Chapter 107 - Oddity

The sound of rain outside the tent grew softer as the curtains were lifted, allowing the warm air to circulate. In the depths of the night, the camp echoed with the howls of drunken soldiers, their shoulders intertwined as they played drinking games. Lei Changming, feeling the heat, unfastened his clothes, exposing his dark, scarred chest. Stray patches of chest hair, like untamed grass, sprouted beneath his clothing. Drunkenly, he embraced a woman, singing and dancing, and called out to Shen Zechuan, "Brother Shen, wake up!"

As the curtains swayed, a few meek-looking soldiers entered to lay out food.

Shen Zechuan partially opened his small bamboo fan and rose to his feet. The candlelight within the tent was insufficient, so he held the fan at an angle to shield the side of his face, gazing at Lei Changming as he softly said, "What kind of dance does the Chief desire to see?"

Lei Changming found Shen Zechuan truly captivating; his appearance was not only breathtaking but also strikingly vibrant, outshining everything in the room. Emboldened by alcohol, he pushed away the woman and lunged towards Shen Zechuan, only to stumble over a wine jug and land clumsily at Shen Zechuan's feet. Lei, reeking of alcohol, remained on the ground, attempting to grab hold of Shen Zechuan's robe. Failing to do so, he laughed instead.

"Ah, you smell divine," Lei Changming stretched his neck, sniffing eagerly, "So very fragrant. Brother Shen, come here and help me up. I'll dance with you, whatever you want to dance! Damn, this is what they mean by the scent of a beauty!"

Shen Zechuan glanced at him, observing him resemble a bloated, coarse-haired spider crawling on the ground, pursuing the corner of his pristine white garment. For some reason, amidst this absurd and comical moment, Shen Zechuan felt an intense repulsion that surged through him like molten lava, turning his fingers clutching the fan white.

His teacher had instructed him to leave Qidu and return to Zhongbo. The Duanzhou he once dreamed about had now fallen into the hands of such individuals. People like Lei Changming were the embodiment of malevolence, ghosts haunting the rivers.

Shen Zechuan's bamboo fan brushed against his lips, and he smiled, taking a step back. Amidst the flickering shadows and clamor, he slightly bowed, saying, "Come to me."

Lei Changming, who was about to climb up, seemed to have lost all care, scrambling towards Shen Zechuan on all fours. In his delirium, he felt as if he wasn't seeing a person but an elusive nocturnal creature. Salivating, he swallowed, only then noticing the tiny white jade earring adorning Shen Zechuan's right ear. The jade had been meticulously polished into a smooth orb, its gentle luster in the lamplight too tender. Upon Shen Zechuan's earlobe, it was the only accessory he wore, apart from his small bamboo fan.

"Brother Shen…" Lei Changming pleaded earnestly, "Quick, lend me a hand."

The soldiers bowed their heads, holding their trays, making way as if preparing to retreat. The cries and laughter of men and women sounded like the gentle rain, transforming into a distant world in Lei Changming's ears. He felt like a chained jackal, drooling, being pulled towards Shen Zechuan by an invisible force. The tent spun, leaving Lei Changming slightly dizzy, a result of drinking too much.

Brother Shen.

Lei Changming repeated the name like a prayer.

Shen Zechuan. Beauty. Brother Shen.

In his confusion, Lei Changming tugged at his open clothes, feeling the scars on his chest burn. He had never experienced this before – being awake yet seemingly asleep with his eyes wide open. Crawling forward, he finally reached what he perceived to be Shen Zechuan's feet. He lifted his head and laughed faintly, yearning to grasp the cloud-like hem of Shen Zechuan's white robe.

"A demon…." Lei Changming's hand trembled as he stretched out towards Shen Zechuan, murmuring in a conciliatory tone, "How did you come to look like this…?"

In Zhongbo, Lei Changming had slaughtered countless enemies and taken numerous women by force. He had even coerced young boys. It seemed innate for someone like him to desire those precious and pure, even the innocent ones. He wanted to tear them apart, staining them with blood into a mess. He had committed many wicked deeds, believing even ghosts would avoid him. He was fearless when it came to karma – they could sleep soundly despite their wrongdoings, still dreaming of boundless wealth and glory. They never recalled the bodies they had trampled upon, those people like clouds, untouchable and now forgotten.

Lei Changming's vision blurred, and Shen Zechuan's face became indistinct. The small jade pendant, however, grew clearer, transforming into a familiar little jade bead.

Little brother.

Lei Changming once deceived a child this way, pinning the child's limbs and tormenting him in the darkness of a tent. He recalled that day when he had also been drunk, his chest scar burning just as fiercely. The limbs he held were too delicate; Lei Changming was so aroused that he even wanted to break them. He exerted all his strength, watching the rosy hue turn to blue and white before they became a pile of mangled flesh.

Panting, Lei Changming lunged at Shen Zechuan several times without making contact. Struggling with a splitting headache amidst the chaotic voices, he scrambled forward, crashing into a small table, splashing wine and food onto his half-naked body. "Shen—" he shouted.

The image of the tent in Lei Changming's eyes suddenly rights itself, his face splattered with a large amount of blood. His mouth hung open, his body frozen in place, while his head tumbled away, bumping against the wooden leg of the table, a grotesquely vivid sight.

Laughter within the tent abruptly ceased. The candle flames flickered, everyone maintaining their original positions, but now stiff, lifeless. A gentle breeze wafted through the open curtains, the rain still falling, and the night grew silent like a creeping darkness, extinguishing the last of the candlelight.

Shen Zechuan placed the Yanshan Snow he had pulled from under the cushion on the tablecloth and wiped it silently. The blade peeled away the blood, leaving a long red scar on the cotton cloth. He wiped slowly, and no one noticed when he had drawn the knife, only admiring his patient cleaning.

Shen Zechuan laughed inexplicably, laughing out loud, seemingly the most unrestrained laugh in recent days. He sheathed the knife and picked up his folding fan, stepping firmly on Lei Changming's head.

"Shall we dance?" Shen Zechuan lowered his gaze, addressing Lei Changming. "Are you worthy?"

* * *

As a soldier bent to relieve himself, his throat was slit, and his body dragged into the bushes. Camp security was lax; Lei Changming's soldiers gathered in small groups beneath the watchtower, rolling dice, unaware that their numbers were dwindling unnoticed.

"Tell the cook to save some meat for us brothers. This rain is like diarrhea, making people uncomfortable. Without a drink, how unbearable!" The corporal threw the dice, looking up and shouting to someone behind him, "Go on, you do it. Standing there is just getting in the way!"

Finished speaking, he lowered his head again. They faced each other, chewing on jerky, and threw the last of their copper coins from their belt into the betting pot, both hoping for better luck.

"One stinky hand!" One of them slapped his palms together as if to dispel bad luck, rubbing and wiping his legs. "I'm done playing!"

"Hey, don't!" The other tugged at him. "What's the fun in that? When we get into the city tomorrow, won't we need money for brothels and pleasure boats? Just one more round! Your luck will turn!"

"Pah!" The one who wanted to leave spat in the other's face. "With our boss's name, do we still need money to visit brothels? Those whores aren't worth it. Paying them is giving them face! I'm afraid they'll give me some filthy disease! No more playing! I think we'll be up all night in the tent, drunk like this. We won't be able to fight tomorrow, so I'm going to sleep for a few hours."

As soon as this person turned around, he bumped into someone else. His forehead slammed against armor, and the sound stunned him. He froze for a moment before shoving the other person, cursing, "Get out of my way—"

There was a muffled puncturing sound, and before this person could react, he stumbled forward, straight as a board. Blocked by the other, he fell backward into the crowd still rolling dice. The dice scattered to the ground, and their watchmen, enraged, grabbed the man by the back of his collar, ready to hit him. But when they turned him around, they saw his bulging eyes, lifeless!

The Imperial Guards suddenly drew their swords, not giving the bandits time to respond. They struck down the man without hesitation. Blood splattered on the armor, and Tan Taihu wiped his face, shouting, "Kill!"

Without any warning from the patrol, the soldiers who had already settled down in the camp were caught off guard by the Imperial Guards' attack. Tan Taihu led his men into the tents, covering the soldiers' mouths and noses and stabbing them one by one, leaving a crimson sheet. The surviving bandits, panicked, ran out of the military tents, but received no orders. They were like headless flies, frantically fleeing in all directions in the rainy night. The camp was completely surrounded by the Imperial Guards. Experienced gangsters, recognizing the drawn swords, immediately surrendered, huddling together and kneeling in the mud, begging for mercy.

Xiao Chiye rode up on horseback, with Langtaosha's hem fluttering before the crowd. The Sea Eagle descended from the sky, landing on Xiao Chiye's shoulder, its wings folding with a chill. Xiao Chiye's robust figure was like an ink cloud blocking the light in the rain, his back to the distant and dim light of the tent. His gaze was like a knife, slicing away at the curious gazes until they vanished in panic.

Tan Taihu was counting the numbers.

Xiao Chiye turned his horse around, his shoulder already dampened by the rain. Tilting his head at a sharp angle, he stared at the silent military tent as if aware of the flesh and blood within. Shen Zechuan was not inside the tent but stood outside, holding an umbrella and gazing down at his boots stained with blood.

Xiao Chiye leaned forward, and Meng leaped onto Shen Zechuan's shoulder. Shen Zechuan raised his head, meeting Xiao Chiye's eyes directly.

"Young Master," Xiao Chiye said, gently tracing Shen Zechuan's nose with his finger, "why are you standing here in the rain all alone?"

Shen Zechuan opened his small bamboo fan and showed it to Xiao Chiye, his tone slightly aggrieved. "My fan is dirty."

There were a few drops of blood on the fan, like red plum blossoms splashed across the characters, wilting unappealingly. The calligraphy was Xiao Chiye's own. Ever since it was given to Shen Zechuan, the fan had been just as inseparable from him as the blue handkerchief.

"Interesting spots," Xiao Chiye remarked without averting his gaze from Shen Zechuan's face. "Give me this one, and I'll make you a new one."

Shen Zechuan inserted the fan into the back of Xiao Chiye's collar and nodded. Xiao Chiye smiled at him and asked, "Did you enjoy the feast?"

Shen Zechuan unfolded his umbrella, shielding both of them. "It was okay, but too noisy."

Xiao Chiye dismounted, took the umbrella, and held it only over Shen Zechuan, leaving half of his body exposed. He lifted the curtain and peered inside, then said after a moment, "Something's off about this camp."

Shen Zechuan raised his hand to cover Meng, who was attempting to fly in. "I don't think this Lei Changming is the one rumored to have subdued Duan and Dun Provinces."

Amid their conversation, they were suddenly interrupted by Tan Taihu's hurried approach. The bloodstains on the tiger's body were still visible, and his expression was grim as he bowed to them both. "Master, their numbers don't add up at all. When I questioned some of the standard bearers, they couldn't even keep track of how many men they had under them. Just now, I pressed them further, and it turns out that they are all bandits newly recruited by Lei Changming, not the troops he brought from Luo Mountain!"