Chapter 72

“Wait, wait!” Yan Ji jolted forward, arms raised to halt both sides. “Mistake! All a mistake! Don’t rush—”

“I’m perfectly calm!” Chen Shu called over her shoulder. “You talk to them… oh, and to this man I’ve caught!”

With just one hand, she pinned the armored man’s arms flat to the mud. His face ground against a half-unearthed severed hand. Amid his futile twists, the decayed fingers snagged his collar and rose slightly with each struggle—as though they were truly lurching from the earth to seize him.

To the veteran soldier, this was terror incarnate. As he squirmed more fiercely under Chen Shu, he gasped incoherent curses, thick accent rendering him unintelligible.

She cocked her head, baffled by a few syllables. Leaning closer to his lips, she reminded kindly, “No need to rush. Speak slower!”

Yet her grip remained tight—how could he speak slowly? It choked his fury to wordless coughs. Hearing this, the other soldiers froze. They thought Chen Shu’s one-handed press had drawn blood from his lungs. Halberds raised, they ignored Yan Ji’s cries and shouted at Chen Shu, “Release him! Thief! Surrender—you’re surrounded!”

“Thief?” Chen Shu bristled. She jerked her chin up. Her hand clenched harder on instinct, silencing even the gagged soldier’s breath. Flailing, he pawed the empty air as she retorted sharply in the dark, “You’re the thieves! Ganging up against one person, bullying civilians! Condemning us without a word—don’t you have manners?!”

Despite her hand crushing a life below, her words echoed with the conviction of Shen Jie or Yun Shen in a quarrel. “Thief” and “manners,” though still childlike, struck a nerve. The soldiers faltered, stepping back.

“You—you twist words!” someone muttered.

They huddled, hesitant, conferring if they’d truly captured the wrong person.

Amid the silence, Li Chou rushed forward. He gasped at Chen Shu’s captive. “Heavens—he’s suffocating!”

Chen Shu glanced down. The soldier’s eyes had rolled back. Unmoving. Out cold. Only his chest fluttered faintly. Releasing him, she grimaced at her open palm as if touching filth, whispering:

“…So fragile, yet still doing crimes?”

Her voice felt like thunder in the death-hushed night. The soldiers recoiled again in silent dread. One stepped up, the cleverest, realizing they couldn’t overpower her. Voice quivering, he played along, “If you say you’re not thieves, why come to this grave slope at dead of night?”

“I’m capturing people,” Chen Shu said. She glanced back as Li Chou and Yan Ji edged closer behind her, puffing her chest. “You? What are you doing here? I heard someone’s been sneaking out at midnight—plotting evil under moonless skies—”

“We… we’re also capturing thieves,” the soldier stammered. “We’ve waited here nightly for them to appear!”

“Truth?” Chen Shu scowled. “You ambushed here nightly. Yet caught no one? Have you no warrant? Or did you steal my mission?!” Her eyes flared as she stabbed a finger at them. The spokesman shrank back, halting mid-step.

Yan Ji chuckled. Gently pushing her accusing arm down, he said, “Don’t flare. Let them speak. Sirs, we three did hear of figures sneaking out at night. We hid here to apprehend them for questioning. Proof exists. Here—”

As he spoke, Yan Ji didn’t stop moving. He hauled Li Chou, who was focused on the unconscious soldier, to his feet. His voice lowered, he hissed viciously, “This mess started with you,” then shoved Li Chou forward in front of Chen Shu and said, “— See this man? He is the Young Valley Master of Biyang Valley! He’s the one who gave us the lead, and every disciple under Biyang Valley’s banner can attest to it. We’re at a loss as to why you all…”

Though Li Chou’s frame wasn’t particularly broad, it was more than enough to shield Chen Shu. Pushed forward like this, he blocked most of Chen Shu’s body. The soldiers opposite them, as one, visibly relaxed. Exchanging glances, one finally summoned the courage to reply.

“…How do we know if what you say is real? I’ve seen the Young Valley Master of Biyang Valley before. When he came searching, he wore pristine white robes and his conduct was forthright and open. He certainly wasn’t covered in dirt like this…”

Li Chou, sporting a face smeared with dust and mud, inwardly seethed. Yet, helplessly acknowledging this was indeed the trouble he’d brought on himself by involving Chen Shu, he could only swallow his frustration and respond, “…It is indeed me. I, Li Chou of Biyang Valley, sensed something amiss these past two days, which is why I sought someone out today to take a discreet look. Might I ask whose orders you’re following? Why are you lying in ambush here?”

Emboldened by her initial “victory,” Chen Shu fancied her debating skills had improved again. She popped her head out from behind Li Chou once more, practically itching to speak.

Li Chou, in front, couldn’t see her movement. He only saw the soldiers conferring amongst themselves, preparing another response. Then, one of them glanced their way and instantly looked ready to faint with fright, stopping his companions and shuffling further back. Without even turning, Li Chou guessed that Chen Shu had poked her head out again. He blocked her with his arm, which seemed to steady the soldiers’ nerves slightly. He heard one cautiously pipe up.

“We… we’re here on General Liu Mao’s orders… to lie in ambush… The General didn’t explain to us who we were supposed to catch…”

“Liu Mao?” Li Chou’s brows knitted together as he repeated the name. This movement broke his arm’s barrier, and Chen Shu instantly shot out fully from behind him like an eagle spotting a rabbit—

“Really? Liu Mao?— If you can’t explain clearly, what’s the point of wasting time here? Arrest us and take us to him! I want a clear explanation!”

As she spoke, she even raised her hands helpfully, signaling the soldiers to cuff her. But considering the ferocity she’d displayed moments ago—with their unconscious comrade still sprawled amongst the corpses—that harmless act and her wide, lively eyes only deepened the soldiers’ terror. They dared not take a single step forward.

Yan Ji chuckled and patted Chen Shu’s shoulder.

“See that? You made someone faint by accident,” he swayed to their side, throwing an arm around each of them, and said, “Now, who’d dare come ‘arrest’ us?”

“Was it my accident?” Chen Shu protested, becoming increasingly aggrieved. “Even if I share a tiny fraction of fault… but fainting? That was clearly because he couldn’t handle a little fright and just keeled over immediately! I hadn’t even moved to do anything! How can that possibly be my fault?!”

—-

“It truly isn’t the fault of you three wandering swordsmen.” Liu Mao took a deep breath and threw the letter in his hand onto the mountain of papers in front of him. Pausing for a moment as if to rein in his emotions, he then forced a smile, stood up, and said, “This matter was a lack of caution on my part. I failed to consider that this city hides many people of remarkable skill. No matter how well my soldiers hid, they were bound to be discovered…”

“By your own words,” Yan Ji said, “it’s evident these men were indeed under your command to guard that pile of unwanted corpses… What for?”

Liu Mao hesitated, then said slowly, “…This pertains to a critical investigation I am undertaking. I must beg your understanding that the details cannot be disclosed.”

“Disclosure is unnecessary,” Li Chou said. The black smudges remained starkly visible on his face—exactly like the two parallel, claw-mark-like streaks Chen Shu had left. They stood out unnervingly in the candlelight, drawing sidelong glances from the guards on duty. Yan Ji’s lips twitched as if stifling a laugh. Li Chou himself maintained a stern visage, trying to muster the former dignity of the “Young Valley Master,” and continued, “Consider it that we apprehended some suspicious soldiers outside the city. We’re here confronting you, General, demanding an explanation. That’s not unreasonable, is it?”

“… This touches upon the flooding that happened days ago,” Liu Mao glanced at Li Chou and was silent for a while before speaking. “It’s not that I refuse to give you all an explanation. It’s that the matter itself remains unresolved, a fog of uncertainty even to me. How could I offer you all a clear account?”

The room suddenly fell silent. Only the candle flame flickered, stirred by the draught. Like the first glimmers of dawn, its light swayed erratically within the chamber, making the indistinct shadows of the people on the wall stretch and shrink unpredictably. Though the candle burned fiercely, it only heightened the oppressive, eerie atmosphere of this cramped study. The wind gusting through the window carried sharp, icy threads of cold. Chen Shu abruptly spoke out.

From the moment they’d entered until now, she’d been uncharacteristically silent. Until this moment.

“The person you wanted to catch was someone going to secretly sift through the corpses outside the city, correct? Right at dusk?” She stared at Liu Mao, her eyes shining with an inexpressible clarity, brighter than the candlelight. “General Liu, you needn’t explain the entire back story to us. Just answer one thing—Why did you send men to stand guard outside the city?

“In other words—” her words sliced cleanly through, “how did you know the thief you wanted to catch intended to go rifling through corpses outside the city?”