Seeing Li Chi Jing's still tender face covered with a fierce expression, Ye Chengfu paused in the crowd, torch in hand, stroked his chin, and pondered aloud,
"This fourth son is probably not an easy one to deal with either. With the leading stag dead, of the three remaining vicious wolves, the eldest is cunning, and the youngest is ferocious. In no more than ten years, Lijing Village will inevitably become the Li Family's word alone, I suppose!"
After a few moments of silence, someone quietly replied,
"Changhu was killed by the aggrieved people!"
Li Xiangping, holding back tears, knelt beside Li Changhu and turned to look at Tian Shoushui, his voice choked with sobs,
"Uncle Tian, what's happening here?"
"Most likely the remnants of the Yuan Family."
Li Mutian squeezed a few words through gritted teeth, glancing at Tian Shoushui, who was ashamed and silent with his head lowered, then at the villagers around him, and called out,
"Li Tongya!"
Li Tongya, upon hearing this, wiped away his tears, stepped forward, and cupped his hands to the villagers, raising his voice,
"I apologize for disturbing everyone tonight. Please, you may disperse and need not linger here any longer."
Having said that, he then stooped to help up Liu Linfeng, whispering in his ear,
"I ask you to lead the way in controlling those refugees, uncle, to prevent anyone from causing trouble amidst the chaos. We will follow shortly."
"Alright, alright…"
Liu Linfeng, who had been cowering before Li Mutian as if on pins and needles, seemed relieved upon hearing this and quickly agreed, leading people away.
Tian Shoushui and Ren Ping'an carefully laid Li Changhu down in the Li Family's backyard, only to hear a burst of crying from the main courtyard. It was the Ren Clan who, having heard the terrible news, had fainted. Tian Yun and the Liu Clan were holding back their tears, one caring for her while the other hurried to find a doctor.
"Big brother…"
Tian Shoushui laid down Li Changhu, his eyes brimming with tears, about to say something when Li Mutian gestured for him to stop and spoke tiredly,
"Ping'an, go check on Madam Ren. Shoushui, you go with Linfeng to watch over the refugees. Without the Li Family's statement, he's probably helpless."
"Yes."
Tian Shoushui stood there stunned, wiping away tears before obediently withdrawing. Ren Ping'an also numbly nodded and went to look after Ren Ping'er.
With outsiders gone from the backyard, only the Li brothers remained, weeping softly in low voices.
Finally, unable to restrain himself, Li Mutian sat down beside his eldest son like an injured lone wolf and began to howl quietly.
"Changhu…"
The brothers cried together, Li Tongya and Li Xiangping still somewhat restrained, while Li Chi Jing, still young, cried as if his heart would break.
————
At the dead of night, chaos reigned in Lijing Village. Old man Xu, leaning on his hoe, made his way alone to the back hill and followed a winding path through the overgrown weeds, arriving at a sprawling field of graves.
Old man Xu paused and focused his gaze. Indeed, there sat a young man in tattered clothes with a piece of animal skin draped over his waist, casually seated beside a small gravestone in the corner, legs stretched out, muttering to himself.
With a twitch of his ear, the young man quickly looked up, and upon seeing only a simple old peasant who seemed barely able to walk, he even clapped his hands and laughed, cocking his head as he asked,
"Old man, where do you hail from!"
Old man Xu ignored him and intentionally walked very slowly, shuffling tremulously towards him, and with a wary look at the young man, he knelt beside the grave, embraced the tombstone, and began to cry softly.
Upon careful listening, the youth discerned faintly murmured words of great vengeance being avenged and the master's spirit being laid to rest, stirring an impulse within his heart.
Having endured a shattered family and vagrancy from a young age, he spent his earlier years as a tenant for others, clenching this dagger every night to practice tirelessly, solely hoping to one day sever Li Mutian's head with his own hands to honor his parents.
Now that his great revenge was nearing fulfillment, his heart swelled with extreme satisfaction. He longed to voice thousands of words, yet found no one by his side to share in his joy and contentment. Wouldn't discussing it with this old man, then killing him before leaving, be killing two birds with one stone?
With this thought in mind, the youth began smiling and said,
"You weep over the Yuan Family's grave here, aren't you scared the Li Family will trouble you?"
"Old man doesn't have many days left..."
Old Xu wiped away tears and glanced up at the youth with a start, his expression turning to one of profound shock; he knelt down and exclaimed,
"Young master!"
"Hmm?"
The youth was taken aback, thinking to himself,
"Could this old man have seen me at the village head? Perhaps I should just kill him and flee, better to avoid complications."
Yet Old Xu, holding back his tears, spoke again,
"The Lady often brought the young master to sit atop the fields, so I recognize you, sir. I still remember the three black moles on your foot as proof."
Having lived for over seventy years, Old Xu had grown wily with age. With his unexpected claim, he startled the youth enough to dissolve his murderous intent. In bewilderment, the young man quickly inquired,
"Then, do you remember what my mother looked like?"
"Of course, I do."
Old Xu pulled out a tree branch from the stack of hay and loosened the soil with a hoe before starting to sketch diligently.
The youth, filled with agitation, kept glancing down at Old Xu with a brooding look, his thoughts flickering rapidly, alternating between killing the old man and taking him captive, eager to learn more about his mother.
Before long, Old Xu stood up having finished the sketch. Although but a farmer, he'd spent years painting door gods and auspicious images for the villagers. With time he had developed some skill in the arts, and his few strokes captured the essence of the person, making it appear lifelike.
"Mother!"
The youth knelt down, gazing upon the face that haunted his dreams. As he saw those vaguely familiar brows and eyes, he started sobbing softly. Twenty-two years of grievances and suppression flooded him all at once, and he couldn't help but cry torrents of tears.
Old Xu lamented by his side, incessantly praising the Lady. The more he spoke, the less the youth could hold back his tears.
"I still remember the master's face; let me draw it for you."
Having heard Old Xu's words, the youth believed him considerably and, without lifting his head and still wiping away his tears, agreed.
As Old Xu raised his hoe to loosen the soil for drawing, a fierce resolve showed in his eyes. The hoe was raised high, its shiny silver blade catching a fleeting glint in the moonlight, and with a swift descent, it smashed toward the youth's neck.
Having travelled with refugees all day and exerted himself to assassinate Li Changhu, then eluding Tian Shoushui in the reed marshes, the youth was already weak from exhaustion. Overwhelmed by the intense emotions, his legs had given out, and with neither the will nor the means to dodge, he took the full brunt of Old Xu's blow.
Regular toil had kept Old Xu robust; the thud of the impact was a sound of bones crunching and muscles splitting. The youth collapsed straight to the ground, his head tilting back, his eyes rolling white, his limbs twitching uncontrollably, froth spewing from his mouth.
The old man, capitalizing on the youth's fall, struck his head again with the hoe, robbing him of breath permanently.
Unsatisfied, Old Xu savagely struck several more times, flinging blood and flesh. As he turned the youth's body over and saw that he was breathless, the corpse's face still bore traces of sorrow.
Only then did Old Xu finally collapse, exhausted. He sat down on the ground, covering his face with his withered hands, and began wailing in agony,
"What a calamitous fate! Oh, what a calamitous fate..."