Zhan Zhao Adventures - Chapter Two (Part V)

Chapter Two: The Curtain of Twilight (Part V)

By the time the first light of dawn broke, the torrential rain had finally ceased, leaving only a fierce, biting wind to whip across the landscape.

 

Old Meng, the head constable of Qingshui County, felt as though he had crossed paths with some ultimate star of misfortune lately. Even drinking cold water seemed to get stuck in his teeth. He figured he truly ought to visit Blind Cui in the south of the city to have his fortune read for these past few days.

 

First, the Prince of Xiangyang’s Manor had erupted into a frenzy a few days ago, demanding a massive dragnet to capture a royal fugitive. Yet, they flatly refused to reveal the fugitive’s name, appearance, or the nature of their crime. This mystery had mobilized not only the Prince’s vanguard but also all manner of bizarre jianghu figures from the illustrious Jinshi Hall.

 

Furthermore, the pursuing forces operated with absolute secrecy, carrying around a single treasured portrait to identify their target. They refused to follow standard protocols, refusing to issue public bounties or post sketches of the criminal for the common populace to see.

 

Old Meng had eaten the bread of the public office for over thirty years and had served as the head constable of Qingshui County for more than two decades; he had seen every type of character imaginable. Though he didn't recognize the person in the portrait, the face clearly didn't resemble some brutal, bloodthirsty monster. For a youth so young to throw the entire Prince of Xiangyang’s Manor into such an uproar—while simultaneously forcing them to conduct their hunt in such a clandestine manner—made him wonder if the youth held some devastating leverage over the Prince.

 

The Prince of Xiangyang was the current Emperor’s biological uncle and had long reigned as the absolute sovereign of the Xiangyang region. Who on earth was this young man, and where did he find the celestial audacity to strike at the Prince's Manor?

 

To make matters worse, just as dawn was breaking and the rain was still pouring buckets outside, Old Meng had been violently dragged out from the warm embrace of the courtesan Little Fengxian in the eastern alley of the county seat. The messenger carried a direct directive from Commander Shao of the Prince's Manor, ordering him to transport a murder suspect from the Little Langtou Mountain Inn back to the county seat immediately. Once the weather cleared, he and Commandant Feng were to personally escort the prisoner directly to the Prince's Manor in Xiangyang.

 

By the time he gathered two constables and marched over twenty miles through the torrential rain to reach the Little Langtou Mountain Inn—looking like a collection of drowned rats—Commander Shao’s main force had already departed. Only Commandant Feng and three vanguard soldiers remained, shouting commands at a frail, freckled boy. To make matters worse, the boy was completely mute.

 

Commandant Feng, his belly full of irritation, naturally took out his frustrations on Old Meng and the unfortunate Innkeeper Cai, making Old Meng feel as though all the misery in the world had converged upon him like lice in a Qingshui County dungeon.

 

When Commandant Feng finally finished his wine, belching with a face slick with grease as he pointed out the mute youth, Old Meng could scarcely believe his own eyes and ears. The mute boy wore thin, tattered clothes caked in mud. Had Old Meng encountered him on the streets of Qingshui County, he likely would have dismissed him as a beggar and kicked him aside. Furthermore, the boy possessed absolutely no martial arts training and bore an injury on his arm; a single finger could have knocked him over. How could a creature like this be the prime suspect behind the slaughter of over a dozen lives at the inn last night?

 

Studying him closely, Old Meng found the boy's eyes highly peculiar. Within them lay a mixture of profound terror and an utter, reckless defiance. For a child of twelve or thirteen to possess such a gaze caused Old Meng to blink his red, alcohol-rimmed eyes, a sense of calculation rising in his chest.

 

Shortly after, Master Feng, having fully restored his energies while picking his yellow teeth, climbed onto his black-maned bay horse. Amidst the bowing and scraping of the plump, miserable Innkeeper Cai, he led the party slowly out of the inn.

 

It was only then that Old Meng realized what a catastrophic mistake he had made by failing to bring horses for his own men.

 

The foothills were incredibly rugged. Though the storm had cleared to reveal the first rays of sun, the biting wind had frozen the surface mud into a thin, deceptive crust. A single step would frequently cause one’s boots to sink deep into the mire.

 

The path grew increasingly muddy. The three men from Qingshui County had been marching all night and were already thoroughly exhausted. Hearing that they had to escort this sickly, mute brat only made them curse their luck further. Human legs simply could not match the speed of a stallion from the Prince's Manor, especially when their walking party was dragged down by a pair of tiny, frail legs.

 

They dragged themselves along the path for three grueling hours, yet had covered less than three miles. Master Feng’s patience had long worn thin, and his curses grew increasingly violent.

 

Trudging through the thick mire of the mountain path, chilled to the bone by the piercing wind, listening to Master Feng’s raucous shouting, and dreaming of Little Fengxian’s warm bed, her fair visage, and her sweet, gentle murmurs, Old Meng felt he was truly the most wretched man alive.

 

Thus, when they rounded a mountain pass and suddenly found two figures standing dead center in the middle of the road, blocking their path, Old Meng's accumulated fury finally found its perfect outlet.

 

"Are you blind?!" he roared at the top of his lungs. "Can't you see official officers conducting imperial business? Clear the road for your grandfathers this instant!"

 

Yet, despite the immense volume of his shout, the two figures in the middle of the path acted as though they were completely deaf. They remained perfectly motionless, standing right in the center of the road.

 

They were two individuals clad in pale green robes. Their faces bore the dust of travel, indicating they had journeyed a vast distance. Yet, their pale green robes were immaculately clean, without a single speck of mud marring the fabric. Their demeanor was entirely peaceful.

 

It was only then that Old Meng realized one of the two figures was a woman. A breathtakingly beautiful woman.

 

Instantly, the eyes of the officers lit up like flies spotting a piece of spoiled meat.

 

The woman wore a wide, flowing pale green robe, loosely bound at her waist by a multicolored silk sash. Her raven-black hair was casually gathered by an identical sash. As her gaze swept softly across the men, an intoxicating charm radiated from her. Every man present felt as though she were looking at him alone, causing half their bodies to go completely numb with desire. When she looked at you, it felt as though she were gazing upon the most handsome, attentive man in the entire world.

 

Her every smile and gesture completely captivated the gaze of everyone present; no one even bothered to notice whether the remaining figure was tall or short, hideous or handsome.

 

Old Meng finally swallowed a mouthful of saliva and stammered, "My lady, what business do you have blocking the road?"

 

The woman let out a soft, melodious giggle, lowering her head slightly. Upon the collar of her robe was embroidered a small crescent moon. Her collar flared open like the wings of a dove, revealing skin that was as smooth as jade and flawlessly delicate. Her neck lay exposed, radiating a primal, seductive allure even under the gray clouds of the afternoon sky.

 

"This humble maiden merely wishes to ask a small favor of you grand officers. I wonder if you would be so kind as to grant me this honor?" Her voice remained incredibly enchanting, weaving its way straight into the marrow of their bones.

 

Old Meng felt an intense wave of lust rush straight to his head, while Commandant Feng's saliva began to drip uncontrollably from his jaw. This time, it was Feng who eagerly stole the initiative to speak.

 

"What... what kind of favor does my lady require? Speak freely!" Commandant Feng barked, thumping his chest with pride. "Under the heavens, there is absolutely nothing our Prince of Xiangyang’s Manor cannot provide."

 

The woman raised her head, offering a dazzling smile as her gaze swept across him. Commandant Feng felt his very soul take flight.

 

"I merely wish to ask for your heads."

 

The final word had barely left her lips when Old Meng suddenly realized his left eye was looking directly at his right eye. He wanted to exclaim, How utterly bizarre, but discovered his lips had already split into four separate pieces. By the time he realized his body had been sliced cleanly in half, his final thought was that every ounce of misfortune in his entire life had truly converged upon this single day.

 

Then came a violent spray of blood.

 

As Commandant Feng’s head flew through the air, he still had enough time to witness the six corpses falling to the ground, his own severed torso remaining seated atop the horse, and the image of a hand holding a white silk handkerchief, gently wiping the edge of a blade beneath the dark clouds.

 

He could still hear that enchanting, beautiful voice echoing in his ears.

 

"Your heart is always far more ruthless than mine. I merely asked for their heads."

 

The young man in green meticulously wiped his blade with the white silk handkerchief, then carelessly tossed it onto the ground before slamming the weapon back into its circular sheath.

 

The mud of the mountain path quickly soaked the handkerchief, staining it black. Only then did the metallic stench of blood begin to permeate the narrow pass.

 

"You merely want their heads," the young man in green stated coldly. "What I want is for them to be so utterly terrified that even in their next reincarnation, they will never dare approach me. Even in their dreams, they will never dare visualize my face!"

 

To him, such calculated brutality was merely a natural course of action.

 

The wind continued to howl violently, whipping against the long robes of the green-clad man. The pale, sickly sun crept slowly toward the west. The young man stood with his hands folded behind his back, a chilling indifference etched across his features.

 

His eyes were completely devoid of human emotion, resembling the eyes of a corpse. When he looked at you, it felt as though he were staring at a dead man. Yet, as his gaze fell upon the boy standing amidst the corpses, his pupils track-shifted slightly.

 

The boy was trembling violently, though whether it was from the biting wind or the terrifying gaze of the green-clad man remained unclear.

 

The woman in green let out a soft, melodious sigh. Her enchanting voice rang out once more.

 

"You truly made us search far and wide for you."

 

"If we had been delayed by even a few days, we would have ruined the Grand Matriarch's great designs."

 

"If the Grand Matriarch loses her temper this time, absolutely no one will be able to save you."

 

The pale, cold sunlight reflected off the boy’s freckled face, which was now contorting with absolute dread.