Chapter 40

The winter in Yongcheng was long and snowy. Mo Yin would see snow falling outside the window before going to sleep and waking up to the same scene. During these days of recuperation, his body gradually recovered, and his frighteningly thin cheeks began to fill out. Cheng Wu, warming his hands over the brazier, chuckled somewhat foolishly, “When I first picked you up, you looked neither alive nor dead. Turns out, you’re quite handsome.”

Mo Yin lay back on the bed, looking at a map of Yongcheng. The pale side of his face showed a hint of elegance under the glow of the fire, his long eyelashes casting shadows. There was a certain resemblance between his appearance in this world and his original self, perhaps due to the transformation of his mental strength.

The smoke lingered, slightly choking. Mo Yin coughed twice and turned to face the wall.

It was too cold in the room to extinguish the brazier. Cheng Wu said, “When spring comes, I’ll find that witch doctor to check on your cough.”

“No need,” Mo Yin knew the condition of this body very well and said lightly, “When spring comes, we have more important things to do.”

Cheng Wu was straightforward. He didn’t know why, but he felt that Mo Yin was not an ordinary person. When Mo Yin asked him if he wanted revenge, he hesitated for a moment, then said without hesitation, “Of course I do!” Clenching his teeth, a deep hatred surfaced on his honest face, “I dream of chopping those bastards to pieces.”

Yongcheng was located on the border and was often harassed by barbarians. Although there were nearby stationed troops, the barbarians always came to plunder at irregular intervals. By the time the news reached the city, it was often too late. This was the case every spring.

Last spring, when Cheng Wu was away from home, the barbarians raided the city to plunder food and valuables, leaving sixty or seventy dead or injured, mostly elderly, weak, sick, or disabled. Cheng Wu’s mother was one of them.

Soon it was the New Year.

Yongcheng was a small city with a sparse population. It was a cold and harsh place, where neighbors supported each other. As the New Year approached, more people came to visit. Everyone had heard that Cheng Wu had saved a merchant, but few had seen him. When they brought New Year goods to Cheng Wu’s house, they couldn’t help but peek inside.

“Awu, where is he? Left?”

“With such heavy snow, where could he go?” Cheng Wu accepted the pickled vegetables and sent out the dried beef. “He’s hiding inside, avoiding people.”

“I heard his whole family was taken by the barbarians…”

The person stopped talking, glanced at Cheng Wu cautiously, and saw Cheng Wu’s face darken and the smile on his face vanish.

The person knew he had spoken out of turn and didn’t know how to remedy it, so he said awkwardly, “Awu, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault, I spoke too much.”

Cheng Wu shook his head. “Blame not yourself. If blame is to be assigned, blame those barbarians.”

The person fell silent again. In such a small city, neither particularly important nor wealthy, when the barbarians came to plunder, the only option was to close the doors and hide. After a while, he forced a smile and said, “Let’s not think about it. Let’s just have a good New Year.”

After the person left, Mo Yin walked out from behind the curtain. He saw Cheng Wu clenching his fists tightly on the table, his face iron blue, and his cheeks bulging as he bit down hard. Suddenly, he hugged his head and crouched down. The big man curled up into a ball, his hands painfully grabbing at his hair.

Mo Yin came over and poured a bowl of water, sipping it slowly. “He’s right. Let’s not think about it. Let’s just have a good New Year.”

Cheng Wu turned his head, his face flushed red. “I really want to kill them.”

“Then let’s kill them.”

Mo Yin said casually, coughing lightly, making him still look like someone who had just recovered from a serious illness. However, for some reason, every word he said seemed to carry weight, hitting Cheng Wu hard. Cheng Wu nodded vigorously. “Let’s kill them.”

*

The New Year in Yongcheng was lively. On the eve of the New Year, everyone in the city would gather at the official residence in the city center to celebrate. Five years ago, there were officials in charge of Yongcheng. Later, the official was promoted and left, but the court had not sent a new official for five years. During these five years, there was no one in charge in the city, and the original official residence had fallen into disrepair.

There was a tradition in Yongcheng for everyone to have a banquet together during the New Year. In recent years, the weather had become increasingly harsh. Two years ago, a snowstorm had collapsed the original venue for gatherings, and it was unknown who had dared to open the door of the official residence. People couldn’t help but bring their prepared food to the official residence. For the past three years, it had been the same every year.

During the three months in Yongcheng, although Mo Yin hardly left the house, he had already grasped all the information about Yongcheng from Cheng Wu’s mouth. He could almost be considered to have an intimate knowledge of Yongcheng. Cheng Wu was a native of Yongcheng and was extremely familiar with every aspect of the city. Through his narration, Mo Yin redrawn the old map from thirty years ago. The map was extremely detailed, even Cheng Wu, the narrator, couldn’t help but marvel, “Your skill is truly amazing.”

Today’s weather was beautiful, with the snow gradually stopping in the morning. Cheng Wu brought a lot of beef and mutton along with two barrels of good wine. The beef and mutton were tied together and hung on his shoulders, with a barrel of wine in each hand. Mo Yin wore a black cloak, his hands tucked in the sleeves, and he put on a hood. His face was frosty, resembling snow, as he walked lightly beside Cheng Wu.

Cheng Wu treated him as if he were an invalid who couldn’t carry anything, not asking him to hold anything. Of course, Mo Yin didn’t offer to help either.

With a stranger in the city, many curious glances were cast at Mo Yin along the way. Cheng Wu greeted everyone with a smile, introducing Mo Yin to them. Everyone also greeted Mo Yin friendly. Despite the harshness and poverty of this place, the people were simple and kind-hearted, and Mo Yin nodded in acknowledgment.

Cheng Wu walked beside him and said, “I’ve never seen a scholar as handsome as you around here.”

Under the hood, Mo Yin’s cheeks moved slightly as his cold eyes swept over. He asked, “Do I really look like a scholar?”

“If you don’t look like a scholar, then who does?”

“If I am indeed a scholar, do you believe I can help you seek revenge?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Can’t scholars seek revenge?”

Mo Yin smiled.

Seeing him smile was rare for Cheng Wu, who couldn’t help but ask, “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.”

Cheng Wu was talkative, and he kept asking relentlessly. At first, Mo Yin didn’t answer, but when Cheng Wu became anxious and red-faced, he replied casually, “I’m laughing because you don’t look as stupid as you seem.”

“You—”

Cheng Wu kept rambling, repeating his gratitude several times, until they finally arrived at the old mansion.

Yongcheng, being a small town, was naturally unheard of in the court by Mo Yin. However, he knew a little about the situation in Wuxi.

In the cold and barren northwest, there wasn’t much profit to be made. Those who came here to serve as officials were mostly nobodies in the court. It was almost a kind of exile. After enduring for a period of time, anyone with some ambition would try to use their connections to get out of this place.

The old mansion had been abandoned for two years, but it looked good now, decorated quite festively for the New Year. People were bustling around, carrying things here and there, creating a rare lively atmosphere.

Following Cheng Wu into the mansion, Mo Yin saw that it was quite ordinary inside and out, with long tables set up and large pots placed in the corridors. Men, women, and children were chatting and drinking tea, their faces filled with joy of the New Year.

Another year had passed, another year of peace. For these border people, this was better than anything else.

There were also some who wore forced smiles, like Cheng Wu, who found a corner to sit in with Mo Yin. Some of the men and women who had sat down earlier were silent, their faces wearing smiles, but their eyes were envious as they looked at the families gathered together.

At first glance, both groups seemed happy, but upon closer inspection, it was easy to tell who was genuinely happy and who was not.

“Brother Wu.”

A thin man beside Cheng Wu nudged his arm. “Is this the merchant you brought?”

Mo Yin sat with his head down, still wearing his hood.

Cheng Wu nodded.

“He doesn’t look like one.”

Cheng Wu turned his head. “What doesn’t he look like?”

The thin man, named Zhang Zhi, had a face like a rat, with sharp, cunning eyes. “He looks like a scholar.”

Cheng Wu burst into laughter at his words. Mo Yin heard their conversation clearly but remained motionless. Zhang Zhi didn’t know why Cheng Wu was laughing but joined in anyway. Like Cheng Wu, he was also single, with no family left. It had been years since his family was gone, and he had gradually grown accustomed to it. He and Cheng Wu had been friends since childhood. Cheng Wu was strong, and he was small. When he was bullied, Cheng Wu would help him.

“You only came back yesterday, right?” Cheng Wu said, his face turning serious. “You didn’t go fooling around outside again, did you?”

“How could I?” Zhang Zhi shrugged. “In this place, who could I fool around with? The military camp? The barbarians? I wouldn’t dare.”

When Cheng Wu heard “barbarians,” his face hardened, and his smile gradually disappeared.

Seeing him like this, Zhang Zhi also stopped smiling and speaking. He poured a bowl of tea for Cheng Wu, then thought for a moment and poured another one, pushing it towards Mo Yin from the table.

Mo Yin turned his face slightly from under his hood. “Thank you.”

Zhang Zhi nodded, thinking to himself that this person didn’t look like a merchant at all. With his demeanor, he seemed more like an official, at least a county magistrate.

Although Yongcheng lacked government officials, there was still a respected old clan leader who organized the New Year’s feast with great fanfare. Soon, the tables were filled with food brought by various families. There were no fresh fruits or vegetables, but there were large pots of beef and mutton pickles, as well as barrels of wine, all warmed up. Young and strong men carried wine jars and swiftly poured wine into everyone’s cups, winning cheers all around.

Not only that, there were also performances of music and dance. Drinking and eating meat, everyone was lively and happy. Even Cheng Wu swayed his shoulders gently to the melodious music, and finally, everyone began to enjoy themselves.

Mo Yin lifted his wine bowl and sipped slowly.

Seeing him drinking, Cheng Wu quickly reminded him, “This wine is strong.”

Mo Yin calmly finished the whole bowl of wine. “It’s good.”

Cheng Wu was speechless. “Wow, I thought you would pass out after just one sip with your drinking capacity.”

Mo Yin smiled. “Not quite.”

As the night progressed, the old clan leader stood up with a wine bowl in his hand. “Everyone,” his hair was all white, and his cloudy eyes seemed to have many words to say. Everyone held up their wine bowls and looked at him. “It’s New Year’s.” In the end, he only said a simple sentence. Then he extended his hand and poured the wine in his bowl onto the ground. Everyone followed suit. In the corner where Mo Yin sat, after a night of unknown joy and sorrow, a choking and sorrowful sound arose.

After the New Year, the weather gradually warmed up. Spring was coming soon, which meant disaster would come again. It was like a trial every year. Even if one had survived last year, who knew if it wouldn’t be their turn this year? Although no one said it aloud, such thoughts flashed like shadows in everyone’s minds, casting a shadow over the festive atmosphere of the New Year.

Cheng Wu silently wiped the tears that had flowed down his face without him noticing. His lips moved slightly, and he softly hummed a melody that had been circulating in the city for a hundred years. The melody was melodious as if it were telling the sorrow and bitterness of the border town. Who would sympathize with them? Who would pity them? Who would help them?

As everyone hummed along, tears fell. Even those who had been joyful now showed sadness on their faces.

It turned out that true joy could also be false joy. With the knife hanging over their heads, who could truly be happy?

Mo Yin took off his hood, and a cold breeze rushed in instantly, causing a tickling sensation in his lungs. He coughed lightly and slowly stood up in the corner. Cheng Wu wiped away his tears and looked up, only to see Mo Yin picking up the wine jar from the ground.

The wine jar was as round-bellied as a child of four or five years old. Yet Mo Yin effortlessly lifted it with one hand, first adding wine to Cheng Wu’s bowl, then to Zhang Zhi’s. Zhang Zhi was astonished, staring wide-eyed as Mo Yin went around adding wine to everyone’s bowls before returning to theirs and filling his own. Then he placed the wine jar down steadily. By now, the whole room had fallen silent, and everyone looked at Mo Yin in disbelief. They couldn’t believe that this seemingly fragile outsider possessed such strength.

Mo Yin walked to the old clan leader with his wine bowl, bowed slightly, and said, “Chief, my surname is Mo, a native of Chuzhou. I came here to trade. On the way, my family was killed by bandits. Fortunately, Cheng Wu from your city saved me. Thank you.”

The old clan leader’s lips trembled slightly. “It’s you…”

In a small town like Yongcheng, when something happened to a family, the whole town would know within half a moment. Needless to say, everyone would spontaneously offer help and comfort. This small town was like one big family.

“I heard from Cheng Wu that last year, the barbarians came to the city to rob grain and kill people. The year before last, they did the same. It’s the same every year, without exception.”

Tears overflowed from the old clan leader’s cloudy eyes. He waved his hand lightly, saying nothing.

“I also heard that your third son was tied to a horse and dragged to death by the barbarians two years ago for protecting his little sister from being ravaged by them.”

With these cold words, a woman’s cry and scream suddenly erupted behind them. Chaos ensued. Mo Yin looked at the old clan leader, his expression unchanged. “Chief, two years ago it was your son, last year it was Cheng Wu’s mother, and who will it be this year?”

The chief’s face twitched. “Outsider, you…” He couldn’t help but shed tears. “You ask me, who should I ask? Everything is fate…”

Behind them, comforting and discussing voices gradually rose. Mo Yin bowed deeply to the old clan leader again, then turned to face the crowd. He lifted the wine bowl in his hand, drank it all in one gulp, and then smashed the bowl to the ground.

“Bang!” The bowl shattered into pieces, scattering on the ground along with the spilled wine used for offerings to the deceased. It was as if hundreds of spirits simultaneously threw their bowls, splattering the ground with the wine.

Mo Yin’s gaze swept over the crowd, his pale face, eyes like ink dots, and a lingering cold aura around him. His voice was neither high nor low as he said, “I think it’s their turn this year.”