Chapter 28: Song Zhiqie’s Vigil

 

Song Zhiqie boiled water with trembling hands and clumsily wiped Song Huiya’s face. The steam rose softly into the dim room, yet her heart refused to calm. Still shaken, she stood beside the bed gripping a damp cloth, pacing back and forth for a long time before finally remembering to change the water.

The wooden bed was cold and hard.

She climbed onto it carefully, intending to change her master’s clothes, but the fabric had already stuck to the wound. She tried several times, her fingers shaking, yet she did not dare pull harder. Fear stopped her each time.

In the end, she gave up.

She called out softly several times, but there was no response.

She climbed down obediently.

“Master, are you testing me? To see if I've learned my lesson? I won't fall for it. I've learned my lesson. I won't do the things you forbade me to do again.”

Song Zhiqie leaned closer, forcing herself to make a funny face, hoping to wake her master.

But when her gaze fell upon the exposed hand—

Her expression slowly darkened.

Silence settled in.

The wound was terrifying.

The flesh had split open, the blood dark and thick. In just half a day it had already begun to fester, looking even worse than the injury from Wuming Cliff. Song Zhiqie stared for a long time, and the thought that her master might die pressed heavily upon her chest.

She slid to the ground.

Tears fell uncontrollably.

This room had long been unoccupied and empty. Before leaving, Bei Tu had given her some silver, which she carefully hid beneath the bed.

Outside, Duanyan City had fallen into chaos.

Joyous celebration and simmering resentment mixed together. With the fall of Duan Yanmen’s control, hidden dangers emerged from every corner like monsters breaking free from cages.

Song Zhiqie listened to the noise from outside.

She was too afraid to step out.

After tightly shutting the doors and windows, she pushed tables and chairs against them, building a fragile barricade against her fear.

Around noon, disciplined troops suddenly entered the city.

Soldiers marched through the streets, arresting troublemakers and publicly announcing their crimes. Punishments were carried out swiftly. Within half a day, the unrest subsided and the city regained temporary order.

Only then did Song Zhiqie crawl under the bed.

She counted her silver carefully.

After hesitating for a long time, she took half and slipped outside.

All along the way she worried about how to buy medicine without exposing Song Huiya’s identity.

Gathering her courage, she visited several clinics, but every door was closed.

No doctor could be found.

Left with no choice, she wandered toward Kite Lane, hoping to find Bei Tu.

There was no one there.

Only a soldier stood guard outside a thatched hut.

Song Zhiqie did not dare approach. She walked through the streets aimlessly, fidgeting with her fingers, her thoughts spiraling into restless speculation.

Her master had returned with a sword.

She would not have left Bei Tu alone.

So he must be somewhere in the city.

Perhaps he had been discovered by imperial soldiers while seeking treatment.

Perhaps—

Her imagination ran wildly.

Like a headless fly, she asked for directions to the busiest place nearby.

Unexpectedly, she found it.

Following the crowd to a street corner, she noticed dark traces of blood within the footprints.

Her heart tightened.

She was already seventy percent certain.

The person inside was Bei Tu.

A line of armored soldiers guarded the earthen steps. Several others stood in the courtyard. Ordinary civilians kept their distance.

Song Zhiqie pressed herself against the wall and moved forward in small steps.

Seeing her young age, the soldiers did not make things difficult. They drove her away once, but when she lingered stubbornly, they allowed her to remain near the entrance.

The roof of the house had already collapsed inward.

Beneath the broken beams stood an old man examining a body.

He sighed deeply.

“He went this morning.”

The old man knelt and gently arranged the body.

Emotion rose within him, and as if needing someone to listen, he began speaking slowly.

“That Bei Tu fellow is indeed exceptionally intelligent. He's incredibly clever when it comes to swordsmanship. Unfortunately, he never found a master, only hitting a dead end. He's traveled all over the country for decades, figuring out his own technique, practicing it haphazardly, and recklessly creating a unique style. He himself knows that the technique is extremely evil; using it once shortens one's life, so he doesn't take on any disciples. But in this world, a strong fist is more important than a long life. He doesn't listen to other people's reasoning, so he has no choice but to risk his life. He's quite a strange man, seeing things through to the end.”

Nearby, a masked young man knelt quietly.

His eyes were red.

“Where is she?” he asked urgently.

“I don't know!” the old scholar replied truthfully, growing frustrated. “We both have two legs, but even birds can't fly as fast as her! She disappears in the blink of an eye, and I, this old man, chase after her, but she doesn't even acknowledge me. She used to ask me for money, but now she won't even take it. It's truly strange.”

The masked youth remained silent.

Old Zhou awkwardly added:

“Don't worry, your senior sister is very lucky. If she were dead, Bei Tu would drag her back no matter what.”

The youth suddenly spoke again.

“Explain?!” A-Mian turned his head away, coldly snorting, “Didn't my senior sister give them a way out? Let them choose, and they chose the worst one! They killed people, two lives, and they're not even as important as the dignity of a murderer. People like that truly deserve to die!”

His voice grew stronger with every word.

“When they're in the wrong, they invoke national righteousness to reason with them, while my senior sister is simply teaching them the principles of being a decent human being. They force the people to bow to the world, forcing them to act like fools, all with the swords in their hands! How is what my senior sister is doing any different from what they're doing? She's just making them bow to the people. 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,' isn't that the way a gentleman governs people? Why do you say she's wrong?!”

Old Zhou blinked helplessly.

“I didn't say she was wrong either.”

“My senior sister doesn't need to explain her actions to anyone!”

Old Zhou silently clicked his tongue.

He turned away.

“Where's my apprentice? You brat! Get in here and lend a hand!”

In the courtyard, a boy was crouching beside a water vat watching insects float on the surface.

He brushed aside leaves and suddenly noticed a girl standing beyond the fence.

Her eyes were red.

“Who are you looking for?”

Song Zhiqie’s voice trembled.

“Who's inside? Is he still alive?”

The boy hesitated.

“Bei Tu, a very powerful swordsman. Do you know him?”

Song Zhiqie burst into tears.

“Grandpa—!”

She rushed inside.

The boy followed in surprise.

Song Zhiqie stumbled forward and dropped to her knees. Crawling across the floor, she grabbed Bei Tu’s hand.

It was cold.

Pain tightened around her chest.

She slapped herself twice.

“I'll never speak so ill of you again, Grandpa! I said I'd see you off in your final days just to annoy you, I wasn't serious. It's because I'm so cheap and stubborn, and I still can't speak properly, I was wrong, Grandpa!”

Old Zhou quickly stopped her.

“You little girl, what nonsense are you talking about?”

She kowtowed repeatedly.

“It was my fault, Grandpa, wake up! I'll sweep the yard every day from now on, and I'll do whatever you say. You'll definitely live to be a hundred!”

A-Mian suddenly stepped forward.

“Where's Song Huiya?”

Song Zhiqie cried harder.

“I don't know.”

A-Mian grabbed her shoulders.

“Didn't you come here with Song Huiya?”

Song Zhiqie hesitated.

Then she remembered how Song Huiya avoided her junior brother before.

“I’m a refugee who fled from the north. My grandfather saw I couldn't survive, so he kindly took me in. I don't know that person's name is Song something-ya. She went out with my grandfather yesterday and never came back.”

Old Zhou waved his hand.

“Forget it. Why would such a young child lie to you? Calm down.”

A-Mian fell silent.

After a long moment—

He left.

---

The group changed Bei Tu into clean clothing and placed him into a coffin.

Night fell slowly.

Song Zhiqie wore mourning clothes and kept vigil in the courtyard.

Later, A-Mian returned.

“Divine Physician Zhou.”

“Just call me Uncle Zhou,” the old scholar replied. “If you call me Divine Physician, I'll always try to charge you.”

“I have to leave tomorrow. If you see my senior sister, please pass on a message to her for me.”

“Understood.”

He left again.

Song Zhiqie suddenly ran forward.

“Miracle Doctor! Grandpa Zhou!”

She stretched both hands.

“Grandpa is so cold. We can't afford a doctor. Please have mercy and give us some medicine.”

The old scholar bent down gently.

“Child, the dead can't be brought back to life.”

“He's just sick, his body is cold. Maybe he'll wake up after a nap,” Song Zhiqie said with an innocent smile. “I just heard him talking to me. He told me to go back and rest early. He also told me to cover him with another blanket because it's windy in the yard.”

Old Zhou fell silent.

Then the girl suddenly burst into tears.

“Please, Dr. Zhou, I beg you, any medicine will do. He has so much blood on him; every time I close my eyes, I feel him screaming in pain. I've heard that even the dead have a breath left; please don't let him go to the underworld in such agony. Maybe this medicine will help? I'll kneel before you.”

Old Zhou quickly lifted her up.

“Alright… alright.”

He handed her two pills.

“Thank you, Dr. Zhou.”

She ran to the coffin.

Climbed inside.

Curled beside the body.

When Old Zhou approached, she was already half asleep.

He tried to pull her out.

She shook her head.

---

The next morning, Old Zhou brought a bowl of congee.

“Don't blame me…”

He squinted into the coffin.

Song Zhiqie—

Was gone.