Chapter 223
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In the forest, the two young women who were rescued had been traveling by carriage. Presumably, before the attack, there must have been a coachman or someone similar accompanying them. Yet, there were no traces of the coachman in the forest, nor was there any sign of a body. It seemed likely that he had escaped ahead of time. Now, with the coachman returning home to report the incident and leveraging the power of the authorities to rescue them, this outcome was within expectations.
However, this delay in time could have resulted in a tragic fate for the women if not for Zhang Xiaohua and the others.
With this thought in mind, Zhang Xiaohua deliberately maintained a certain distance from the carriage.
After all, anyone carrying freshly looted silver in their pocket would prefer to avoid encountering such people, even if they were acting out of a sense of justice.
Although Zhang Xiaohu did not fully understand Zhang Xiaohua’s intentions, he too gradually slowed his horse’s pace.
Sure enough, the two women on the carriage heard the approaching commotion and looked up to observe. The more they saw, the more delight spread across their faces. Finally, when they recognized the figures clearly, they disregarded whether their clothing was tidy or not, stood on the carriage, and waved toward the approaching group.
As the group drew closer, the scene became clear. At the forefront was an official riding a horse, tall and imposing, holding a simple saber in his hand. Behind him were two elderly men with white hair, dressed in somewhat ornate clothing, their faces filled with joy as they rode on horseback. These elders were surrounded by three or four young men also on horseback, armed with weapons. Following them were seven or eight foot soldiers and more than a dozen peasants wielding tools such as pitchforks and sickles.
The official leading the group had sharp eyes. Seeing the two young women on the carriage waving, he immediately directed the group to approach. Before they even reached the carriage, one of the elderly men was already in tears, crying out, “Feng’er, my child!” The other elder’s lips trembled, unable to utter a word.
The two young women, upon seeing their family members, could no longer hold back their emotions. Calling out “Father!” with tears streaming down their faces, they waited until the elders dismounted and rushed forward to each find their father, throwing themselves into their arms and sobbing uncontrollably.
The accompanying constables and helpers instantly assumed a professional stance, surrounding the carriage with weapons drawn, ready to fend off any potential bandits.
The official at the forefront unsheathed his simple saber, riding his horse around the area and scrutinizing everyone nearby, seemingly attempting to spot any trace of the bandits among them.
The two women cried so bitterly that it blocked the main road, attracting some curious onlookers who wanted to get closer. However, the imposing demeanor of the official, exuding authority and command, discouraged any attempts to crowd the area, preventing a major traffic jam on the road. By this time, the evening was drawing near. After patrolling for a long while without finding any clues, the official dismounted, feeling rather bored. He approached the sorrowful fathers and daughters and said: “Masters Li and Gao, now that your daughters have been found, lingering here and crying endlessly is not a solution. Even asking questions here could harm the girls’ reputations, which is not ideal. Why not return home first? You can reunite with your family in peace and thoroughly inquire about the situation before deciding what steps to take next. What do you think?”
The two elders wiped their tears and repeatedly agreed that it was a good idea. They composed themselves, mounted their horses, and boarded the carriage. The constables had already pulled aside the temporary coachman they had hired on the spot and replaced him with one of their own men. The coachman smiled apologetically and said: “Chief, I was just at the teahouse having tea when a young man on horseback hired me for a single coin to drive this carriage for him. Now that you’ve arrived, I’ll just head back to the teahouse.”
“A young man?” The chief perked up and scanned the surroundings. On this now-empty road, there was no sign of a young man on horseback. Thinking carefully, he did recall seeing two riders behind the carriage when they first arrived. However, as he hadn’t paid much attention at the time, he hadn’t seen them clearly. Could they have been the bandits?
Meanwhile, the two young women had also calmed down. Realizing that they had been so preoccupied with venting their grievances that they had completely forgotten about their saviors, they began searching for them. But where could they be found now? The two could only resolve to bring up the matter once they returned home.
Unable to find the young men, the chief turned to the coachman and said: “Since there are no other witnesses, you’re the only one besides the two young ladies who can testify. You’ll have to come with us. You can remain silent for now, but everything you say can and will be presented as evidence before our county magistrate.”
“Heavens, Chief, noble sir! I’m innocent! I only took the job for a little money and drove the carriage with the best intentions of helping others. From the moment I took the reins to now, it’s only been the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. And now you’re taking me away? I’ve lived my whole life lawfully and have never even set foot in the yamen before!”
“Haha, look at what you said. Our yamen is the pride of Lu Town, an advanced workplace where we strictly adhere to the policy of ‘never letting a criminal go free, but also never wronging an innocent person’. You can rest assured. Besides, with your carriage-driving skills, earning a coin in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea? Who would believe that? Be cooperative and come with us for questioning. We’ll provide the tea at the yamen.”
Without waiting for further protests, the constables restrained the coachman. With a show of authority, they marched back to Lu Town. Those who had come to rescue the young women felt satisfied, their good deeds bringing them a sense of fulfillment. Chatting and laughing, they followed, carrying their sickles, hoes, and other tools.
Only the two young women kept looking back from time to time, as if hoping to catch sight of the lay disciples of Dalin Temple on the darkening road.
When the two young women stood up and waved to the elders in the crowd, Zhang Xiaohua and Zhang Xiaohu stopped in their tracks. They didn’t mind being heroes, receiving cheers, and basking in the satisfaction of their self-esteem being boosted. Nor did they mind accepting a token of gratitude. However, with the involvement of government officials, the situation became troublesome. Such people always appeared after the matter was settled, especially when it came time to claim credit. The worst part was that their credit-claiming was always justified. They could justifiably invite you to the yamen for tea, investigate your family lineage for three generations, and reinterpret your heroic actions as self-serving motives. Thus, Zhang Xiaohua and Zhang Xiaohu retreated. When the constables and townsfolk surrounded the carriage, the two urged their horses and sped past.
After all, the day was growing dark, and if they didn’t hurry, they wouldn’t make it back to Guo Village before nightfall.
The brothers rode along the main road toward Lu Town. As they approached the town, they veered north onto a familiar path that led to Guo Village.
Along the way, neither spoke. Zhang Xiaohu didn’t ask why Zhang Xiaohua had disguised himself as a lay disciple of Dalin Temple, why he had taken the bandits’ silver, or why he didn’t claim recognition for his heroic deeds. Because Zhang Xiaohu increasingly felt that his younger brother was maturing, taking on things he himself couldn’t do, and gradually stepping out from under his protection. More importantly, Zhang Xiaohu felt that his role was subtly shifting—from protector to someone being protected, or perhaps even just a supporting role.
Most of all, neither of the brothers wanted to break the silence. They were both savoring the feeling of returning home, that all-encompassing, soul-stirring sensation of homesickness.
As one nears their hometown, a sense of apprehension arises—a feeling familiar to every wanderer. The closer one gets to home, the more hesitant they become.
The roads from Pingyang City to Lu Town weren’t familiar, so the idea of returning home had remained an abstract longing in their minds. But now, as they set foot on a familiar path, an indescribable wave of emotion swept over them. It filled their hearts and bodies, leaving them relaxed and unwilling to move, immersed in a sense of comfort and peace. Even the flow of Yuan Qi in Zhang Xiaohua’s meridians seemed to slow down. In that moment, stepping onto this familiar road, Zhang Xiaohua was struck by a surge of sentiment, instantly elevating his state of mind. He felt a deep sense of understanding within.
To the west, the sun had already set, leaving only a faint crimson glow on the horizon, light and elusive. The earth was bathed in a dusky yellow hue, while in the eastern sky, faint stars had begun to twinkle, as if they were winking and watching Zhang Xiaohua on his journey home.
As the ancient saying goes: “Even the old ox knows the value of time; without the whip, it gallops on its own.”
The spirited horses seemed to sense the brothers’ overwhelming desire to return home. Once they reached this familiar road, the horses galloped faster, as if they too shared the urgency in their hearts. Zhang Xiaohua didn’t know what his second brother was thinking, but his own mind was filled with countless thoughts: What would home look like now? His parents must have aged. It had been two years since he last saw them, and the burdens of life would surely weigh heavily. Their hair must have grown grayer, their faces more wrinkled. And his elder brother—left alone at home to care for their parents. Would the backbreaking work have already hunched his youthful frame?
Then there was his sister-in-law. Once a delicate beauty, she had become a farmer’s wife in Guo Village. Her hands must have grown rough, her face perhaps no longer as fair as before. Sigh, life in the fields was relentless. How could she avoid the toil of the earth, braving the wind and rain? Was she coping well?
Oh, and Mr. Liu. How had he been adjusting to life in Guo Village? When Zhang Xiaohua left, Mr. Liu was full of vigor and spirit. Two years had passed—was his health still holding up?
He even thought about the little chickens, ducklings, and the plump pig back at home. Were they doing well? Perhaps his mother could slaughter the pig and make braised pork. It had been so long since he’d tasted her cooking—how he yearned for it!
And then there was his grandmother’s grave. It had been far too long since he had paid his respects or burned incense for her. Was she at peace in the underworld? Could she feel his longing?
Lost in his memories and emotions, Zhang Xiaohua’s heart surged with waves of longing, and his thoughts tumbled over each other in a whirlwind. His once-dormant Yuan Qi suddenly felt as if it had been ignited. It began to circulate rapidly, almost beyond his awareness, slipping gradually out of his control.
In the path of cultivation, balance is everything. Zhang Xiaohua’s progress had always been slow—whether sensing the flow of Qi or guiding it in his training. It wasn’t due to a lack of diligence, but rather the limited amount of Yuan Qi of Heaven and Earth available to him, unable to meet his needs.
Yet, Zhang Xiaohua’s state of mind had advanced by leaps and bounds, fueled by repeated introspection, profound realizations, and some inexplicable factors. He had reached a stage where his inner strength was fragile compared to the maturity of his state of mind. On normal days, his calm temperament masked this disparity. However, the emotional turmoil of returning home caused this imbalance to surface immediately, presenting Zhang Xiaohua with the first true crisis of his cultivation journey.
