Qin Jiuye truly did not need anyone to accompany her. She was familiar with the road back to Dingweng Village, and traveling alone allowed her to move faster.
Although He Yuanzhou was dead, the case had seen some new progress, and she should have felt a sense of relief. Yet, for some reason, as she walked along the familiar path, the ease and freedom she usually felt were nowhere to be found.
Li Qiao’s words earlier might have been a sharp reminder, but they weren't without cause. As soon as she entered the village, the young and old returning home after a day of farm work all greeted her. She hadn't been back to Guoran Ju for some time, yet the villagers had been thinking of her, pulling her aside to ask where she had gone, if she was ever coming back, and if Guoran Ju would stop selling medicine.
She couldn't tell how much of this concern was for her, how much was for her medicine, and how much was a calculation of how to wipe their outstanding debts clean. Ultimately, she was somewhat moved. After explaining herself to each of them, she walked without pause toward her familiar courtyard.
The twilight glow hit the battered door of Guoran Ju, lending it an indescribable sense of warmth. The half-collapsed chimney was not smoking. Qin Jiuye slid the latch and entered the courtyard alone.
The yard was silent. As expected, Jin Bao and Qin Sanyou were not there; she didn't know if they had returned to look after the business after the gathering at Tingfeng Hall the previous night.
However, the courtyard had clearly been swept. Weeds and fallen leaves had been cleared away, and harvested medicinal herbs were neatly arranged in the yard, waiting to be dried. The woodpile in the corner was stacked as precisely as a mason’s new wall.
It seemed Old Qin had been in a good mood lately, actually finding the leisure to tidy up the yard.
Qin Jiuye felt a brief moment of sentimentality before hurrying into the inner room of the eastern wing.
The used medicine jars had been washed clean and arranged neatly on the shelves. The fire in the medicine stove had been out for a long time; it felt completely cold to the touch.
When she was here, this stove burned almost twenty-four hours a day. She never let anyone else handle the roasting of herbs, so neither Jin Bao nor Qin Sanyou were very familiar with the earthen stove in Guoran Ju.
Qin Jiuye thought for a moment, still feeling uneasy. She crouched down, about to roll up her sleeves to clear the accumulated ash from the firebox, only to find that someone had already cleaned it.
She froze, and then she finally understood.
She knew Jin Bao; even if he were beaten to death, he could never become this meticulous. While the yard, the fresh wood, and even the medicine jars might have been tidied by Old Qin in a passing whim, the firebox was almost impossible. Because a brick had collapsed in the flue of Guoran Ju’s stove, it was always half-blocked and had to be used at a specific angle—a detail known only to those who used it frequently.
It was Li Qiao.
That day, because she hadn't wanted to see him, she had used the excuse of sending him back to Guoran Ju and had given him many tasks. Now it seemed that besides those tasks, he had done much more.
Over the past two months, he must have grown accustomed to doing these things. And she, without realizing when it started, had not personally done them for a long time.
She prided herself on being independent and strong, believing she could live perfectly well without anyone by her side. Yet, ever since she had kept him there because of that half-tile, she had, in the end, grown used to his presence.
Qin Jiuye stood in a daze for a while until the faint sound of a shepherd driving sheep home drifted in from the window, snapping her back to her senses.
She went to check the water vat. The water had hit bottom. The carrying pole in the corner was missing, and the few taro roots at the bottom of the grass basket nearby had vanished.
That lazy fellow Jin Bao—only when the water vat was empty would he reluctantly make a trip along the mountain path. She wondered if he had sobered up after eating those taro roots; she hoped he wouldn't stumble into a ravine while walking.
Qin Jiuye shook her head and checked the remaining rice.
There was still some rice left, and melons and beans were still in storage. The vegetables in the field were currently growing fast, so there would be no shortage of food for the time being.
There was food, and Jin Bao had gone to fetch water, but Qin Sanyou was not there. He had likely sneaked off again to deliver vegetables or work on a boat.
Qin Jiuye sighed and looked at the sky outside.
The weather had been fine these past few days with no heavy rain. The river was calm, so those working the boats shouldn't suffer too much. She didn't know how much of her previous warning Qin Sanyou had actually taken to heart. She couldn't be by his side to watch him constantly; she could only pray daily for good weather and that her grandfather’s small sampan could hold out for a bit longer.
After checking the arranged herbs once more, Qin Jiuye took a strangely shaped, sealed jar from a nearby shelf. She walked out of the room to the water vat in the corner of the yard. Carefully pushing aside the lush duckweed growing in the vat, she submerged the jar. After waiting a moment, she pulled it out sharply, carefully sealed the lid, and hung the jar from her waist.
Having finished this, she stopped dwelling on her delays and walked quickly through the courtyard and out the brushwood gate.
***
The twilight was heavy. On the mountain path of Xizhu Mountain, southwest of Jiugao City, a black carriage traveled slowly.
The carriage was plain in style, with no decorations on its frame. The servant driving was dressed in dusty, grey hemp clothes, letting the two green horses pull the carriage at a leisurely, slow pace without so much as a flick of the reins.
This place was not far from Qingping Road, and people of the martial world were always moving through the mountains. Wealthy merchants, those "thin-skinned and full-fleshed" targets, would rather take a long detour than travel this path and become easy prey.
The sound of hooves approached on the mountain road. Occasionally, martial artists with half-exposed scabbards at their waists would gallop past, casting inquisitive glances at the carriage. They wondered which city family this was that rarely traveled; to take such a dangerous mountain path was one thing, but to miscalculate the timing of the journey was another. At this pace, they wouldn't reach the city before dark. If they encountered bandits or thieves, they would have no one to blame but themselves.
But the moment they slowed down to approach the carriage, a sudden sound of hooves echoed from the mountain path, drawing closer.
That sound was entirely different from the sound of their own horses; it was heavy, mingled with the clanging of metal and iron.
It was the specific sound of a military horse’s weighted shoes hitting the ground, a sound no ordinary merchant’s horse could produce.
The martial artists exchanged glances and immediately galloped away.
In the martial world, even the most arrogant villains did not like to provoke the military. And in these unsettled times, why fall into trouble for a momentary whim?
The mounted martial artists vanished at the end of the mountain road, and the sound of the unseen military hooves faded back into the forest, as if the noise had merely been an illusion born of a traveler’s nerves.
The black carriage continued to sway slowly along the mountain path. The servant driving never looked left or right for a single second, staring only at the winding road ahead. Occasionally, he flicked his bamboo whip, but only to drive away the mountain insects flying toward him.
The bend in the road came to an end, and the obstructed view opened up again.
Suddenly, a figure burst out from the dense forest on the side of the mountain. As soon as he found his footing on the road, he staggered toward the oncoming carriage.
The two large green horses leading the carriage were startled, neighing as they came to a halt, causing the carriage behind them to jerk.
The driving servant adjusted his hat, which had slipped halfway down, and quickly turned to peek inside the carriage curtain. After confirming something, he slowly turned back around.
In that brief moment, the figure who had rushed onto the mountain path had drawn near. It appeared to be an old man carrying two battered baskets on a shoulder pole.
The old man hesitated as he reached the carriage, standing still for the moment.
Right then, the sound of military hooves rang out again, and a mounted figure appeared from behind. The rider was dressed in hemp clothes and a cloak, looking like a traveler in a hurry to return to the city. Despite the three or four bends in the mountain road, the rider arrived in an instant. When he spoke, his voice was like a great bell, his presence expansive—clearly no ordinary martial artist, but a cavalryman of military origin.
"Who blocks the road? This is the carriage of the Qiu Residence! Out of the way, quickly!"
Hearing this, the old man in the road took off his felt hat, revealing a weathered, dark face.
His hands fidgeted with the hat, and when he spoke, his voice sounded strangely bashful.
"Officer, do not be anxious. I... I have no other intention. I only brought some freshly dug bamboo shoots..."
As he spoke, he unloaded his burden, propping up the pole with a stick. He then reached out to lift the straw mat covering the battered baskets.
Seeing this, the cavalryman threw back his cloak, his right hand gripping the hilt of the saber at his waist.
"Hold!"
The old man was startled, and the straw mat fell to the ground. The baskets indeed contained only bamboo shoots of various sizes; there was nothing else.
Only then did the cavalryman slowly lower his hand from his saber, though his expression remained cold and hard. He waved his hand, signaling the man to move.
"My lord entered the mountains today for a memorial service and must fast and bathe. His food must be more refined than usual; how could he eat crude mountain fare? I said we aren't buying, so move aside!"
Normally, if he spoke so rudely, most peddlers would sensibly move away, fearing they might provoke the wrong person and suffer for it.
But the man before him today seemed unable to read the room. He showed no intention of retreating; instead, he leaned in closer.
"I am not here to sell anything. These are free. I knew the General was coming to the mountains for a memorial today, so I hurried over. I heard he has always liked these shoots from Suiqing. A few years ago, floods were constant and the waterways were blocked; it’s only thanks to the General that things have improved. These were just brought over from the Daixiao River this morning; they still had dew on them before they were peeled..."
The old man earnestly described his mud-flecked shoots. Fearing the other wouldn't believe him, he turned to take some out of the basket to show him.
But his words were far too suspicious. How could an old man selling shoots know the schedule and preferences of Qiu Yan, the Water Suppression Commandant? How could he even be waiting by the road? It was likely a premeditated plot, seeking some gain.
Thinking this, the rider drew his saber instantly, a faint murderous intent in his voice.
"I said we don't want them! Why do you persist? My lord has no use for your trifles! If you delay our return to the city, can you take responsibility for it?!"
The old man seemed stunned by the reaction and couldn't move. Seeing this, the cavalryman prepared to spur his horse forward to force the man off the road.
However, in the next moment, a voice drifted out from the carriage behind him.
"Stop."
It was the voice of an elderly man, authoritative yet possessing a sense of gentleness.
The moment Qin Sanyou heard that voice, his hunched back froze, and he could no longer move an inch.
There was a slight rustle in the carriage as someone lifted the curtain and looked out. Seeing this, the cavalryman’s expression immediately turned respectful.
"Reporting to the Commandant, this old man appeared out of nowhere, insisting on selling his wares. This is a mountain road, a truly desolate place. Your subordinate feared a trap..."
"In the vastness of Longshu, everything outside the cities consists of mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas—the 'desolate places' you speak of. If that is the case, you should interrogate every person you meet. Why is it that earlier at the Hundred-Step Pavilion, when we encountered the Provincial Governor and the Inspector General who came to converse, you didn't say a word and let them leave?"
The cavalryman’s expression stiffened, his pride wounded. He stammered for a long while before replying.
"Lord Luo is a man close to the General of the South, and he was the current Emperor’s study companion during his 'Hidden Dragon' years. How can he be compared to this rustic commoner?"
The person in the carriage continued slowly.
"Then when those martial artists galloped past just now, why didn't I see you being so harsh and aggressive?"
The cavalryman stiffened again. The veins bulging at his temples revealed him to be a volatile and easily angered man. He clenched his fists to keep his rage from showing on his face as he continued to defend himself.
"Those people were just passing through. If they had approached or blocked the road, I would have struck without hesitation!" He paused here, pointing at the old man standing in the road. "This man’s behavior is quite troublesome. He’s using these shoots as an excuse to beg for money, even chasing us onto the road. Not only that, from what he said, he seems to know the Commandant’s itinerary perfectly. He likely planned to intercept us halfway. This is a calculated move—truly audacious and lawless..."
The person in the carriage finally grew impatient. When he spoke again, his voice was no longer gentle.
"Is there a written government decree forbidding the sale of mountain goods here? Or a regulation stating this road is only for carriages and horses, and not for those on foot?"
The cavalryman, his words cut short, remained silent for a full half-minute before gritting his teeth.
"No."
"Your father’s generation were refugees from Yuzhou, and you come from a poor family yourself. You are no different from him. Now that you’ve put on this uniform, you think yourself superior and even use my name to harass him. You have quite the nerve." The tone of the person in the carriage shifted sharply, like a long spear piercing through the carriage walls to pin the rider to his saddle. "I allowed you and your men to follow me not because of who you are, but because of who sent you. You may only follow me until we leave the outskirts of Jiugao. Once I return to the city, you are not to come within a single step of me. Do you understand this fact?"
He wore no armor and held no weapon, yet his words carried the weight of a thousand thunderclaps. The cavalryman scrambled off his horse and knelt on the ground, trembling with fear.
"I have erred! I beg... I beg the Commandant for punishment!"
After a moment, Qiu Yan’s voice rose again, faintly tinged with exhaustion.
"What crime have you committed? You were merely acting on military orders. The mountain roads are winding; your subordinates likely don't know the situation here. Go and explain it clearly to them so no unnecessary misunderstandings arise. After that, there is no need to follow further. I will return to the city on my own."
The cavalryman could only grit his teeth and remount. He cast one last look at the old man in the middle of the road before turning his horse and galloping away.
As the sound of hooves faded into the mountains, Qiu Yan looked at the hunched figure before the carriage, his tone softening.
"It was my lack of discipline that startled you. Do not take offense, old man."
However, the other man acted as if he hadn't heard. He was bent over, head lowered, struggling with the battered bamboo baskets.
Qin Sanyou’s hands were shaking. No matter how he tried, he couldn't untie the cloth strip fastened to the basket’s opening. Sweat broke out on his forehead in his frustration.
Qiu Yan watched for a while and said kindly, "Do not worry, old man. I have not eaten mountain shoots for many years. Here is some silver; take it as a small apology for what just happened."
Before he could finish, the white-bearded old man suddenly became emotional and turned to look at him.
"I don't want silver!"
The words burst out of him, and then he froze.
Behind the half-lifted curtain, the simply dressed, grey-haired old general was looking at him with some surprise—but it seemed he was only surprised by the man's sudden outburst.
Those eyes were still gentle, but when they looked at him, there was no longer the care and expectation of the past. There was only the kindness one shows a stranger.
Qin Sanyou lowered his head. After a long silence, he yanked the hemp sack out of the bamboo basket and shoved it into the arms of the driving servant without a word.
"These shoots were brought specifically for the General. If the General won't eat them, then throw them away."
With that, he turned and shouldered his pole. Hunching his back, he ducked into a small path through the roadside brush and vanished in an instant.
The driving servant looked blankly at the bag of shoots in his arms, pouting as he muttered, "What a strange old man."
After muttering, he turned to look at the old general behind him.
"Master, should we really take this back to the manor?"
"Keep it." The curtain was slowly lowered, and Qiu Yan’s voice grew faint. "When we return to the manor, give it to Manager Shi. Have her make soup for those two rascals. I remember they were fond of this as well."
It had indeed been so, but that was over ten years ago. He could hardly remember the last time the Lord of Broken Jade had returned home.
But then again, why did that strange old man also call his master "General"?
The driving servant paused, but in the end, he said nothing more and respectfully obeyed.
The carriage set off slowly once more. The "clack-clack" of the wheels over the stony road echoed through the forest, sounding for a while before gradually fading away until it could no longer be heard.
Deep in the forest, the pole on Qin Sanyou’s shoulder slipped and fell to the ground. He didn't mind it; he stood for a moment, then sat down heavily on the earth.
His eyes were hollow, filled with both disappointment and confusion.
His General did not recognize him.
But wasn't this something he should have expected long ago? Who would remember an old soldier from over twenty years ago who had been a bit muddled in his duties? Besides, there was the matter of how he had left in the first place...
On the mountain peak, the last glow of the sun vanished completely. The mountains were plunged into darkness.
In the darkness, intermittent sounds drifted through the air—perhaps the wail of a nocturnal fox returning home, or perhaps merely the sound of the wind blowing past.
***
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