In just a few days, events in this remote borderland in southern Qi seemed to be strangely connected by some unseen force.
In the dilapidated temple, under Wen Chaosheng's narration and organization, two seemingly unrelated incidents were strung together.
Wen Chaosheng looked at A Shui, who was deep in thought, and initially wanted to ask her about her past, but remembering A Shui's pained expression earlier, he stopped himself.
He was curious and couldn't imagine what kind of terrifying experience could make someone as indestructible as A Shui unable to look back and face it.
She endured the knife-like night snow, resisted terrifying assassins, and in Ku Hai County, countless people wanted to stab her, yet neither those buried behind the dilapidated temple nor those hiding in Ku Hai County still observing could truly harm this woman without a surname.
Clearly, the woman Wen Chaosheng picked up in the snowstorm was far more terrifying than the storm itself.
“Tomorrow, I’ll go see Chun Qiong,” A Shui decided after a long period of contemplation.
She didn't like being a tool in someone else's hands, especially not a dead person's.
But the truth about her parents was equally important to her.
That was her last straw.
If she didn't get to the bottom of this matter, the great fire that burned Feng City to charcoal in the depths of her memory would sooner or later completely consume her.
She narrowly escaped death, but her Heart Demon had already formed; she thought she had escaped, but in reality, she was still trapped within it.
Wen Chaosheng sighed inwardly, then suddenly thought of something and spoke to the fire, “As I walked through the county town today, I saw many black birds on the eaves and many hidden venomous insects in the alleys.
Although I haven't explored Ku Hai County before, I know that these things shouldn't appear in a normal person's world.”
His voice was deep, as if he was trying to persuade her, but A Shui’s mind was made up, and her reply carried a cold laziness: “What does it matter? Ku Hai County is my home; I was always meant to die here.”
Listening to A Shui’s words and staring at the half of her profile illuminated by the brilliant firelight, Wen Chaosheng asked curiously, “A Shui, is the truth about your parents really more important to you than your life?”
A Shui seemed to have been touched on a sore point and retorted directly to Wen Chaosheng, “Is there nothing more important than life to you?”
Wen Chaosheng shook his head decisively, “No.”
“To survive in this world, I’ve given up everything I could, including my dignity.”
“Life, to me, is everything.”
“As long as I’m alive, there are countless possibilities for the future.”
A Shui sneered, “Really? Who was it who told me a few days ago that if I dared to harm Dog Master, he would fight me to the death?”
Wen Chaosheng was silenced by her mockery, but A Shui persisted with the question.
She hooked her finger into Wen Chaosheng’s collar, pulled him closer, stared at his face, and asked with interest, “Wen Chaosheng, would you really fight me to the death for a dog?”
Wen Chaosheng, of course, knew what A Shui meant.
She just wanted to ask whose life was more important: his, Wen Chaosheng’s, or Dog Master’s.
But Wen Chaosheng didn't want to truly delve into the answer to this question, so he replied, “Your question is easily misunderstood, as if you’re asking me who is more important to me, you or Dog Master.
But whether it’s for you or for Dog Master, I’m just an insignificant passerby in your lives, a stone by the roadside; my thoughts are irrelevant to you, so why dig so deep?”
A Shui was momentarily stunned by his answer, then realized that her question had other implications.
She looked at him twice, then finally let go of his collar.
“Do me a favor,” she said.
Wen Chaosheng shook his head.
“No.”
A Shui frowned, “I haven’t even said what you need to do for me, and you’re refusing so bluntly?”
Wen Chaosheng threw a piece of firewood and said, “What else could you have me do?”
“It’s nothing more than wanting my help with an investigation, right?”
“Let me tell you, don’t even think about it.”
“Whether it’s the so-called Wangchuan or anyone else, I can’t afford to offend them.”
“I’ve finally gotten my Qi citizenship status, and my future is limitless and bright.
If you want to die, don’t drag me down into the gutter with you.”
A Shui glanced at him, then finally nodded and said nothing more.
…
After a night passed, at dawn, Wen Chaosheng entered the county town with his axe.
This time, the yamen runners guarding the gate no longer stopped him; their minds were no longer on Wen Chaosheng, the vagrant, but were instead whispering, continuously discussing Liu Jinshi’s death.
As Wen Chaosheng passed by, he happened to hear them say that the new county magistrate, Chun Qiong, seemed to be looking for something, and recalling the “Intestinal Poison” A Shui had obtained last night, he already had a pretty good guess.
However, he showed no abnormality and kept last night’s events to himself.
After buying soy milk and steamed buns at the morning market and eating his fill, he went to Guihua Alley west of the painting gallery bridge, following the rooms with red apricot blossoms peeking over the walls, until he reached the eighth one.
The door seemed to have been left ajar specifically for him.
When Wen Chaosheng pushed the door open, he happened to encounter the white-haired woman leaving.
He nodded slightly and said, “Good morning, Madam Lu.”
The white-haired woman nodded, her eyes lingering on him for a few seconds before she headed to the vegetable market.
Wen Chaosheng entered the door, and the first thing he saw was the loquat tree in the courtyard.
Just like yesterday, this tree felt very strange to him.
From the south of the county town all the way here, whether in the gaps between some private houses or by the Ming'an River that runs east to west, one could see willows and metasequoias.
Those trees were much taller and more beautiful than the loquat tree in Lu Zhiming’s courtyard, yet none of them managed to catch Wen Chaosheng’s attention.
Only this loquat tree.
Wen Chaosheng unknowingly approached the loquat tree, staring at it for a long time, his gaze moving from the leaves to the trunk, then to the roots.
But no matter how he looked, the tree was just a tree; it didn't transform into anything else.
Later, Wen Chaosheng stared at the branches and leaves for too long, and the sunlight piercing through the gaps made his eyes uncomfortable.
He finally came back to his senses, stood in place, bewildered for a while, then picked up his axe and went to chop wood.
Upon reaching the woodshed, Wen Chaosheng, as before, stood the firewood upright, then took out his axe, raised it high, and aimed at the center of the wood.
Swish!
The axe swung down.
Yesterday, a piece of wood this thick would have taken him seven or eight chops, but today, as the axe fell, that cedar log, thick as his three arms… split open with a sound.