Chapter 244

Chapter 244

Old Man Zhao hadn't planned to stick his nose in, but his legs wouldn't listen. Since he had already spoken, he decided to follow his impulse, putting on a stern face as he walked over and looked at the boy held tightly in the youth’s arms.

"Hey, you in the long gown, I'm calling you! Are you deaf or what?!"

He was a burly man, his thick brows knitted, his eyes as big as an ox's, glaring over with an imposing presence worthy of the door god Guan Yu painted on the doors—one look was enough to make anyone's heart quail.

In the dead of winter, he wore only a thin patched jacket, the brawny arms clearly announcing that this was a formidable old man not to be trifled with.

Not to mention the chubby little girl he held in his arms—even though Zhao Xiaobao had smeared soot on her face, making her look grimy all over, her chubby frame and well-loved look of a child properly cherished by her parents and relatives could not be hidden.

Plump kids weren't uncommon, but a plump kid on the run who showed no signs of having endured hardship—this was highly unusual.

The scarred man furrowed his brow, his gaze falling on Old Man Zhao, scanning his sturdy frame from head to toe. He suddenly hesitated to act rashly.

But deep in his eyes hid a covetousness that no one noticed.

Zhou Zikang initially tried to pretend he hadn't heard. Who would have thought he'd run into a fellow townsman in Fengchuan Prefecture, and that this man would actually chase after him, meddling in things that were none of his business!

He didn't want to bother with this man, but at a critical moment, the scarred man chickened out like a mute dog playing deaf! He took a deep breath, fighting to mask the cold glare in his eyes, curving his lips into a smile. He turned around, hesitated with a hint of confusion, and asked, "Old sir, were you calling me?"

As he spoke, his eyes swept over the man's face, but he couldn't match this rough face to anyone he remembered. Not a relative, not a neighbor—could it be someone from the same town? Or a clan member from his uncle-in-law's hometown? A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, but his expression remained unchanged, his smile frozen at an angle that gave Zhao Xiaobao the creeps.

Holy cow, this cousin of mine seems like a puppet.

Zhao Xiaobao rubbed her chubby arms and heard her father say gruffly, "Who else but you is wearing a long gown?"

Zhou Zikang let out two dry laughs: "My apologies, the noise here made it hard to hear."

Old Man Zhao stared at the boy in his arms. The youth pressing the boy's mouth and nose tightly against himself—whether intentional or not, the boy was clearly struggling to breathe. His face darkened. "Why are you holding him so tight? Let up a bit! Do you want to suffocate him? What kind of cousin are you?!"

It had been a long time since anyone dared speak to him in such a tone. Zhou Zikang's face hardened for a moment. He looked down at Chen Ping'an in his arms, took a deep breath, and suddenly loosened his grip. He lowered his head with feigned concern: "I lost my composure in the urgency. I didn't mean to, cousin. Are you all right?"

The boy forced his eyes open. Seeing who it was, he cried out, "Dad, oh, Dad…"

"It's me, your cousin Zikang. Look carefully, I'm not your uncle."

"I want Mom and Dad, I want my parents…" The boy weakly struggled, his long, grimy fingernails raking two deep scratch marks across Zhou Zikang's face.

Zhou Zikang's expression changed instantly, barely controlling his reaction. He raised his hand without thinking.

If that slap landed, it would be disastrous. But Qing Xuan reacted quickly—no one saw how he moved. He grabbed Zhou Zikang's wrist, making him cry out in pain. By the time the scarred man reacted with a furious roar, pulling out a long whip from his waist, he shouted, "What do you think you're doing?!"

"What did my boy do? What did he do?! Stop yelling at him, I dare you!" A loud roar came from behind Old Man Zhao. Zhao Dashan and Zhao Ertian, leading seven or eight men, ran over. Zhao Dashan clutched a long object wrapped in cloth. Others might not understand, but the scarred man recognized it at once—that was a broadsword!

He stared at the group, reassessing their origins. Earlier, mingling among the refugees, he had taken them for a group of outsiders traveling together. The leader had some presence, but the group had many old, weak, women, and children, so he hadn't taken them seriously.

A group of refugees carrying firewood on carts—even robbers wouldn't bother with them. Who would have thought that hidden among those broken carts and baskets there was a sword? Not a hoe or sickle, but a real broadsword that could gut a man!

Zhao Dashan and his men walked over grimly. The scarred man's men immediately gathered around him. The nearby refugees, terrified like quails, hastily picked up their loads, grabbed their belongings, and fled, afraid to be caught up in the conflict.

They forgot their exhaustion, and in the blink of an eye, the surrounding area was cleared.

At that moment, the old woman who had been knocked down, her face bloodied, struggled up again. Seizing the chance while Qing Xuan held Zhou Zikang's wrist, she used all her strength to snatch the boy and clung to him tightly, wailing, "He's my grandson! You can't take my grandson away!"

"Bullshit!" Zhou Zikang tried yanking his hand free twice but couldn't. He shot a glance at the scarred man, "He's my aunt's son! I lived under the same roof with him for years! How could I mistake him?!"

"You crazy old woman! You must've kidnapped my cousin while my aunt and uncle weren't paying attention! Thank heaven I found you, or this tragedy would have been unstoppable!" Zhou Zikang's rage was barely contained. The scarred man stepped forward and reached for the boy in the old woman's arms.

Zhao Dashan didn't know what was happening, but he saw the man grab the boy's arm tightly, not caring that the child's bones were fragile and could snap. The boy cried out in pain, the old woman also cried, holding on for dear life.

One pulled hard, the other clutched desperately. The child in between could escape neither, his cries turning into screams.

Zhao Dashan was a father himself—how could he bear to watch? He tossed the broadsword to his second brother, rushed over, shoved the scarred man aside, and before the old woman could grab the boy again, he used his brute strength to wrench her arms apart and forcibly took the child.

"Give me back my grandson!" the old woman wailed, grabbing at his pants.

"What are you grabbing, what are you pulling?! You'll break the boy's arms!" Zhao Dashan's voice boomed, startling everyone into silence.

He turned to Zhou Zikang, who was massaging his wrist with a gloomy face, and said bluntly, "As a cousin, shouldn't you protect him? Instead, you let someone pull him to death! What kind of cousin are you?!"

Then he turned and scolded the old woman: "Whether you're a child trafficker or not, it's not up to you to decide. We'll ask the child!"

"Now you, kid," he said, looking down at the boy in his arms, pointing at the two, "Do you know them? Is he your cousin? Is she your grandmother?"

Chen Ping'an, held by him, suddenly burst into tears: "Dad, I want Dad!"

"Oh, you kid, we're trying to find your relatives here!" Zhao Dashan was flustered, "Stop crying already! Why're you crying? Just talk!"

Old Man Zhao, holding his daughter, walked over and reached out to push aside the boy's tangled hair, carefully examining his features. At first glance, the boy was as thin as a stick, nothing like the chubby, wealthy child he remembered. But upon closer inspection, his features matched—though his spirit lacked the vigor that used to pierce the heavens.

He wiped his rough, calloused thumb across the boy's face, making the boy stop crying—it stung.

"Kid, let me ask you, are you called Ping'an?" Old Man Zhao put on what he thought was a kind smile, speaking in their hometown dialect, "Is your hometown in Lukou Town? Do you have a portly father, a loving mother, and a cousin who abandoned you in the crowd when you fled?"

The familiar dialect and tone, although slightly different in pronunciation, were understandable. Chen Ping'an immediately forgot the pain, a wave of indescribable warmth washing over him. He wasn't afraid anymore.

When the old man mentioned his parents, his eyes immediately filled with tears. When he mentioned being abandoned by his cousin, he remembered what his father had said, and tears streamed down: "Dad said cousin is a snake in the grass. He took advantage of the chaos to steal our family's silver and my mother's gold jewelry locked in her box. He's not my cousin anymore. Dad won't let me recognize him."

"My name is Ping'an. Dad said our family is rich enough, I don't need to suffer. He only wished me peace, not wealth, so he gave me this name." Though young, he spoke clearly.

He looked at Old Man Zhao with confusion—a stranger he didn't remember seeing, not any poor relative who used to come begging: "My home is in Lukou Town. Do you know my father?"

"No," Old Man Zhao shook his head. It was too chaotic back then. After being abandoned, the child just cried. Even if he had seen his old face in a hurry, he probably wouldn't remember. "That's not important. Let me ask you, where are your parents? Why aren't they with you? And this old woman, is she a kidnapper? She says you're her grandson, that she gave you a cake and you agreed to be her grandson. Is that true?"

Thinking of the disasters after leaving home, Chen Ping'an felt scared and miserable, wiping his tears: "Bandits captured my mother, and all the servants died. My father took me to escape. We ran and ran, I don't know how far. We were hungry and cold. Dad took me to buy food, but when I turned around, he was gone. I couldn't find him. I was so hungry. Granny gave me a cake and called me Zhuer, and said I should be her grandson. I didn't want to be her grandson, but I was so hungry. Only if I became her grandson could I survive. Oh, I want my father, I want my mother, but she's been captured, and my father is gone."

Bandits…

Old Man Zhao guessed that his mother had been captured by bandits from Wuling Mountain. The servants hadn't survived the chaos. Lukou Town is near Xinping County. To leave Qingzhou Prefecture, the safest route would be through Xinping and into Wuling Mountain.

The boy's father must have been a wealthy merchant, knowledgeable enough to take the same dangerous route they had taken.

But they had bad luck with the bandits.

But hadn't they all escaped? Where did his father disappear? Where had they gotten separated?

He asked: "Where did you and your father get separated?"

As for the old woman, she must have taken advantage of the boy losing his father, using the cake to lure him. Her intentions weren't pure, but she hadn't sold him for food. In this chaotic world, bringing him along to raise him—he wasn't sure what to think.

Chen Ping'an sobbed: "We didn't have a travel permit. My father was afraid the officials would catch us, so he avoided people. We finally got here, and heard that Suiyun Town ahead didn't check permits. So he took me into town to buy steamed buns, but he never got to buy them, and then he was gone."