Chapter Forty-Four: Blood Runs Wild

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the earth was bathed in a peaceful, warm glow. Like a sharp blade, the twilight divided day from night. Fish returned to the depths, smoke called children home, travelers hurried along; everything reverted to its original tranquility.

Villagers gathered in groups of three, chatting idly about their days, their faces lighting up with long-lost smiles.

A refreshing night breeze swept by, carrying the subtle fragrance of wildflowers and grasses, soothing the nerves taut from a day’s labor.

In front of the thatched cottage, Lin Yi paused in her work, quietly savoring the serenity bestowed by heaven and earth.

Su Bai watched the setting sun at the doorway, his expression indifferent, unconsciously murmuring, “Night closes with smoky mist over the dawn, peonies weep beneath the rain for the fading sun.”

He quickly scoffed at himself, “With troubles still unresolved, how can I afford to wax poetic? There’s so much yet to do—I’d best focus on dealing with the matters at hand.”

Yet he couldn’t help but stretch out his right hand, gently touching the crimson glow that seeped into the room.

“If these things hadn’t happened, life would be quite good,” Su Bai sighed. “Turns out, crossing into the past to achieve glory as a lord is nothing but a lie.”

As he drifted into contemplation, a soft voice called him back, “It’s time for your medicine.”

Su Bai blinked, startled from his reverie, and looked at Lin Yi, who had awakened him. Seeing the concern in her eyes, he nodded and took the herbal decoction from her hands.

The familiar, bitter taste assaulted him as soon as he sipped, but he had grown accustomed to it, frowning briefly before swallowing it all.

He handed the empty bowl back to Lin Yi, expressing his gratitude, “Thank you, Lady Lin, for your care these days. My brother and I have brought nothing to the village, only burdened you. It’s truly shameful.”

“Don’t say that,” Lin Yi waved her hands to explain. “Everyone here fears and hates those beasts from the mountain. You suffered at their hands, just like us. We’re already the weaker side; if we quibble over such trifles, how can we survive?”

Seeing Su Bai’s health slowly return, Lin Yi felt genuine joy. A ten-year-old boy who managed to escape the robbers with his younger brother—it would be a pity if he died so young.

She couldn’t help but ask, “Did you and your brother leave to seek relatives?”

Su Bai replied, “Did my brother say that?”

Lin Yi looked puzzled but didn’t conceal the truth, “He didn’t tell me, it’s only my guess.”

“Oh,” Su Bai realized his question was odd.

He sighed, his sorrowful demeanor piquing Lin Yi’s curiosity. She gently rubbed Su Bai’s back, softly asking, “Is there something you can’t speak of?”

Su Bai was ready with his story, “No, there’s nothing unspeakable. You can probably guess most of it from how we are. We weren’t born into poverty, but some days ago calamity struck our family. My parents must have made enemies somewhere; those foes infiltrated our estate with hundreds. Afterwards… afterwards…”

He could no longer speak, tears streaming as memories he would rather forget resurfaced. Lin Yi hurried to comfort him, embracing him and gently patting his back.

“It’s all right, it’s all right, everything will pass,” she soothed him.

Only after a long while did Su Bai slowly rise from her embrace. Lin Yi wiped the tear marks from his face with a cloth.

Seeing the shocking scars on Su Bai’s face, Lin Yi felt a pang of pain.

“Could these be the work of his parents’ enemies? To harm a child so young, it’s…” Her silent anguish was written plainly on her face.

Su Bai spoke casually, “Don’t worry about it, I made these myself.” His calm eyes betrayed no emotion, seeming as deep as an abyss.

Lin Yi was stunned, uncertain, “You mean… these scars are self-inflicted?”

Su Bai answered with a slight nod.

“I told my brother to run first, while I drew the pursuers away. When I escaped, to avoid being recognized, I used a stone to cut my own face.”

Lin Yi was shocked beyond words, her delicate hands trembling as she gently traced the scars.

“To have endured so much at your age… I can’t imagine the hardship.”

“My mother gave me this life, so I won’t let it go easily. I will do everything to survive.” Su Bai’s young face was full of determination.

Lin Yi gazed out the window as the last shaft of sunlight slanted across their faces.

After a while, Lin Yi gently tucked Su Bai in and left his room.

“This medicine really makes one sleepy; after talking so long, I can barely stay awake,” Su Bai muttered as he yawned, preparing for sleep. Overall, the conversation had served its purpose—he couldn’t freeload forever without attracting resentment from the villagers.

With his current weakness, if he were forced out before recovering, who knows what awaited him. Though feigning helplessness was hard for a man’s pride, Su Bai was only ten years old. He sighed, “A child’s body is not without its advantages, after all. Better sleep now and focus on healing.”

Night had settled quietly, the village plunged into silence; only a few households kept lamps burning, their activities unknown.

But outside the village, less than five miles away, an ominous force was swiftly closing in.

“Boss, the scouts have confirmed—the boy’s hideout is five miles ahead. We also spotted survivors from the village we occupied before. Should we…?” The man gestured a throat-slitting motion to Gao Wuting.

Gao Wuting looked at him with disdain, “Do you know why you’re only a squad leader?”

The man chuckled awkwardly, “Please enlighten me, sir.”

Gao Wuting stepped close, speaking low, “Because you’re too eager to show off for your superiors. Who makes the decisions—you or me? You can’t even sort that out?”

The man slapped himself repeatedly, admitting his stupidity, “Yes, yes, you’re right, sir.”

Ignoring him, Gao Wuting issued orders, “First squad, led by Hu Lang, take the small path and seal off the rear. Not even a fly gets out.”

“Yes, sir.”

He continued, “Second squad, Yi Yong leads—you’re the first wave of archers. Make sure your fire arrows are aimed dead-on.”

Then he turned to the rest, “Everyone else, follow me. Once the arrows strike and the villagers are in chaos, we charge in. Leave no men alive. As for the women…”

He paused, seeming to hesitate, then said, “Let’s see who gets to them first.”

A cheer erupted among his men—they hadn’t enjoyed such spoils in a long time, and now the prospect excited them.

Gao Wuting glanced at his adjutant, still slapping himself, and asked coolly, “We’re about to attack—how long do you plan to keep that up?”

The adjutant quickly stopped, bowing respectfully, “I’ll do my utmost, sir, and never waver again.”

Gao Wuting gave no reply, only a sidelong glance before striding toward the village.

Left behind, the adjutant could only smile awkwardly and slink away.

“Damn! Humiliated in front of everyone. Gao Wuting, I’ll settle this score with you one day.” Deciding to skip the raid, the adjutant headed for the main camp at the foot of the mountain.

A quarter-hour later, with the first squad in position, Gao Wuting raised his right hand. Instantly, dozens of flaming arrows rained into the village.

Soon shouts echoed from within:

“Fire! Put it out!”

“Quick, put it out!”

As flames rose, Gao Wuting’s eyes grew cold. “Charge!” he ordered.

“Kill!” Dozens of men gripped swords and rushed toward the village, their archers switching to steel blades and joining the assault.

“Who are you?” cried a villager, trying to fight the fire, panic rising as he confronted the attackers.

Before he could get an answer, the lead assailant leapt over the three-meter gate and cleaved him in two with a single blow.

Blood sprayed everywhere, staining him crimson, his ferocity undiminished even by the night.

Nearby villagers, seeing Gao Wuting drenched in blood, turned pale and collapsed in terror, unable to utter a word.

Before his dying words were spoken, Gao Wuting decapitated him with a single stroke, sending his head ten meters away to join his predecessor in the underworld.

Gao Wuting swung his blade at the gate, and with a thunderous crash, the three-meter door fell.

The shattered gate slammed to the ground beside him, the noise drawing everyone’s attention.

As someone glanced toward the gate, a blade flashed through the air—a three-foot sword pierced her body, nailing the elderly woman to a willow tree.

She struggled in pain, but as life ebbed, she stilled, her head drooping, her sixty years quietly ended.

The culprit strode towards the remaining “sheep.”

Behind Gao Wuting, a pack of wolves and tigers descended on the defenseless villagers.

In an instant, screams, cries, and pleas mingled, composing a chilling symphony beneath the blazing inferno.

These beasts killed every man they saw; any woman with a hint of beauty was brutally assaulted. Few could withstand the violation, most left barely alive, hanging by a thread. The survivors scrambled for the rear gate, unable to take their loved ones with them.

The village’s elderly, women, and children were slaughtered in moments.

Gao Wuting wandered leisurely, ignoring his men’s atrocities, occasionally killing anyone who resisted.

He closed his eyes, savoring the bloodshed, recalling the thrill of battle years ago—enemies dying by his blade, glory won for his country.

“And now, forced to this, slaughtering what I once protected. How ironic.” Gao Wuting drew a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“Well, now I’m just a subordinate of General Tang. Since the choice is made, there’s no turning back.”

While his thoughts churned, his men had reduced the village to chaos.

Lin Yi’s bamboo hut, built at the western edge and isolated, was spared at first.

At that moment, Wei Mingyuan was resting in Su Bai’s room, slumped at the bedside, perhaps exhausted from caring for him.

But the sounds outside startled him awake. He blinked, listened, then opened the door.

Instantly, the firelight and villagers’ screams filled his ears.

Yet Wei Mingyuan showed no fear; instead, a long-lost joy crept onto his face.

“Looks like these people aren’t all fools,” he smirked, then turned quickly to Su Bai.

Seeing Su Bai still asleep, he smiled, “Seems my plan is about to succeed.”

He shook Su Bai awake, and before Su Bai’s sleepy eyes could open, Wei Mingyuan feigned panic, “Brother, something’s wrong! The village is under attack—there’s fire everywhere, and the villagers are being slaughtered. We need to leave now!”

“What?” Su Bai was stunned by the sudden turn, but there was no reason for Wei Mingyuan to lie. He asked, suspicious, “Are you telling the truth?”

Before Wei Mingyuan could reply, a woman’s piercing scream outside confirmed it.

“No time to lose—where should we go?” Su Bai asked decisively.

“We can’t use the front or back gates; they must have prepared. I asked Doctor Lin a couple days ago—there’s a small path behind this house leading down the mountain,” Wei Mingyuan answered without hesitation.

Su Bai pressed, “How do you know so much?”

“Brother, now’s not the time for questions—our lives are at stake, let’s hurry and go!” Wei Mingyuan was surprised by Su Bai’s vigilance, but there was no time to waste.

“Fine,” Su Bai conceded, donning a coat and hurriedly following Wei Mingyuan into the night.