Chapter 65

From afar, among the rugged mountain peaks, a wisp of smoke spiraled upward, gradually fading as the sky absorbed it. It merged into the lofty azure that remained untainted by dusk. The mountains and forests were utterly still. The usual clamor was swallowed by the dense, overlapping layers of autumn leaves, muffling even the occasional murmur of life rising from the woods below. If someone stood outside the forest depths, perhaps upon the embankment, they wouldn’t be able to distinguish the fragmented sounds drifting from within.

The only discernible movements were those of Shen Jie and Chen Shu entering the woods. After some time, a few indistinct muffled cries arose, followed shortly by the distinct sound of footsteps emerging from the forest. Unlike the entry, however, along with two pairs of footsteps came a third, distinctly non-human rhythm—the unmistakable trot of a horse.

Only as the two women reached the forest’s edge did their voices finally become clear enough to travel through the trees. Their footfalls drew closer, bringing the clarity of their conversation.

“…I’ve seen that pattern before, seen it on the bodies of certain suspects,” Shen Jie said. She led the horse along, the beast laden with a grim burden. Slung across the saddle was a bundle made of Shen Jie’s own outer robe, containing the collected, painstakingly gathered fragments of the charred corpse. The robe, stretched taut, only just covered the bulk of the remains. From gaps in the fabric, occasional glimpses were afforded: an incompletely blackened toe, or stray clumps of singed, brittle hair no longer attached to any scalp.

Chen Shu walked behind, idly kicking fallen leaves as they went. “Can every villain in the Valley of Villains possibly have this branded on them? If so, that’d just be foolish!”

“Of course not every one has it. Otherwise, the jianghu wouldn’t be plagued by so many unresolved feuds,” Shen Jie replied. They finally cleared the trees’ boundaries, stepping fully into the generous light of the setting sun. She glanced back over her shoulder at the bundle secured to the horse before continuing, “But every member of the Valley of Villains I’ve personally seen bearing such a mark… most were remarkably agile, possessed outstanding martial skills, and were utterly resolute—ruthless with cruel hearts. Even the most terrifying interrogation techniques failed to extract useful information from them. Several wouldn’t utter the words ‘Valley of Villains’ at all. Which is why I suspect… this mark probably isn’t something a mere minion within the valley would be permitted to bear…”

“So… this dam breach disaster,” Chen Shu asked bluntly, her clear voice resonating in the valley below. The light was now stained with crimson. Outside the city walls, no one else was in sight; even the mud Puddles at the base of the embankment reflected golden light. Shen Jie didn’t stop her, her goal already achieved. She merely turned her head with a smile, indulging Chen Shu’s continued crisp questioning, “…this was the doing of the Valley of Villains?”

Shen Jie gave a sharp burst of laughter. “You’re still stuck on General Liu, are you?”

“I remember every person AJie ever suspected!” Chen Shu declared, tapping her own temple. She tilted her head back slightly, her loose hair swaying as she tossed it – even more triumphantly than the horse’s tail. “AJie, be honest with me now. Isn’t it just because you argued with him fiercely several times that day, making him seem utterly hateful, and so he became your first suspect?”

Shen Jie paused at this. She laughed, throwing her head back twice before shaking it in disbelief.

“Oh? Taking lessons learned directly from my teaching these past days and applying them to guess my own thoughts?” she retorted, slowing her pace. She reached out, giving Chen Shu’s top knot a swift, firm rub, drawing an immediate “Ow!” before retracting her hand in satisfaction. “—Maybe a little! I’m not a god, after all; being human means prejudice can blind me too. But my initial doubt regarding General Liu… the reason wasn’t merely emotion clouding reason due to some argument. It’s because he happened to be present on the Sword Discussion Platform that very day… and also because, having a measure of his character, I know this: it aligns suspiciously well with the personality of one who would commit such an audacious harm.”

“Then now?” Chen Shu pressed.

“Do you believe the Valley of Villains is truly behind this?” Shen Jie countered, turning her face slightly to cast a sidelong glance at Chen Shu as she leisurely lifted the reins, urging the horse forward at a slow pace.

“Could it not be?” Chen Shu followed, bewildered, asking, “Didn’t we already apprehend whoever destroyed the dam? Though in his current state, he can’t reveal much, it’s obvious he’s the one who sabotaged the Yingqiu Weir. That County Security Official is somewhat of a witness, right? Shouldn’t questioning him wrap up this case?”

“In his current state, he truly can’t reveal a thing?” Shen Jie inquired, her expression curious.

Chen Shu froze, her cheeks flushing rapidly crimson. She protested in a low voice, “We practice swordsmanship! We’re not shamans performing rituals! I know perfectly well the dead can’t be brought back to life!”

Whether that flush was from anger or embarrassment, it was dazzlingly vivid, coaxing another amused laugh from Shen Jie, who then turned her head forward. “Then let’s provisionally assume the Valley of Villains did it for now! Come, walk me through it again – The Valley of Villains dispatched an agent, having somehow learned the date of the Sword Discussion Tournament’s climax. He raced for hundreds of miles just to unleash a catastrophic deluge precisely during the final bout, all so someone up on the Sword Discussion Platform could ensure their survival – Correct?”

As she spoke, the playful flicker in Shen Jie’s eyes as she looked at Chen Shu unintentionally intensified, causing the blush on Chen Shu’s face to deepen to an even richer crimson. Chen Shu stared at Shen Jie, her mouth agape for a moment as if poised to answer, but then hesitated. Her nose wrinkled in frustration as she bowed her head to ponder deeply. A little while later, she raised her head again to scrutinize Shen Jie’s expression suspiciously.

How worldly was Shen Jie? She wouldn’t let a slip show for a young girl like Chen Shu to notice. Of course, Chen Shu detected nothing out of the ordinary. She answered morosely.

“…Not correct?”

“Where isn’t it correct?” Shen Jie didn’t relent, immediately pressing further.

“That Valley of Villains treats life like dirt. Even someone marked like him, a formidable martial artist, they burned to death without a shred of hesitation. Naturally…” As Chen Shu spoke, inexplicable confidence surged within her, and she declared loudly, “Naturally they wouldn’t launch such a precisely timed attack just to save one person’s life, specifically waiting until the tournament day!”

“Well said!” Shen Jie responded. She paused briefly, then continued, picking up Chen Shu’s thread. “Furthermore, the saboteur rushed straight here, clearly having learned the tournament date in advance to time the deluge. While Fangcheng to Yingqiu is under a hundred li—destroying the Yingqiu Weir would be relatively easy — Diancang Pass is heavily guarded! It’s a mountain pass after all! How could a Valley of Villains agent infiltrate the Diancang Pass magistracy beforehand to steal the Sword Discussion Tournament schedule? That was precisely my initial doubt about the Valley being implicated.”

“But… but,” Chen Shu stammered twice, thoroughly tangled by the logic, “if, like A-Jie says, the mastermind behind this isn’t Liu Mao, nor is it the Valley of Villains, then who else could it be?”

“I offered one answer: it might not be Liu Mao. But I didn’t say it definitely wasn’t the Valley of Villains,” Shen Jie clarified. She stopped walking, her hand smoothing the horse’s sleek back as she turned around. Her face, under the sunlight, seemed to glow with a faintly yellowish halo. A moment of silence followed before her firm voice cut through it,

“…Isn’t it possible there’s more than one force involved?”

As these words settled slowly, Chen Shu’s eyes grew wider and wider. Her mouth opened so broadly one could almost glimpse the sharp little fangs within.

“You mean… meaning—the perpetrators included the Valley of Villains, and others conspiring with them?”

“It’s merely one hypothesis. But if true, it explains how they obtained the information, and why the flood absolutely had to occur precisely on the day, and indeed the very hour, of the tournament’s climax.” Shen Jie explained steadily, “My initial deduction wasn’t wrong, nor is this later one flawed. Combining them both, everything fits perfectly—”

Shen Jie continued slowly, “——No wonder this affair felt bizarre from the very beginning. The prime movers acted both brazenly cruel and meticulously cautious—because it wasn’t one faction, but two separate groups! Different methods, different capabilities, and above all, different objectives!”

As they walked and talked animatedly, nearing the winding path they had used to leave the city earlier, the horse beside them gave a soft neigh and nudged Shen Jie’s palm with its nose. She snapped back to reality, glanced over her shoulder, and laughed in sudden realization.

“That’s right, this horse can’t fit through there.”

—

Just like the night before, they employed the same tactic: After Chen Shu whispered a few secrets into the horse’s ear, the magnificent steed obediently carried its “former owner” away to hide within the mountain forests.

By twilight, they were back at the inn. An official yamen runner already stood waiting at the entrance. Upon seeing the two women return, he welcomed them with a beaming smile, immediately asking how their day touring the city had been. Chen Shu opened her mouth to give an honest reply, but fortunately, Shen Jie stepped in. Seeing the runner had clearly waited quite a while, she understood he must have been sent from the local authorities to gather information. She deftly deflected his questions with irrelevant tidbits of their minor observations.

The yamen runner was simply following orders. Content with Shen Jie’s answers for his report, the interaction was mutually satisfactory. The three even enjoyed a hearty meal downstairs together before the sun had fully set, allowing Chen Shu and Shen Jie to head back upstairs laden not with goods, but perhaps with questions.

Shen Jie had foresight and had requested ink and paper from the innkeeper earlier. Now, she meticulously recorded the day’s findings and every bit of gathered evidence, compiling them into a document for future use. Chen Shu initially watched her diligently listing each point.

At first, Chen Shu enthusiastically reminded Shen Jie, suggesting additions here and clarifications there. Later, exhaustion took hold. Her head started bobbing drowsily towards the edge of the writing desk. Shen Jie fetched a quilt from the bed and draped it over the younger girl’s shoulders.

Oddly enough, now comfortably covered, Chen Shu seemed to regain her alertness. She blinked, her spirit apparently rousing again, and scooted closer to engage Shen Jie in sporadic conversation.

“…What’s the actual point of writing all this down?”

“I was dispatched locally to oversee judicial matters,” Shen Jie explained without looking up from her brush strokes. “The Sword Discussion Tournament has concluded. My immediate tasks are, first, to return to the capital to present my findings formally, and second…” Her voice grew somber. “…This case involves multiple parties deeply. It’s become too complex for me to investigate alone.” She added, “Therefore, requesting reinforcements from the capital becomes necessary – perhaps even dispatching troops to ultimately confront the Valley of Villains and seek justice for the innocent lives lost in—”

Suddenly her brush stopped.

“—lives.”

Mid-sentence, Shen Jie’s voice faded almost to a whisper. She lifted her head. One hand pressed her forehead, her gaze fixed intensely on the half-finished report before her. She flipped back through the previous pages, pressing her lips together tightly as she scanned from top to bottom. Her fingers clung rigidly to the coarse writing paper. An expression surfaced on her face as if struck by a hammer blow—a fissure spreading slowly through her composure. She momentarily held her breath.

The strangely suffocating pause stretched, then ended. She inhaled sharply through her nostrils. The hand resting on the desk twitched, seeming poised to slam down violently on the rickety old table, but the motion was forcibly arrested at the last moment. Instead, her knuckle tapped the wood lightly twice. Her voice turned to ice as the realization crystallized:

“The dead. The critical element isn’t the living… it’s the dead.” Her tone was sharp, decisive. “I never try to speculate on the motives of the killers. And precisely because I neglected that, I fell straight into a colossal trap! The reason the Valley loosed that overwhelming deluge… it wasn’t primarily rescue. It was to silence someone forever—”