Chapter 72: Meditations in the Trees

“Stop right there, all three of you, or I’ll shoot this old woman dead right now.” Two soldiers pinned Zhou Yi’s mother to the ground as Captain Ma pressed the cold barrel of his Ma pistol to her forehead, snarling viciously.

“Mother!” Zhou Mo’s heart lurched in terror at the sight. “Don’t hurt my mother! I’ll go with you, just don’t harm her!”

All this time, Baozi and Zhou Yi had always depended on Zhou Yi for decisions. Now, with Zhou Yi absent, Baozi scratched his head in dismay. “Third Brother, we can’t surrender our weapons. If we give in, these thugs won’t spare Auntie anyway. We’ll fight them!”

“But my mother is in their hands. She’ll die!” Zhou Mo was utterly at a loss. He threw his hunting rifle to the ground and dropped to his knees with a thud. “Please, don’t hurt my mother. I’ll go with you, just let her go!” he pleaded loudly.

“That’s more like it. Tie them up,” Captain Ma barked, convinced these three wouldn’t dare make any trouble. He holstered his pistol and ordered his men.

But the soldiers had forgotten about Xun Feng. When they arrived, they’d only noticed Xun Feng’s odd appearance and had carelessly looped a dog collar around his neck to restrain him. Xun Feng hadn’t moved the entire time. Now, as Captain Ma slid his pistol away, Xun Feng suddenly turned and sank his teeth into the soldier holding him, killing him instantly, then lunged straight at Captain Ma.

Captain Ma never anticipated such a turn; Xun Feng tackled him from behind and bit down hard on his throat.

The soldiers, seeing their captain under attack, immediately opened fire on Xun Feng. Xun Feng, having suffered from bullets before and learned well their pain, knew better than to linger. Letting go of Captain Ma, he leapt into the midst of the soldiers.

Seeing Xun Feng create an opening, Baozi shouted, “Rescue Auntie! Fight our way out!”

Zhou Mo, following Baozi’s cue, snatched his hunting rifle from the ground and struck the nearest soldier hard in the head, felling him instantly. He rushed to his mother’s side. “Mother, are you all right?”

By then, Baozi and Mu Chen had also charged over, leaving more than a dozen soldiers lying on the ground behind them—the two had shown no mercy. The three now shielded Zhou Mo’s mother in their midst, forming a protective circle once more.

“Well, well,” Captain Ma sneered, narrowing his eyes. “I see you rebels do have some skill. No wonder you dare defy the imperial court. But I advise you to surrender before you suffer more pain.”

Two dead, more than a dozen wounded—losses Captain Ma could ill afford. In contrast, Baozi, Mu Chen, and Zhou Mo were unscathed. What he thought would be a trifling matter had turned into a hard-fought battle, and he was already considering retreat.

“We truly don’t know what crime we’ve committed against the Emperor,” Mu Chen replied. “We only know that restoring the Qing cost our Brother Yi dearly—he defied fate itself, shortening his lifespan to change destiny. If you harm those who served with merit, aren’t you afraid Brother Yi will skin you alive when he returns?”

Mu Chen spoke earnestly, unaware of the deeds Zhou Yi had undertaken in the capital—he believed Zhou Yi had gone alone to receive promotion and reward.

“Shortening his lifespan?” Zhou Mo and Baozi both turned to Mu Chen, surprised. They hadn’t known that changing fate would exact such a price.

“This isn’t the time to discuss it. Let’s resolve the crisis at hand first,” Mu Chen replied, shaking his head.

“Is that true, or are you trying to fool me?” Captain Ma scrutinized Mu Chen’s words, finding them plausible—after all, his orders came from Zhang Xun, not from the Emperor himself.

“Of course it’s true. We’re not going anywhere. When Brother Yi returns, you’ll see for yourself,” Baozi said, hoping to buy time. None of them knew if Zhou Yi had gone to the capital to receive rewards, as he hadn’t said so when he left.

Zhou Mo had seen Zhou Yi depart, saying he was going out with Wu Qian, so he shouldn’t have gone far. It had already been three days; Zhou Yi should be back soon.

Indeed, the delay worked. Captain Ma, weighing his options, finally frowned and said, “Fine. We’ll return tomorrow. If your Brother Yi isn’t back by then, don’t blame me for showing no mercy.”

Captain Ma’s words were a convenient excuse to withdraw. Continuing the fight would only cause more casualties on his side; better to stall and plan something bigger—a stratagem, perhaps even a conspiracy.

He hadn’t become a captain by luck; the pause was sure to be followed by a more decisive move.

Baozi and Mu Chen were relieved to hear this and, after exchanging a few more words, the soldiers finally withdrew.

As soon as they left, Zhou Mo hurried to support his mother. She, already elderly and unable to endure such terror, clutched her chest and nearly fainted.

The three immediately fell into chaos.

Meanwhile, Zhou Yi had just left Shenyang when the Li Huo at his waist emitted a low hum, vibrating gently. The sense of foreboding in his heart faded—trouble at home must have passed—so he decided to stop and investigate.

He searched carefully around Shenyang and, on the eastern side, found soldiers standing guard. The site was a mass grave on the sunny slope of a mountain.

Around the graveyard were two tents, likely for the officers. But why would a mass grave need soldiers guarding it? Something was amiss.

Zhou Yi estimated there were more than a hundred guards here. This place must be connected to the key he was seeking—otherwise, Li Huo wouldn’t have reacted.

The Li Huo at his waist vibrated even more intensely, as if eager to break free. He quickly pressed it down and leapt into a tree, settling on a branch to observe the graveyard on the mountainside.

Soldiers moved in and out of the tents, but the officers never emerged. Growing impatient, Zhou Yi’s eyes gleamed; he chopped down a thick branch and hurled it at the tents.

The branch, weighing at least two hundred pounds, crashed onto one tent, collapsing it instantly. Several soldiers rushed over to remove the branch and rescued two officers from inside. When Zhou Yi saw their faces, he frowned—it was Ji Liang and his nephew, Ji Yulin.

Ji Liang’s luck was remarkable; a dagger had failed to finish him off before.

Li Huo’s reaction just now meant that one or two of the eight keys must be nearby. Ji Liang and Ji Yulin must be here to collect those keys as well.

The tents and more than a hundred guards showed they knew exactly what they were after—they’d come for the key.

But why did they want it?

Zhou Yi couldn’t fathom it. Few knew of the key’s existence; Zhang Xun was one of the few who knew the truth. How had Ji Yulin and Ji Liang found out?

These two weren’t exactly Zhou Yi’s enemies; there’d only been one prior conflict, with losses on both sides. Zhou Yi was both vengeful and tolerant; since they hadn’t crossed his bottom line, he didn’t see them as enemies—at least not yet.

Nor were they friends. If they, too, were seeking all eight keys, then their interests clashed. If they could cooperate, they might be partners; if not, rivals.

Everything was a mystery. Zhou Yi pondered for a long time. Perhaps it was all connected to the gold hidden in Nurhaci’s tomb.

Unable to unravel the puzzle, Zhou Yi resolved to watch and wait. Once they found the key, he would let them toil for the prize—then swoop in, the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.