. "Then my mind is at ease."
He coughed loudly twice, then beamed at the surviving villagers. "From now on, we are your family! As long as you play your parts well in this little act, you'll get to live, and you'll get your children back—living, breathing children, my dear family!"
Half an hour later, two bandits discovered Zhu-shi hiding inside the ancestral shrine and dragged her out.
***
"It will be dark soon. Don't tell me we'll have to spend the night in the wilderness?" Madam Ying lifted the bamboo blind of the carriage and gazed at the sky with deep worry.
Mountain scenery was beautiful, but it grew tedious after seeing too much of it. Having traveled all day through the muggy, damp mountains, all she wanted now was a hot bath.
"Hard to say," He Lingchuan replied, reclining opposite her with a soft cushion propped behind his waist. The carriage interior was cramped, and with his long limbs, finding a comfortable position was no easy feat. "I hear there are plenty of bear dens deep in these mountains. If we find the right hollow, we might even have roasted bear paw for dinner tonight."
Madam Ying frowned in disapproval. "You have your own horse. Why are you still lounging around in here?"
"Second Brother has a horse too, yet here he is, isn't he?" Riding was jarring, and after long hours in the saddle, it chafed the inner thighs. Naturally, He Lingchuan preferred the comfort of the carriage.
He Yue gave a light cough. "The mountain roads were muddy, which slowed the carriages down. The guide said Xianling Village lies just ahead—we should arrive in fifteen to thirty minutes at most."
He Lingchuan sounded mildly disappointed. "Guess we won't be eating roasted bear paw tonight after all."
He Yue smiled. "Eldest Brother is welcome to hunt in the mountains on his own."
He Lingchuan grumbled under his breath, propping his head on one hand as he watched the darkening sky outside.
For several days now, he had been unable to return in his dreams to the Panlong Wasteland. By day, it was nothing but travel and more travel, thoroughly boring him.
It was as though the broken saber knew his impatience and deliberately refused to grant his wish.
Beside him, Madam Ying and He Yue were chatting about trivial matters—everything they planned to do once they reached Xiazhou.
Madam Ying favored the warm east and hoped to purchase a grand manor to her liking in Dunyi City, the capital of Xiazhou, decorate it lavishly, hire seventeen or eighteen servants... and so on and so forth.
He Lingchuan suddenly shushed them, cutting off their conversation. "Be quiet!"
"Why are you trying to frighten us?" Madam Ying glared at him. With over three hundred guards outside, she had nothing to fear.
"Something's wrong," He Lingchuan said solemnly. "At dusk, weary birds should be returning to their nests. Why are the woods so quiet?"
At eventide, when birds returned to roost, the woods should have been a chorus of chirps and chatter from branch to branch—easily as loud as neighbors bickering in the streets, amplified several times over.
Since when had the forest they passed through fallen dead silent?
Only the clatter of hooves and the rumble of carriage wheels broke the stillness—a rhythmic noise that only made the silence more unnerving. Madam Ying swallowed hard. Just as He Yue was about to speak, Zeng Feixiong's broad face suddenly appeared outside the carriage window.
"Madam, Young Masters, Xianling Village is just ahead."
Madam Ying leaned out to look. Ahead lay a vast lake shimmering like a mirror, and along its shore, the dim outlines of cottages could be seen.
*Haven't we arrived? What nonsense was that about something being wrong?*
She breathed a sigh of relief, realizing she had nearly been spooked by her mischief-making eldest son.
***
Passing through wheat fields that had been half-harvested, the party soon arrived outside the village, where all the riders dismounted.
The He father and sons stepped forward alongside Zeng Feixiong, and people from the village soon came out to receive them.
He Chunhua produced his State Token to announce his identity and explained their request for lodging, while their steward, Lao Mo, brought out silver for the stay. The State Token verified his official status, and the village chief readily agreed. The burly man beside the chief introduced himself as the chief's nephew, surnamed Lu, named Lu Han.
Beaming with smiles, Lu Han explained that there were not enough houses in the village, so the soldiers could stay the night at the threshing ground and granaries behind the settlement.
As for the official and female family members, they would naturally stay in the village cottages.
By now, darkness had completely fallen. Warm light shone through the paper windows of every home, painting a scene that appeared as warm and ordinary as any rural village could be.
The He family, Zeng Feixiong, and their core entourage settled into the best cottages. The villagers served them meals, yet appeared somewhat timid and skittish, their eyes darting nervously. When Madam Ying kindly tried to make small talk with the woman of the house, the woman answered only one word for every three asked, looking visibly strained.
Her husband clicked his tongue sharply and scolded her. "Is that any way to speak to honored guests, you ignorant woman?" He turned to Madam Ying with an apologetic smile. "She's never set foot outside these mountains and has always been this timid and crude. Please don't take offense, my lady!"
Madam Ying waved it off, gifted them two small ingots of broken silver, and turned to He Chunhua. "The night is cold and the dew is heavy. Make sure the guards get hot water and hot food as well."
Chapter 97