Chapter 17

Turning the corner, and as soon as he slipped out of the Kou family’s sight, Wei Jing pointed his toes and darted forward through the grass.

With one arm he shielded the person in his embrace—Shao Qing, who was well-practiced in such matters—quietly lying on his shoulder as the night wind whistled by and the dark, looming thatched trees and bushes receded rapidly behind them.

Wei Jing did not return to the Kou residence but instead skirted past Hexiang, heading straight in the direction of the county town. The two locations were scarcely more than five li apart, and already he could see a mass of black silhouettes advancing toward him—a whole group numbering roughly five or six hundred. A cold, disdainful smile played on his lips. Did they think that a mere few hundred county soldiers could capture him? It seemed that the county officer surnamed Sun was both half-informed and greedily ambitious.

Earlier that night, Wei Jing had carefully scouted the nearby terrain. He headed directly for a stone-slab arched bridge about one li from Hexiang, leaped beneath it, and concealed Shao Qing on a stone pier hidden in the shadows.

“Ah Qing, wait for me,” he called softly.

“Alright, be careful—don’t aggravate your wound,” she replied.

Wei Jing acknowledged her with a sound, then sprang onto the bank and melted into the clumps of thatched grass at the bridge’s entrance.

This stone bridge was the only route from Hexiang to the county town, so she waited silently.

---

“… ‘Father, I’m not sure whether those two in the Kou family truly are the ones we suspect. Since we’re acting without informing the county lord, it won’t matter if they are—but if they aren’t…'”

This blatant act of credit‑grabbing was sure to greatly offend the county magistrate—who, after all, was the powerful backer of the father-son duo—and Sun Zong was noticeably on edge.

His father, Sun Rong, smiled smugly and said, “No matter. The honorable county lord is currently at Hongxiu Tavern, thoroughly intoxicated. I’ve sent someone over to act when the timing is right.”

“If we succeed, it will be counted as his great accomplishment; if not, we’ll just say that desperate circumstances forced our hand—the county magistrate has already been informed.”

Yesterday, Gong County received an urgent order, instructing a meticulous search for those who had landed by the river in recent days—whether alone or in pairs (typically a man and a woman, with the man severely injured and poisoned). The county magistrate had already summoned County Captain Sun the previous day and ordered an overnight sweep.

Sun Zong had caught wind of the conversation. While he was in the Kou family courtyard, he hadn’t put the pieces together, but after leaving, as he lingered over thoughts of that enchanting beauty, a sudden jolt of realization spurred him to rush back and report everything to his father.

Overjoyed, Sun Rong immediately rallied all his soldiers.

In truth, he wasn’t even sure what sort of individuals he was meant to search for; whether the two from the Kou family were indeed the culprits was of no real importance. After all, the higher-ups would rather mistakenly execute someone than let a suspect escape. The order was clear: anyone confirmed to have landed from the riverbank, regardless of whether they were the intended target, was to be immediately promoted.

And even if they were indeed the targets, it didn’t matter—if the man was gravely wounded and poisoned, he should already be nearing death, right? With several hundred county soldiers at his disposal, failure was simply not an option.

Filled with a resolute, almost desperate determination to succeed, the Sun father and son rode off in quick succession, surrounded by their infantry, and mounted the stone bridge.

At that moment, a small stone silently and swiftly shot out from the thatched grass, striking squarely at the hoof beneath Sun Rong’s crotch on the brown horse.

The brown horse staggered, taking a few unsteady steps before suddenly toppling to one side, directly knocking over the nearby Sun Zong as well. In a tremendous “bang,” the two men and their horses crashed heavily onto the river’s surface, sending splashes of water soaring high into the air.

It happened to be the rainy season—having just rained earlier that day—and the river was flowing with a torrential current. The two horses managed to struggle and swim toward the bank; however, the Sun father and son, being poor swimmers, fared much worse. With a couple of heavy “plops,” they were immediately swept away downstream by the rushing water.

The river flowed straight into the Qian River, and the distance from the point of entry to the river mouth was only about half a li. The change was so sudden and dramatic that everyone was stunned for a moment before they collectively cried out and scrambled to pursue. But really, how could any human legs possibly keep pace with such a raging current? In just two or three strokes, they were already carried far away.

One of his trusted aides—a skilled swimmer—gritted his teeth and dove straight into the river. However, they had no idea that the Sun family’s father and son were beyond saving.

---

At the river mouth, Wei Jing, carrying a bamboo pole he had conveniently broken off en route, gave two quick prods. No sooner had the Sun father and son emerged from the water than, before they could even celebrate, they tumbled into the grass and lost consciousness. Carrying the two unconscious men, he headed upstream to a secluded spot.

“Thank you, thank you, noble knight, for saving my life; I will never forget your kindness.”

In the dark night—with a cold moon, a solitary star, gusts of river wind, and swaying thatched grass—a slender, upright figure stood off to one side. With his back turned to the light, his face was indistinct, yet he exuded an aura of extreme danger.

No sooner had the Sun family father and son regained consciousness than their hearts began pounding wildly. The once unyielding Sun Zong turned pale with fright, and Sun Rong, barely managing to steady himself, finally spoke: “Hero, please accompany me to the county town; I must repay you manifold for saving my life.”

But the other party was clearly not interested in lavish thanks. He replied coolly, “Why are you all heading to Hexiang in the dead of night? Has your superior ordered you to search for those who plunged from Qian River into the river?”

“There are individuals who have come ashore in Hexiang—how many of your men are even aware of that?”

“You misunderstand. It’s all a misunderstanding!” At this, Sun Rong’s internal alarm bells rang, and he frantically shook his head and gestured: “It’s merely a personal grudge between my family and the Kou family—oh no, rather, the Kou family informed us that someone had been rescued in their household, which appears to be connected to a major criminal case…”

Having spent years scheming and maneuvering in the county office, Sun Rong immediately knew this was bad news. With his heart racing, he quickly concocted a suitable excuse.

Unfortunately, the person before him was none other than the very culprit responsible for the river’s plunge. All excuses proved useless—Wei Jing snorted coldly and charged forward.

“Aaaaaaaa!”

Before long, Wei Jing had completely extracted every confidential detail known to the Sun father and son.

Fortunately, only the Sun father and son—and about a dozen of their most trusted aides—knew the particulars about Hexiang. These two had kept the information locked away to claim all the credit for themselves.

These aides were all leading figures among the county soldiers, distinguishable by their unique uniforms, which made them easy targets. Thus, those local bullies who had been preying on the common people for years ended up drowning that very night alongside their master, Sun Rong and his son.

Wei Jing swiftly wrapped up all matters here. Silently, he bypassed the county soldiers who were still frantically searching, returned to the stone bridge, and brought Shao Qing out.

“Let’s head to Gong County for a bit.”

Wei Jing wanted to examine the official document that had been distributed so that he could assess the current situation along the river and the intensity of the search. He first went to the study at the county office, but it wasn’t there; after some thought, he then went to the county magistrate’s residence—still no sign of it.

Frowning, Wei Jing finally went to the Sun residence. In Sun Rong’s outer study, he indeed found that very document.

“This county magistrate is utterly derelict in his duty,” Shao Qing said, shaking her head.

They went to three different places, each brimming with buildings and exquisitely adorned. Although, by her standards, this wasn’t anything extraordinary, the total funds far exceeded the salary of even a county magistrate or lieutenant; it was all derived from public money. She leaned in closer to examine it together with Wei Jing.

The official document, written with stern language, focused primarily on an intensive search. It contained almost no information about Wei Jing or Shao Qing—merely noting that a young man and a young woman had fallen into the river at a certain time and that they were injured and poisoned or something similar.

Simply to maximize enthusiasm, the document declared that anyone found who had fallen from the river—regardless of whether they were the intended targets—would be immediately promoted and rewarded.

No wonder Sun Rong was so eager; he had even managed to keep this secret from the county magistrate.

“That’s for the best—we’ve dodged a lot of trouble.”

As for eliminating the harm inflicted on the people, who could guarantee that the successors wouldn’t prove to be an even greater menace? The root problem lies in a bureaucracy steeped in corruption; firing a few county officials neither treats the symptoms nor cures the underlying disease.

Shao Qing sighed softly and asked Wei Jing, “Shall we leave?”

Wei Jing nodded and returned the document to its place. “It seems that when we head to Pingtao, we must be extra cautious.”

Even remote places like Gong County have already received the order—meaning that the towns along river banks must have been notified, and the search efforts will undoubtedly be intense.

Shao Qing agreed, “Once this round of searching is over, everything will be fine.”

After all, such a massive, rigorous search cannot last forever; as long as no further news comes in, once this initial phase passes, it will be completely over.

……

Before long, Wei Jing and Shao Qing managed to catch up with the Kou family’s donkey cart. Their trip turned out to be a quick round trip—taking less than an hour. The Kou family members, including Yan Ming, appeared completely unfazed, except for Kou Yue, who curiously asked a question but was quickly brushed aside by Shao Qing.

Before dawn, they arrived in neighboring An County. Kou Xuan had no intention of going inside—after all, the two counties were adjacent, and officials usually maintained friendly relations.

Around An County and in the surrounding towns, there were inns. However, lodging in the dead of night would draw too much attention, so the group chose instead to find a secluded spot to lie low, waiting for the city gates to open.

Wei Jing pointed out that with so many people, one donkey cart wouldn’t be enough—they needed another. Nowadays, animal power was quite valuable, and he wouldn’t let the Kou family pay; he used his own money instead, delegating the task of buying one in town to Yan Ming, who held the safest position among those present. In fact, the two didn’t lack money or silver. When they left Sun Rong’s outer study, he casually pocketed a good amount—after all, if he didn’t, it would only benefit Sun Zong’s younger brothers.

Another donkey cart was purchased, and Kou Xuan, Yan Ming, and Yuan Hong took turns driving it. As for Wei Jing and Shao Qing, they remained on the rear cart under the pretense that their injuries had not yet healed. Everyone accepted this explanation naturally—even Kou Xuan, who seemed to have entirely forgotten what he had witnessed the previous night.

Clattering along, the two moderately new donkey carts set off, heading west for several miles toward Pingtao County. Blended in among merchant caravans and travelers, they looked completely unremarkable.

After reading the official document, Shao Qing was mentally steeled for what was to come, yet in reality, the intensity of the search was even greater than she had imagined. Leaving An County behind, they turned onto the main road, gradually drawing closer to the bustling, populous county town. Soldiers and common laborers, one group after another, went door to door. Even the remote, desolate areas were methodically screened as the search extended from along the river inland.

Even the common folk were remarkably enthusiastic because there was a bounty. Anyone who reported someone plunging into the river or severely injuring an outsider would—once verified—receive a reward of one hundred gold coins. And if luck struck and the report hit the mark, it would be even more extraordinary: a reward of ten thousand gold coins and the grant of the title “Guan Neihou.”

It was simply like a ladder straight to the heavens.

Many laborers accompanied the soldiers as they conducted their search, and along the road, the farmers and common people were all talking about this very topic. Everyone kept a sharp lookout, and the atmosphere was filled with fervor.

Wei Jing peered through the gap in the curtain that Shao Qing had pulled aside, watching the scene with cold detachment, his eyes as icy as frost.

These were the very people of the Great Chu—people whom he had once defended with steadfast resolve, willing to sacrifice everything and spill blood without hesitation, their bodies scarred by battle. And yet now, they were all converging to capture him.

“They don’t know the full story,” Shao Qing murmured, unable to help but speak in a low voice.

Wei Jing said nothing further; he merely asked, “Is your head still hurting?”

“It doesn’t anymore.” Shao Qing touched the fading bruise on her temple, momentarily at a loss for words on how to continue her counsel. After a sigh, she could only feel relieved that Kou Xuan and the Kou family had survived the first trial.

The donkey cart pressed on, and every checkpoint and road junction was strictly controlled, with layers of barricades. Locals, outsiders, merchant caravans, farmers—none were exempt; everyone queued for inspection.

“What’s going on ahead?” Shao Qing asked. She pulled aside the curtain to look and saw that the line stretched for several miles. Numerous guard posts, set out in several rows, were constantly leading people and vehicles away for checks.

With such intensive scrutiny, there was simply no way to avoid detection. Not to mention that if anyone’s eyes caught a glimpse of Wei Jing’s unbuttoned robe—revealing the scarred wounds on his collarbones—they wouldn’t be able to escape.

What about taking a detour? But it seemed likely that every road was just like this.

Shao Qing withdrew her hand, her brows knitting tightly. “Should we turn back?”

“No need.” Wei Jing replied, “I’ll get off here; I can make it past on my own. I’ll wait for you up ahead.”

As to why he didn’t mention taking Shao Qing along this time, there were two reasons. First, slipping past the checkpoint in broad daylight might be feasible for one person, but if two were huddled together, their combined presence would be too conspicuous—making it nearly impossible to avoid being noticed.

The second and more important reason was that Shao Qing’s “target” was much smaller—and she had even purchased makeup powder. As long as she did not stand with Wei Jing, she was confident she could pass the inspection by blending in.

Wei Jing looked over her makeup and felt quite relieved. Otherwise, to be on the safe side, he probably would have decided to act only at night.

Shao Qing thought the plan was good enough. Along the way, there was bound to be countless checkpoints—and if they had to wait until nighttime each time, it would be too troublesome, especially with the Kou family involved.

Wei Jing murmured a few low-key instructions and silently got off the cart, leaving behind an ever-lengthening caravan of vehicles. It wasn’t unusual for people behind to leave too; after all, nature calls, and many take a break to relieve themselves.

After watching his figure disappear, Shao Qing lowered the curtain and took out her hand mirror to touch up her makeup. She now appeared as a young person with a slightly dark, yellowish complexion, drooping eyes, a noticeably larger mouth, a nose no longer as straight as before, and plenty of freckles on her cheeks. Although she wasn’t unattractive, compared to her former appearance the difference was night and day. Probably even her real parents from the Shao family wouldn’t recognize her. She was very grateful that she had such a wide range of interests in her previous life—indeed, having many skills is never a burden.

As the long line slowly inched forward, it finally became Shao Qing’s turn. The donkey cart driven by Yan Ming in front had already been directed to the other side, and the soldiers shouted at Kou Xuan, ordering him to drive the cart forward so that all the people on board disembarked.

Shao Qing leaped off the cart.

Kou Xuan was momentarily startled at the sight, but—as Wei Jing and Shao Qing had anticipated—he showed no sign of any flaw.

Layer upon layer, they passed through the inspections and finally cleared the checkpoint. Shao Qing climbed back onto the cart, and without asking any questions, Kou Xuan drove it to follow closely behind Yan Ming. The two carts then proceeded with the rest of the convoy that had already passed through.

After walking for a while, Wei Jing returned silently. Shao Qing, who had been somewhat nervous, breathed a sigh of relief and broke into a smile. Just as she parted her lips, about to speak in a low tone, she suddenly heard the sound of galloping hooves rushing from the road ahead.

The clatter of hooves—crisp, forceful, and very dense—revealed that a cavalry unit was approaching.

At that, Shao Qing’s brows immediately furrowed. It was well known that horses had become exceedingly valuable these days, regarded as strategic assets. Even a wealthy merchant without influential connections couldn’t obtain a single horse, let alone assemble a team. Therefore, the sudden appearance of such a large cavalry force most likely indicated an army. She quickly lifted a part of the curtain to peer outside.

There, a line of glossy, well-groomed steeds with riders clad in clearly defined armor sat astride, galloping rapidly as they followed a General in red armor. Indeed, it was a military unit.

These hundreds of soldiers had come to supervise the identification process. Clearly dissatisfied with the current situation, the General in red dismounted with a flourish, issuing a few stern scoldings. He then ordered his subordinates to distribute portraits and to compare them meticulously.

The county soldiers, who had been meek and compliant until now, hurriedly widened their eyes and scrutinized each face intently.

The focus of the inspection immediately shifted. More personnel were diverted to compare the portraits, which caused other parts of the check to be carried out rather sloppily.

For instance, they even loosened people’s clothing to inspect their collarbones.

At that moment, Shao Qing felt a strange sensation rising in her heart. Although she knew these were brush-painted portraits—not photographs—and that they had been hastily produced in large quantities with varying levels of skill among the artists and not copied from the original reference portrait, she had seen the wanted notice. At best, they resembled Wei Jing by only 20 to 30 percent; with just a bit of touchup, one might not recognize him at all.

What appeared to be a rigorous process was, in reality, riddled with numerous loopholes. What is going on?