Chapter 14: Eliminating Evil (4)

Chapter 14: Eliminating the Evil (Part 4)

The blindfold was a strip of cloth cut from old clothes; the material was poor and too thin to block the light. Through a hazy veil of gauze, she saw a thin back hunched before a small stove. He was so gaunt he almost seemed to melt into the dim firelight, and even his voice was listless: "It's good that you're awake."

Zhaozhao breathed a sigh of relief, her heavy heart finally finding a moment of pleasure. She added two pieces of firewood to the stove and said to herself, "Yesterday, I was returning late with a friend when, somehow, I tumbled into a mountain ravine. I was startled by all the corpses lying about, scattered here and there. The two of us originally intended to run, but then—"

She lifted her skirt, regardless of whether he could see it, and patted the lingering marks on her calf. "You reached out a hand from that pile of dead bodies, and by some stroke of luck, you grabbed me. My heart softened, so I brought you back."

Zhaozhao believed this explanation was seamless. Was there anyone in this world more charitable than her? No.

She pricked up her ears, waiting for him to express his gratitude so she could take advantage of the situation and demand a price of one hundred taels. To her surprise, he remained silent, showing neither gratitude nor asking further about her identity.

Suspecting he was weak and frail, and that he had fallen back asleep upon waking, Zhaozhao reached out to remove the cloth from his eyes.

As the cloth was removed, a pair of long, elegant eyes appeared, gleaming with a sharp light as they stared coldly at her.

It turned out he hadn't been asleep; he was merely waiting, waiting to hear what else she would say.

"Where is my blade?" he asked.

In the brothels, people came and went, and Zhaozhao had heard all sorts of voices, but none were as strange as this man's—it wasn't unpleasant, even quite clear and pleasant to the ear, but it was so calm it lacked any inflection, revealing no emotion whatsoever.

"A blade?" She smiled with feigned nonchalance. "I was too busy picking you up to notice any blade."

He averted his eyes, tilting his head slightly to look at a clutter of items by the pillow. These were things she had fished out of his old clothes, among which was a flash of red and white—the tassel from his blade.

The tassel was stained with blood and could not be washed clean, appearing somewhat blackened. Because of this, Zhaozhao had simply torn it off rather than taking the blade to a pawnshop along with it.

The smile on Zhaozhao's face froze for an instant, but she quickly adapted. "To tell you the truth, my family is impoverished, and I had no money to buy medicine for your injuries. Out of desperation, I had no choice but to pawn your blade."

She had lied boldly from the start, and he already didn't believe her, but seeing the dilapidated room with its slanted beams and broken tiles, her claim of poverty might not be entirely false.

He lowered his thick, long eyelashes and said indifferently, "Redeem the blade."

Zhaozhao stared at him, looking him up and down, unable to see how this man resembled a fool. Not only did he fail to thank her upon waking, but even after she mentioned her family's poverty, he still spoke to her in a commanding tone, telling her to redeem the blade.

This attitude of taking things for granted while ordering others around was even more egregious than that of Squire Zhao.

"Hey," she said, waving her hand in front of his eyes, amused. "I said I'm poor—so poor I can't even afford to eat. Do you not understand?"

His expression remained indifferent; clearly, he did not believe her.

Following his gaze, Zhaozhao finally noticed she was still wearing the clothes she used to receive guests. Although the fabric wasn't silk or satin, it was glaringly out of place in the surrounding ruin.

Thinking this was a perfect opportunity, she immediately said, "Appearances can be deceiving. Don't think that just because I'm well-dressed, I have plenty of money."

With total openness, she pulled down her collar to reveal the brand of her low status on her shoulder.

Her skin looked pale and clean under the firelight. He closed his eyes as she continued her rambling, "See? I'm a prostitute. Do you realize how much trouble I've gone through to save you? I truly have no money to redeem your blade... However, do you still have family at home?"

"Yes."

Zhaozhao smiled. "Then I'll help you write a letter to request some funds to buy your medicine and redeem your blade."

Her words were considerate and reasonable, even somewhat gentle. However, from beginning to end, she never once entertained the thought of untying his hands and feet.

He saw through her clearly; the person before him was by no means a good sort. Her motivation for saving him was quite improper, almost as if she were running a kidnapping racket within the brothel. "How much?"

Zhaozhao rubbed her hands together. "Not too much. Just one hundred taels to cover the travel expenses and medicine for saving you will do."

His expression remained unchanged; he could likely afford that price.

Since that was the case, Zhaozhao didn't bother to probe further into his identity. She had picked him up for one hundred taels, so she wanted one hundred taels. After all, she wasn't a real bandit; she didn't have the audacity to hike up the price. If it were any more, she would be afraid—afraid that he might have a powerful background and she would end up losing more than she gained.

Untying one of his hands, she set down a bowl of water. "Write it on the ground, and I will copy it."

He dipped his fingers in the water. Under the firelight, his long fingers had the luster of jade as they traced lines across the floor.

His handwriting was like his character; even Zhaozhao, who was as blind as a bat, could tell it was beautiful. It was a pity that several deep, bone-deep wounds on his body made his hand tremble slightly, marring the elegance of the characters.

As she watched, she instructed him on how to write—that this was Qingyang County, and the money should be sent to a certain ruined temple in the southwest of the county, pressed under a specific stone brick, and that "I" would return home once my injuries healed.

Once he finished writing, Zhaozhao grabbed his wrist and began negotiating how to tie him back up. "Don't take offense. My mother and I worked so hard to stay in this house; if we're discovered secretly bringing someone back, we might not even have this broken shack to live in."

With that, she grabbed the cloth that had previously blindfolded him, bit her fingertip, and began copying the characters. They were characters written in blood, pieced together somewhat clumsily, making them very striking at first glance.

Seeing her write a few words and then bite her fingertip, he gasped in pain but remained unyielding. He said indifferently, "If you have no brush or ink, charcoal will suffice."

In the warm firelight, Zhaozhao looked back with a smile, her youthful face full of cunning. "Writing in blood will make your family send the silver faster."

"..."

After finishing the characters on the ground, Zhaozhao memorized the address for the letter. Before leaving, she engaged in a bit more idle chatter.

She asked how to address him; he said it wasn't necessary. She asked his identity; he said he had none.

When she asked again, he simply did not answer. He was too lazy to make things up, too lazy to lie, and even more lazy to become entangled with a small, ill-intentioned prostitute.

If he wouldn't answer, he wouldn't answer. Zhaozhao couldn't sense any grand or intimidating aura from him, so she assumed he wasn't a great figure and felt relieved.

After brewing the medicine, she took the cloth and left the room, feeling an indescribable sense of satisfaction.

It wasn't because the cloth in her hand might be worth a hundred taels, but because she realized that she and Squire Zhao were both born with black hearts—equally hypocritical, and equally prone to bullying the weak.

Since no one was a good person, there was no need to feel wronged. It wasn't worth crying over being bitten all over by one beast when you were another beast yourself.

One could only hate their own lack of strength while sharpening their claws and teeth, waiting for the moment to take revenge.

Mama Yu wanted her to please the man named Zhao, but she refused. Times change, and we shall see! Let's see who tears the flesh out of whom first!