Chapter 41: A little push
The old man shook his head, leathery face creasing. "That was a week ago, I think? Time has blurred. Haven’t heard a word since."
Jiao Yin said nothing.
Kian stepped forward and crouched to meet the old man’s eyes. "The city—how do people get there? Is there a road?"
Uncle Wen pointed his whittled stick toward the far end of the village. "A trading carriage leaves at sundown. Merchant named Du, runs supplies between here and the city gates. He’s loading up now. If you’ve got coin, he’ll take you."
Kian straightened and looked at the girls.
Mia nodded before he could ask. Jia was already adjusting her grip on her travel chest, her jaw set.
They all wanted to leave to the cities instead of remaining in the village.
Feimei simply tilted her head toward the far end of the village and murmured, "Let’s move."
Kian looked at Jiao Yin’s expression, then dropped a small bag of coins in the old man’s hand. "There is quite some money here. Spread them among yourself. Don’t try to keep all for yourself or I’ll find you."
He walked forward, quickly followed by the girls.
"Thank you," Jiao Yin said.
"It’s just mortal coin. It means nothing to me."
"It means a lot to the villagers. That old man is our chief, and he would be able to use it for something good."
Kian fumbled in his pack and threw another pouch at the old man. Then, they all continued walking.
"I wish we could stay here in this village," came a voice only Kian and Feimei could hear. "With your skills, it would not be that difficult to turn this village into a city."
It was Fang Ping, the spirit.
Kian nodded in thought. "But no, this place is too close to the sect. I am pretty sure some cultivator is already hiding here."
"Indeed."
They found the trading carriage at the edge of the village, a hulking ox-drawn cart piled high with sacks of dried herbs and bolts of rough-spun cloth.
There were also horses walking along with the carriage.
The merchant, a squat man with a sweat-stained collar and a face like a clenched fist, agreed to take seven passengers for the price of five hundred mortal coins, which was pennies to Kian.
Kian paid without haggling, then turned to Hua Shulong, who was standing apart from the group. She was looking around curiously.
"Goodbye then, my first enemy. You were quite interesting," Kian told her.
Hua Shulong blinked those crimson eyes at him, and her lips curved into something that was almost a smile but not quite. "Me?"
"Yeah you."
"Oh..."
They climbed onto the cart one by one—first Feimei, then Jiao Yin, then the twins, and finally Kian, who took a seat at the rear with his legs dangling off the edge.
The merchant cracked his whip, the ox lowed, and the cart lurched forward with a groan of protesting wood.
Kian watched the village shrink behind them, and there, still standing at the edge of the road with the dust settling around her bound figure, was Hua Shulong.
She didn’t wave. She didn’t call out. She simply watched them go with the patient, unblinking curiosity of someone who didn’t remember anything, her red eyes catching the slanting afternoon light.
The merchant said from the front: "That girl is real pretty, young master. Why did you leave her behind?"
Jia scowled at the man. "Mind your own business before I make you."
The fatty smirked, shrugging. "That girl is so pretty. Someone would probably come and try to kidnap her. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Likelihood is that she’d be taken as someone’s servant within a week."
Feimei shook her head.
Who was Hua Shulong?
Even without cultivation, Hua Shulong’s body was much stronger. Her survival instincts were stronger as well. Even if tens of mortals attacked her, it was not going to be possible for them to harm her.
Not to mention, both Feimei and Kian knew that Hua Shulong still had her insects. It was just hidden. If threatened, those insects would leave hiding and attack her enemies.
The cart rocked over a rut, and Hua Feimei rose from her seat among the bundled herbs.
She stepped over Jia’s outstretched legs and settled herself on the rear edge beside Kian, her robe pooling around her like spilled wine.
The ox plodded on, and the cart’s wooden slats groaned beneath them, but she didn’t speak—just let her crimson eyes fix on the figure still standing in the road.
Behind them, Mia and Jia shifted closer to the cart’s edge, their shoulders brushing as they watched.
Jiao Yin turned too, one hand gripping the side rail. None of them said a word.
The dust the cart kicked up hung in the air like a veil, and through it, Hua Shulong’s bound form shrank by degrees—first her face blurred into a pale smudge, then her robes merged with the brown of the road, then she was a stick figure, then a dot.
Kian felt the silence settle over the cart like a held breath.
The merchant was smart enough to stop talking. Even the ox seemed to lower its head and pull with quieter steps. The sun slid a fraction lower, and the road curved, and when the cart straightened again, the dot was gone.
Kian reached over and draped his arm around Hua Feimei’s shoulders. She didn’t stiffen or pull away; her body leaned into his side with a weight that was more exhaustion than affection.
Her skin was cool through the silk, and a single strand of her long black hair caught on his sleeve.
"Your son will live a decent life here," Kian said, voice low enough that only she could hear.
Feimei nodded.
Mia came upto her and hugged her as well.
Kian looked at Jia, who clearly wanted to follow, but was too embarrassed to do so.
A simple Qi push was all she needed.