Chapter 92

Chapter 92

Because of the return of Bian Hong and Rong Feng, the auspicious hour for Min Family's Daya was set for high noon.

The groom from Shangyu Village went to fetch the bride with great fanfare, drums beating and gongs clanging. The musicians were no longer the sallow-faced, listless bunch who couldn't even get enough to eat in winter—they were all bursting with energy.

This was the first wedding since the spring planting, so they had to put in extra effort to secure future work.

After all, from the midsummer lull in farming to just before the autumn harvest was prime wedding season, and if they wanted to earn this wedding money, now was the time to show what they were made of.

The bridal sedan chair was newly built, plain as ever, but it scored points for its fresh, clean paint job. Bian Hong even lent Silver Frost to Daya to give her a bit of extra prestige—the horse was already wearing its red flower, so no last-minute decorating was needed.

So at the entrance to Nanqi Wazi village, folks in the distance saw the groom, a big red flower pinned to his chest, riding a tall horse at the head of a wedding procession, horns blaring and drums pounding the whole way. The guy, tanned dark from spring planting, flashed a grin full of white teeth—so wide you could see nothing but teeth, no eyes at all.

And the groom's bright red wedding outfit made him look even darker by contrast. The bride's send-off party at the Nanqi Wazi village entrance cracked up laughing, and the Min family's second son, standing out front, scratched his head—he remembered meeting this future brother-in-law a few days back, and he hadn't been this dark.

Good lord—on that horse, aside from the red outfit, the most eye-catching thing was those two rows of gleaming white teeth.

But the truth is, farmers never saw a deep tan as a bad thing. A young man's skin getting darker after spring meant he'd been out in the fields every day—proof he was strong and knew his way around farm work.

A hardworking, dependable guy like that was exactly what farming families wanted when marrying off their daughters. Marry a man, marry for food and clothes—even in lean years, at least the girl wouldn't starve.

The wedding was a total riot of noise and bustle. Every auntie and uncle, second cousins and maternal uncles, young and old—just about everyone had shown up. The crowd was loud and chaotic, and Bian Hong felt a little out of his element. He glanced up and figured Rong Feng beside him was probably even more uncomfortable.

He'd even given up on the idea of marrying Bian Hong all over again.

The last time this guy had seen this many people gathered was when they'd fought off the bandits attacking the village and led folks from several villages up into the mountains to hide. But back then, everyone was quiet as mice, barely making a sound. A crowd that big, apart from the sound of footsteps, had been almost completely silent—which is why Rong Feng had let his guard down this time.

But a wedding was nothing like that. How could people talk this much! Rong Feng looked around—not a single mouth was shut, with kids wailing and fussing thrown into the mix.

Luckily, even though the villagers didn't fear Rong Feng like they used to, they still couldn't bring themselves to shoot the breeze with him, so the two of them were spared. They just stood behind the uncle, waiting for the couple to come in and do the bows.

The groom came in through all the racket, and Daya, covered in a red bridal veil, was led out of the little room by the Min family's aunt, who'd cried her eyes red.

The couple each held one end of the same big red silk flower, knelt down, and kowtowed to the parents in front of them and to Bian Hong and Rong Feng standing off to the side.

And once the bride was in the sedan chair, Uncle Min, who'd been all smiles and busy bustling around, slumped his shoulders, leaned against the courtyard gate, and quietly wiped his eyes.

No matter how tough and capable he was on a normal day, right now he was just a stooped, lonely old man.

The procession got held up a bit, though, because Silver Frost, the moment it spotted Bian Hong and Rong Feng in the courtyard, flat-out refused to follow the groom, just stood at the gate pawing the ground.

The young groom panicked a little. Horses were hard to come by these days, and his parents had been over the moon when they heard Rong Feng was lending the horse for the procession—what a status symbol! But they'd missed one thing: their son had never ridden a horse in his life. At most, back in diapers, he'd sat on the neighbor's mill donkey.

Luckily, Silver Frost was gentle and didn't give anyone a hard time—in the Tiger Guard, it had carried countless soldiers, and not all of them knew how to ride at first. But when orders came down, you got on that horse's back whether you liked it or not.

So past experience had taught Silver Frost to put up with whatever rider ended up on its back.

But now, having stayed by Bian Hong's side, eating well, and taking the occasional trip into the mountains, it had slowly figured out it wasn't a warhorse that had to obey just anyone anymore. It had a home now—it only had to listen to its own master.

Having grown a mind of its own, Silver Frost saw Bian Hong and Rong Feng and refused to budge. In the end, Bian Hong had no choice but to tag along with Rong Feng as part of the bride's side to see her off.

The groom nearly toppled off the horse in fright when he saw Rong Feng coming over to lead it. Rong Feng shot the dark-skinned kid a look of disdain with those mismatched eyes, a clear warning in his gaze.

This was a wedding procession—don't act like when you were a brat, running around in ripped open-crotch pants with snot running down your nose.

Rong Feng still remembered how, back when they were kids, this little pest had bugged him so much that he'd suddenly popped up behind him to ask what the hell he wanted. But before he could get a word out, the kid saw him and pissed his pants on the spot. That gushing sound was burned into Rong Feng's memory.

He thought, at least don't embarrass yourself—if you don't care about your own dignity, Bian Hong's cousin still has hers to worry about.

Though in Rong Feng's eyes the groom was still that embarrassing little kid from childhood, in reality, among the young men of several villages, he was a real man, respected by everyone.

The groom quickly straightened up and, over the deafening drums and gongs, bowed several times to Rong Feng, who was leading the horse, then puffed out his chest and stared straight ahead.

The kid was pretty sincere too—he was thinking he ought to properly thank Brother Rong for bailing him out. He was marrying Daya today!

When the procession got close to the entrance of Shangyu Village, Bian Hong glanced back and saw Rong Feng leading Silver Frost, dressed in plain black, standing silently beside the groom up on the horse.

The two were standing way too close, and the contrast was just brutal.

Rong Feng stood taller than even Silver Frost's towering back, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, with a ramrod-straight posture and the presence of a trained fighter. And his face—sharp features, cold expression, but drop-dead handsome.

Wasn't this straight-up stealing the groom's spotlight? Rong Feng would never notice something so mundane. The fact that he'd agreed to lead the horse was already something the groom could brag about for ages.

So Bian Hong cleared his throat and called out to Rong Feng in a low voice.

"Hey!"

Even with all the racket and Bian Hong's quiet voice, Rong Feng's ears perked up, and he looked over at Bian Hong right away. Then that cold face of his suddenly cracked into a smile.

Those mismatched brown-and-blue eyes curved into crescents, brimming with warmth.

Damn. Smiling made him even better-looking.

Bian Hong took one look and felt his heart go all tingly and numb. He quickly waved the guy over.

Rong Feng forgot all about the horse, dropped the reins, and strode straight over to Bian Hong. His tall frame loomed over Bian Hong in an instant, and he bent down, leaning in close to murmur in his ear.

"What's wrong?"

Bian Hong reached out and tugged Rong Feng behind the crowd. "Let's step aside for a sec."

Rong Feng looked down at Bian Hong's hand gripping his as they slipped away from the crowd, thinking he was about to whisper something sweet. He was pleasantly shocked—this man never got affectionate in public. What was this, the sun coming up from the west?

Silver Frost, which Rong Feng had been leading the whole way, knew Bian Hong was close by and had calmed down, placidly carrying the clueless "big lump of charcoal" on its back toward the Shangyu Village wedding party.

As for the two stragglers at the very back of the procession, nobody paid them any attention. Bian Hong relaxed, figuring he'd just keep a low profile and trail along.

Who knew the guy would bend down, pucker up, and lean in for a kiss.

Bian Hong jumped and reached out, pinching Rong Feng's lips shut mid-approach.

"What the hell are you doing! In front of everyone—you wanna get yourself killed?"

Rong Feng looked a little wronged. He thought, if you won't let me kiss you, then why'd you sneak me off to the side?

But he couldn't talk with his mouth pinched shut. Those deep, sea-blue eyes just kept staring at Bian Hong. And his eyelashes were ridiculously long—when he blinked, they fluttered like little fans.

Bian Hong pressed his lips together, let go, and kept pulling the guy along, but his face was a bit flushed.

"You—wait till we get home to kiss."

The second Rong Feng heard that, a shiver shot through his whole body, a jolt of heat rising from the soles of his feet straight to his skull. He wished he could find a haystack right then, drag Bian Hong over, rip his clothes off, and go to town.

He'd been holding out way too long—either trekking through the wilderness, dealing with the floodwaters at Erl Longkou, or finally meeting up with his master and uncle, leaving zero time for any hanky-panky. Every day his master chased him around, whacking welts all over his head with Yunjie.

But he'd only just gotten a taste of the goods, and his self-control was hanging by a thread. With Bian Hong constantly in his line of sight, every time a thought popped up, he just had to grit his teeth and tough it out. Every morning when he woke up, his pants were just about splitting at the crotch.

Rong Feng sometimes wondered—how come Bian Hong never thought about that stuff? He thought about it all the time, so much that even food didn't taste right anymore.

Is my technique just not good enough? Maybe I didn't do a good job pleasing him.

Looks like those books aren't enough. I'll have to do more research when I get back.

Bian Hong walked ahead, feeling a creepy sensation crawling up his back. He glanced back at Rong Feng and saw the man lost in thought.

That was unusual for him. Perhaps due to his martial arts training, Rong Feng not only had boundless energy but also possessed an astonishingly sharp focus—able to take in everything around him, snapping to alert at the slightest disturbance.

Now the man wasn't just spacing out—his eyes were lighting up more and more. Bian Hong even thought they were glowing with a hungry green light, like a wild wolf in the mountains.

Bian Hong waved his hand in front of the man's face. "What are you thinking about?"

Rong Feng hadn't snapped out of it yet. He instinctively grabbed the hand and tugged it toward his mouth. Bian Hong instantly realized what he was up to, yanked his hand free, and smacked him with the back of his hand.

Only then did Rong Feng catch on, but he didn't say a word—just grinned at Bian Hong.

By then, the wedding party from the village had already come out to receive them, and they were about to enter the village. Bian Hong didn't have time to mess around with this. "Hurry up, the ceremony's about to start."

So the two quietly trailed at the back of the procession, hoping to just watch the ceremony in peace. But that wasn't happening—the groom's family dragged both Bian Hong and Rong Feng, as guests from the bride's side, over to seats of honor.

After all they'd been through over the years, the villagers had not only let go of their old misunderstandings about Rong Feng but had also come to feel grateful and respectful toward him.

If Bian Hong and Rong Feng were to raise their arms and rally the people at the foot of Miemeng Mountain right now, they'd probably have more pull than the village heads.

Rong Feng was slowly getting used to this shift.

But he held Bian Hong's hand the whole time, from start to finish.

Finally, they took their seats at the banquet and drank the wine the newlyweds offered them.

Rong Feng sat in the lively, almost rowdy courtyard, glancing around. Every villager's face seemed familiar. That's just how people are—even if you don't bother to remember, after seeing each other long enough, you end up knowing everyone.

His master had once said that before he'd even truly entered the world, he'd already isolated himself, living apart and stuck in his ways—that wasn't true detachment, just avoidance.

He hadn't understood those words back then, but over this past year, they'd slowly started to make sense.

The person beside him picked up a piece of crispy fried pork with his chopsticks and dropped it into his bowl. "Eat up. Their family makes this really well."

Rong Feng smiled, feeling as though a long-carried burden had lightened a little in his chest. The blaring drums and the noisy chatter of the feast became a bit more tolerable. He took a bite of what Bian Hong had given him, tasted it, and nodded.

"It is pretty good."

Bian Hong smiled with his eyes crinkled. "Right?"

He'd ask the head chef for the recipe one of these days. The banquet was hosted jointly by both families, and Yuan Ding and Guan Bao had stayed behind to eat at the Min place. So he'd go back and learn to make it himself—for the kids, and for Little Bear too. Silver Frost didn't eat meat, so he'd make extra and bring it up the mountain as an offering to the Mountain Lord of Miemeng.

Counting on his fingers, there were quite a few people and animals to keep in mind. Bian Hong shook his head with a sigh, then bowed his head and focused on eating.

At a big feast like this, you had to eat fast, or there'd be nothing left. He and Rong Feng had been on the road for days, so a home-cooked meal was a rare treat, and they savored it.

But with so many people, close or not, there was plenty of gossip—from flood prevention all the way down to which young wife had gotten new clothes.

Bian Hong was almost impressed. One mouth, eating while also serving as an "intelligence hub"—what a remarkable skill.

And amid the noise, Rong Feng's ear perked up. He set down his chopsticks and strained to listen.

"Hey, did you hear? Those families over at Sun Family Shack—all of them got killed."

"I know about that. My old third uncle found out. He'd arranged to deliver wine there at the end of the month, but no one came to meet him. When he went over, the door was open and nobody was inside. He turned the place upside down looking. Guess where he finally found them?"

"Where?"

"In a dirt pit behind the house. Maybe the heavy rains washed away the dirt covering the bodies. My third uncle said that young Sun wife was on top, naked, her body snapped and bent nearly in half, eyes wide open even in death. One arm was sticking straight out of the mud pit! Scared my third uncle so bad his legs gave out right then and there."

"Oh my god, what a tragedy. I heard even the baby who'd just turned a month old wasn't spared—its skull was smashed to pieces. When the coroner examined it, the brains had all drained out. The Sun boys and men—their heads were hacked off with a shovel."

"God damn it. Did they catch the killer?"

"How could they? The rain washed away all the traces. And with the mountains right behind, if someone hid in there, would you dare go chasing after them?"

"What kind of shovel is that powerful, to chop a person's head clean off?"

"No idea. That's all my third uncle told me. He got called in for questioning, and that's how he learned all this."

Still, since it was a wedding banquet, the few men huddled in the corner didn't say more, not wanting to ruin the host family's festive mood.

The place was loud, and Bian Hong didn't have the knack for picking out specific voices and zeroing in on them in a crowd. He just watched Rong Feng's face grow darker, even the blue of his eye turning paler.

Usually, when that happened, Rong Feng was either pissed off or ready to kill.

But Bian Hong didn't push it. There was always a reason at times like this. He just needed to stay by the man's side.

Sure enough, after the feast ended, Rong Feng slipped away from the crowd, leading Bian Hong to trail after a certain man. At a crossroads, he stepped forward and blocked the man's path.

The man startled at first. Honestly, the recent Sun Family Shack business had him spooked, terrified he might suffer a similar brutal end.

But when he saw it was Rong Feng and Bian Hong, he relaxed, patting his chest.

He himself wasn't sure when he'd stopped fearing Rong Feng and started feeling safe instead. People really do change.

"Oh, it's Uncle Rong and Auntie! You scared me."

Bian Hong suddenly felt the meal he'd just eaten sit heavy in his stomach. Right—he'd almost forgotten. With Rong Feng's high standing in the family hierarchy, that made him, by extension, "Auntie" to nearly the entire younger generation of the village.

Rong Feng didn't waste words. "The Sun Family Shack matter. Tell me everything."

The man immediately understood what was going on and first urged Rong Feng to stay out of it. The killer was terrifying—worse than bandits. Even the coroner had vomited when opening the mass grave.

But after a few exchanges, seeing the calm yet fierce and sharp look in Rong Feng's eyes, he had no choice but to recount everything he knew in full detail.

As they parted ways, the man kept urging them, "Uncle, Auntie, be careful now. If anything happens, remember to call for us."

Though he might not dare to step forward himself, at least he could show up for moral support.

Back at the Min household, Yuan Ding and Guan Bao had grabbed for lucky money and rolled on the bed, tiring themselves out thoroughly. They'd fallen asleep right in Daya's old room. Bian Hong asked Min Baigui to keep an eye on them, and when the kids woke up the next day, they could ride Silver Frost and Little Bear back.

Little Bear was a different beast now—its size and massive claws were quite intimidating. Even Silver Frost, few could get close to. The bear had killed more men than some new soldiers might have. And Yuan Ding had taken well to learning martial arts from Rong Feng, who said the boy had talent. Now he could wield a staff with fierce, whistling strikes. So Bian Hong wasn't worried about their safety.

Before leaving, Bian Hong peeked through the doorway. Yuan Ding and Guan Bao were mixed in with the Min family's three kids, arms and legs sprawled every which way, indistinguishable from one another. They seemed to be getting along well.

He sighed. Especially Yuan Ding, who was older and remembered things clearly—after all the cruelty he'd witnessed in the plague and on the refugee trail from home, he'd finally started to move past it. He attended the village school and had made new friends.

Kids would grow up in their own time. Bian Hong just hoped they'd be healthy and happy.

Which made the massacre at Sun Family Shack all the more heartbreaking—five children had died alone.

The harsh years of the past few seasons had already taken so many children. Every village had few kids, and any who survived were kept alive through immense effort and sacrifice by their families.

On the way home, Bian Hong didn't ask about anything else. He only said, "How do we investigate?"

Rong Feng composed himself. "Since it happened near Miemeng Mountain, it falls within my jurisdiction. I'm afraid I'll need to make a trip to the Sun family's shack."

Bian Hong nodded. He knew that even if it weren't at the foot of the mountain, Rong Feng would still go upon hearing of such a tragedy. His sense of justice and abhorrence of evil were half inherited from the Mountain Guard lineage, and half innate.

Bian Hong was not afraid of trouble, nor of danger. The first half of his life had been spent clawing his way through enormous troubles and dangers.

The experience of surviving told him: when faced with difficulties or problems, don't hesitate—raise your blade and charge straight in.

In a narrow encounter, the brave prevail.

Rong Feng reached out and touched Bian Hong's stern, sharp-featured face. At this moment, he believed that there truly could be someone in this world born to be his other half—only when pressed together did their souls and bodies feel whole.

Back home, the two got ready and headed for the Sun family's shack that very day.

But they were stopped as they opened the back door.

The back room they occupied had a large deck, with the door looking out onto the layered peaks of Miemeng Mountain. But ever since the Little Mountain Lord had left, there usually weren't any large wild animals around.

Today, however, a monkey with a brilliant golden coat sat on a small hillock not far away, quietly gazing at the two of them.

It followed the forest's rules, never approaching human dwellings too closely—not even the home of Mountain Guard Rong Feng, who lived alone on the small peak.

The old monkey's features were so distinctive that even Bian Hong recognized it at a glance.

"It's the Old Monkey King!"

Rong Feng nodded, then led Bian Hong as they swiftly leaped down from the deck and headed toward the small hillock.

The Monkey King wouldn't easily leave the forest depths and its clan to come to the edge and seek out Rong Feng unless something was wrong.

The Old Monkey King's shoulders and head were covered with fallen leaves and debris—it must have been waiting at the forest's edge for a long time.

Its eyes held the wisdom of years. As the leader of its troop, it relied not merely on brute force, but far more on intelligence.

When the Old Monkey King saw Rong Feng and Bian Hong, it let out a low "oo-oo-ah-ah" in greeting. Bian Hong saw it looked calm and breathed a sigh of relief—he'd feared the troop was in danger again.

But clearly not. After they'd exchanged greetings, the Old Monkey King lowered its head and unclasped its arms from its chest.

When it opened its embrace, Bian Hong was astonished. Tucked beneath the Old Monkey King's thick fur, clinging to its chest, was a tiny monkey.

The little monkey was so small—it seemed only a few months old. It clutched the old monkey's fur timidly, then turned its head and stared at the two humans with wide eyes.

The old monkey patted its head, then without hesitation placed the little monkey into Bian Hong's arms. Bian Hong instinctively reached out to catch it, and only then noticed the little monkey had been born without a tail, and one of its feet was slightly deformed. It could walk, but it could never climb trees.

But a monkey that can't climb trees—how would it find food? How would it survive?

That was exactly the Old Monkey King's point. Every new life in the troop deserved to be cherished, even this little one that would most likely not survive and was destined to starve.

But it just couldn't bear it. After mulling it over, it decided to bring the little monkey to Rong Feng.

"Humans" were creatures that didn't need to climb trees to get food. If this little monkey wanted to live, staying by the Mountain Guard's side was probably its best bet.

Moreover, after seeing the bear cub that Bian Hong had taken from the rocky crags, the Old Monkey King was very confident.

If they were willing to raise that thing, they'd certainly take in a well-behaved, pretty little cub from its own clan.

And as the Old Monkey King had expected, Rong Feng—raised in the mountains—and his kind-hearted companion gladly accepted this slightly disabled infant monkey, and seemed to genuinely dote on it.

The Old Monkey King was relieved. Then it reached out and patted the little one quietly nestled in Bian Hong's arms.

But even after handing over the little monkey, the Old Monkey King didn't leave. It communicated seriously with Rong Feng about certain matters, using the tacit understanding they'd built over many years.

Bian Hong couldn't understand the Old Monkey King's gestures, but then Rong Feng frowned and nodded. The Old Monkey King then went back into the forest, and after a moment, returned with a strangely shaped shovel.

The shovel was tightly wrapped in a big lotus leaf, and its tip still had dried bloodstains.

Bian Hong abruptly stepped forward. The little monkey in his arms quickly twisted its tiny head around, looking around in confusion. Bian Hong calmed himself, reached down to support the little monkey's tailless bottom, and patted its head to comfort it.

After handing over the shovel, the Old Monkey King finally got up and headed back. In a moment, its golden figure disappeared into the deep forest.

The two carried the little monkey back into the house. Rong Feng went to open the basket of old things and pulled out three shovels from inside.

He brought them out to compare—they were identical.

Gripping hard, Rong Feng snapped one of the three shovels in half with his bare hands.

"The Old Monkey King says—someone's entered the mountain."