Chapter 11 Killing the Officers

Chapter 11: Killing the Soldiers

The oppressive dusk weighed heavily, making it difficult to breathe.

A coughing sound came from inside the house. Duan Lingwen quickly entered, seeing the elderly man propped on the bed, coughing uncontrollably. He hurriedly poured a cup of water and offered it.

After drinking and catching his breath, the old man spoke first, "What happened today?"

"It's nothing..." Duan Lingwen, not wanting to worry the old man, whispered, "It’s just... the city inspections were strict, and I... I didn’t have time to buy medicine."

A brief silence fell in the room.

After a long while, the old man sighed, gently holding Duan Lingwen’s hand. "Earlier, that child Duan Pan rushed over in a panic and told me everything..."

At the village entrance earlier, even if Duan Pan wanted to help Duan Lingwen, he didn’t dare to approach. He had no choice but to tell his grandfather everything. However, the old man could hardly leave his bed and could only hope that Duan Lingwen would return safely.

Duan Lingwen suddenly looked up, his expression flustered.

The old man couldn’t bear to continue, only gripping his hand tighter.

At that moment, all pretense crumbled.

Duan Lingwen could no longer hold back his tears, which fell drop by drop. He lowered his head, his voice choked with pain: "Uncle Duan... Uncle Duan was killed by bandits while waiting for us, just outside the city, just outside... If only I had come out earlier..."

He began to blame himself, wondering why he had haggled with the fur shop owner, wasting so much time. If he had come out earlier, perhaps he could have prevented it all.

The villagers called him unlucky, a jinx, saying he would eventually cause others’ deaths...

It seemed their words had come true.

Grief, fear, guilt, and sorrow seized his heart. His body trembled as hot tears streamed down his cheeks.

The old man gently patted his shoulder, offering silent comfort.

A figure stood silently outside the door. Jing Su did not enter the room. Duan Lingwen’s voice and tears felt like countless needles piercing the softest part of Jing Su’s heart.

The next day, just as dawn broke.

The old man, having stayed awake all night, called Duan Lingwen to his bedside. He pulled out a small cloth bundle from under his pillow, unwrapping it layer by layer to reveal dozens of polished copper coins.

"Wenwen," the old man’s voice was hoarse and weak, "take these... buy some salt and bring it to Uncle Duan’s family."

"Grandpa..." Duan Lingwen’s throat tightened.

The old man forcefully pressed the cloth bundle into his hand, his thin fingers trembling slightly. "Uncle Duan... died a tragic death. Duan Laoer is hopeless. This isn’t much, but it’s our small gesture... to help him... help him rest in peace."

As he spoke, the old man turned his head away, suppressing another bout of coughing.

Duan Lingwen clenched the small cloth bundle tightly, nodded firmly, and quickly walked out the door.

The village was still quiet in the early morning, but whenever he encountered villagers, they averted their eyes or quickened their pace, pretending not to see him as he headed toward Uncle Duan’s house.

Duan Lingwen lowered his head and walked even faster.

In front of Uncle Duan’s low earthen house, a simple mourning tent had been set up. Plain white cloth fluttered bleakly in the wind. Only a few people arranged by the village elder were in the courtyard helping, but Duan Laoer was nowhere to be seen.

He stood at the gate, hesitating, too afraid to enter.

Just then, Widow Zhang inside the courtyard noticed him.

Widow Zhang and Uncle Duan didn’t really have any formal relationship—if anything, it was a tragic bond.

In their youth, Uncle Duan was honest, kind, and articulate. The two could be said to have grown up together. However, later, Uncle Duan was conscripted for labor and had his throat scalded, returning mute.

Widow Zhang’s parents disapproved of her marrying a mute and, against her wishes, married her off as a concubine to a local squire.

Upon learning this, Uncle Duan fell into despair for a time. Several years later, persuaded by others, he married a *Shuang'er* and had a son.

However, that *Shuang'er* was short-lived, passing away not long after giving birth.

A few more years passed, and Widow Zhang’s husband died, so she returned to the village. In truth, neither could let go of the other. Though there was gossip, life had to go on.

Widow Zhang hinted several times, but Uncle Duan felt that being mute, he didn’t want to burden anyone else.

And so, decades slipped away.

Upon hearing of Uncle Duan’s death, Widow Zhang cried all night, her tears long dried. When she saw Duan Lingwen, her face showed no expression.

Summoning his courage, Duan Lingwen slowly walked over and handed her the small cloth bundle, his voice barely audible: "This is our... small token of respect..."

Widow Zhang’s gaze fell on the small cloth bundle, then slowly shifted to Duan Lingwen’s pale, guilt-ridden face. She remained silent for a long time, not taking the bundle. Instead, she said hoarsely, with great difficulty, "Go inside... and kowtow to Uncle Duan."

She had heard plenty of village gossip, claiming that Duan Lingwen was the jinx who caused Uncle Duan’s death...

It pained her to hear such things. For so many years, rumors and slander had never ceased.

Did she resent Duan Lingwen?

Yes, she did.

After all, Uncle Duan’s death was connected to Duan Lingwen. But the true culprits were the cruel world and the terrifying hearts of people.

Duan Lingwen nodded, placed the cloth bundle aside, and quickly walked inside.

He looked at the cold coffin, his eyes reddening slightly, and knelt solemnly, kowtowing three times.

As he left, Duan Lingwen glanced around and noticed that Uncle Duan’s old ox was missing. But he didn’t dare ask, lowering his head and hurrying away.

Meanwhile, elsewhere.

Jing Su kicked a loafer to the ground and coldly demanded, "Where is Duan Laoer?"

This loafer was one of Duan Laoer’s longtime companions, though he was more timid than the others. Seeing Duan Laoer insist on reporting to the authorities, he found an excuse to slip away and happened to run into Jing Su.

At first, the loafer refused to say anything under Jing Su’s questioning. It was only after Jing Su resorted to force that he told the truth: "Laoer... he went to report to the authorities. You should leave Duan Family Village quickly..."

Hearing this, Jing Su frowned deeply. He had long known that someone like Duan Laoer wouldn’t let things go, but he hadn’t expected him to be even more despicable and vicious than imagined.

By now, it was too late to stop him.

Jing Su turned and left. When he returned to Duan Lingwen’s home, he found him chopping wood in the yard.

Frowning, Jing Su pondered his next move.

At this point, the best course of action was to leave Duan Family Village and first locate his uncle. However, if he left and something happened, he would regret it deeply.

Duan Lingwen placed the chopped wood to the side and stood up. Just then, Jing Su took his hand and led him aside, his expression grave. "Wenwen, there’s something I need to tell you."

"What's wrong?" Duan Lingwen asked, puzzled.

Jing Su said slowly and deliberately: "Duan Laoer went to report to the authorities early this morning. He wants the officials to arrest me as a rebel."

"How... how could he..." Duan Lingwen's eyes widened in disbelief. Immediately, he pushed Jing Su away, urging, "Then you need to leave, get out of the village quickly."

If the soldiers couldn't find him, they would likely leave.

Jing Su nodded gently, looking deeply at Duan Lingwen. "I know it's not the right time to bring this up, but I still want to ask you something..."

Duan Lingwen's mind was filled with thoughts of the soldiers, the events in the city yesterday still vivid in his memory. Anxious, he wanted to help Jing Su gather his things and leave.

But Jing Su didn't seem hurried at all. He held Duan Lingwen's hand firmly and said seriously, "Wenwen, wait for me to come back, and let's get married, alright?"

"Hmm..." Duan Lingwen responded instinctively, but as the words sank in, he froze in place. The earlier anxiety was instantly crushed by this shocking proposition, his mind went blank, buzzing with confusion.

"You... what did you say?" He jerked his head up, eyes wide and round, his ears quickly flushing red.

Jing Su's expression was completely serious, and he said solemnly, "I know this is very sudden for you..."

But there wasn't much time left.

Duan Laoer going to the authorities for revenge was utterly foolish.

In his previous life, when the soldiers came to Duanjia Village and couldn't find any rebels, they took villagers away as scapegoats. Essentially, once the soldiers arrived, Duanjia Village would face disaster.

What he needed to do was stop this before it begins.

"But... but..." Duan Lingwen was tongue-tied, "Why... why bring this up now? Everything's so chaotic... Duan Laoer has already reported to the authorities, shouldn't you leave first?"

He abruptly pulled his hand back and pushed Jing Su, urging him to pack quickly and leave Duanjia Village first.

Jing Su didn't pressure him for an immediate decision. He only took the sword wrapped in cloth from inside the house. Before leaving, he glanced at Duan Lingwen, who had lowered his head, then slowly stepped forward and embraced him, whispering softly, "I'll be back soon."

Duan Lingwen nodded in a daze, slowly raising his hands to return the embrace with trembling hands. "Be careful..."

Noticing this, Jing Su's lips curved into a faint smile, which only strengthened his resolve.

After leaving Duanjia Village, Jing Su didn't go far away.

He stopped in a dense forest along the main route, finding a high spot that overlooked the path while remaining well-concealed.

Time passed slowly. Jing Su removed the cloth wrapping from his long sword and tied it around his wrist.

His injuries weren't fully healed, so he had to end this quickly. He adjusted his posture slightly. Finally, footsteps sounded in the distance. Jing Su's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, the veins on the back of his hand slightly bulging.

However, it was just an ordinary farmer who appeared around the corner.

The farmer carried a load on his shoulder, walking slowly past. Jing Su's fingers gradually loosened on the hilt.

The next moment, hurried footsteps accompanied the chaotic sound of horse hooves.

Dust rose as Duan Laoer and a few others ran at the front, sweating profusely from exhaustion. Behind them were six soldiers on horseback, their leader constantly urging, "Faster! Move faster!"

One of the idlers, too tired to go on, supported his knees and gasped for breath, pleading, "Sir, please let us catch our breath... we really... really can't go on."

The soldier on horseback frowned, his face full of impatience. He snapped his whip in the air, producing a sharp crack. "If you delay the capture, I'll treat you all as rebels! Move it!"

His words cut off abruptly.

A dark figure suddenly swooped down from above. The soldier, who had been speaking with impatience moments before, now stared in shock at the bloody hole in his chest before collapsing lifelessly from his horse.

"Ambush!"

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