Chapter 26

Lin Qing did not know how long she had been drifting. The river was turbulent; she would sink, only to surface again, unaware of the passage of time.

She did not know when she had lost consciousness. When she finally opened her eyes in a daze, all she saw was a blurred night sky—she could not tell if the day had dawned and turned dark again, or if it had never been light at all.

Tall reeds surrounded her, obscuring the landscape. She had no idea where she was. Her body felt as if it had been dismantled; the wound on her shoulder had turned white from soaking in the water, and her back ached, likely bruised from some unseen impact. Yet, in such circumstances, surviving at all was a stroke of fortune.

The water here was shallow. Lin Qing caught her breath, pushed aside the driftwood, drove her long sword into the mud, and slowly pulled herself up to a sitting position. Her sodden clothes clung to her, chilling her to the bone. Her head felt as heavy as lead, as if it might snap off her neck at any moment.

Taking a deep, forced breath, she dragged herself step by step out of the muddy reed marsh. Beyond the reeds lay vast stretches of paddy fields, lush and green. As it was night, there was no one about; only the occasional chorus of insects and frogs pulled her back to the world of the living. She needed food, clean clothes, and medicine.

Calculating her next move, Lin Qing crossed the fields and spotted a village. It was quiet in the dead of night, the main path paved with blue bricks and the houses on either side mostly roofed with tiles. It was clearly a prosperous village.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed in her ears. Lin Qing looked up to see a point of light moving toward her. Just as she was about to vault over a wall to hide, she caught the scent of bitter medicinal herbs drifting from a nearby courtyard. Instinctively, she changed direction and leapt into that yard.

The elderly man carrying the lantern took a few more steps, peering around suspiciously. "Strange, I thought I saw a shadow here. Am I just old and muddled, or..." Shuddering, the old man hurried away.

Pressed against the wall, Lin Qing listened carefully to the fading sounds outside and finally let out a breath. In her current state, she was in no condition to fight.

The courtyard was small but tidy, with wooden racks in the center drying medicinal herbs. Two mud-brick houses with partial tiling stood there. The main room was lit, casting a silhouette against the worn paper window; the figure seemed to be flipping through a book, and judging by the hairstyle, it was a man.

Lin Qing shifted her gaze to a small stove in the kitchen where medicine was brewing—the source of the fragrance she had smelled. It seemed this household practiced medicine.

She took a step, but her foot caught on something. A rope snare tightened instantly around her ankle, followed by a series of clanging sounds. Lin Qing froze. Who was she? Where was she? What was she doing? Why did even a simple farmer know how to set traps?

Before she could cut the rope, the door to the main room opened. A young man stepped out, walking with a limp and leaning on a crutch, holding an oil lamp in his other hand. "Are you... Lin Qing?"

Lin Qing’s hand tightened around the hilt of her sword. Standing against the light, she could not make out the man’s face.

"I am Zhou Fusheng, from the same place as you," Zhou Fusheng said, limping over to release the trap. "Have you forgotten?"

Lin Qing stared at his face, momentarily dazed. He had delicate, fair features, and his peach-blossom eyes were filled with excitement and joy. She felt a vague sense of confusion. Did she know this person? She couldn't recall, but that didn't stop her from playing along. She slapped her thigh and exclaimed, "It’s you!"

Zhou Fusheng chuckled and shook his head. "You’ve forgotten."

Lin Qing: "..."

"We entered the Dark Division in the same batch. I remember you were only five years old, the youngest among us, small and thin," Zhou Fusheng said, gesturing with his hand, his smile impossible to suppress. "Everyone thought you’d be the first to die, but you were the only one who lived to the end."

Lin Qing: "..."

Zhou Fusheng continued, "You don't remember, but you saved me. I was starving, and you gave me half of your steamed bun."

Lin Qing’s dazed mind searched back through the layers of her childhood memories until she finally found a small, dark, thin boy in a corner of her mind. "Zhou... Fusheng?"

"You remembered." Zhou Fusheng patted her shoulder, only to realize her clothes were dripping wet. "Why are your clothes soaked? Are you hurt?"

He pulled her toward the house. Lin Qing’s legs felt like jelly, and seeing his disability, she didn't resist as he led her inside. The room was clean, featuring a heated brick bed (kang) with a small table on it, and two wooden cabinets on the floor.

Zhou Fusheng placed the lamp on the low table and took a set of clothes from the cabinet. "These are new; I haven't worn them yet. Change out of your wet things, and I’ll tend to your wounds." With that, he left.

Knowing her condition was dire, Lin Qing peeled off her wet clothes. Her bundle was lost, so she had no chest binder and had to wring out her inner garment to reuse it. Once she had changed, Zhou Fusheng returned with a bowl of black, bitter medicinal soup.

"To drive out the cold," he said. Lin Qing took it, sniffed it, and downed it in one gulp. He then brought over medicine for her wounds and sat to the side.

After bandaging herself, Lin Qing asked, "You didn't die?" Aside from training, the members of the Dark Division were sent on various missions. All twenty-plus children in her batch had perished; she had been the only survivor.

Zhou Fusheng smiled, though he seemed unwilling to discuss his missions. "I fell off a cliff and was rescued by a passing merchant caravan. Unfortunately, this leg couldn't be saved." He tapped his right leg. "A physician in the caravan took pity on me and made me his apprentice. After the caravan disbanded, I followed him to this Little Fish Village. A few years later, my master passed away. In my condition, I couldn't return to the Dark Division, so I stayed here as a barefoot doctor, scraping by."

Lin Qing felt that while she was never one to be at a loss for words, she didn't know what to say to Zhou Fusheng. She did not fully trust him, but in the Dark Division, one remained a "ghost" of the organization until death. She couldn't kill him in good conscience, nor could she drag him back to the Tianlu Bureau to be locked away in darkness forever.

She remained silent. Zhou Fusheng, seemingly oblivious to her unease, blinked and said, "Stay here and rest. It’s not too late to leave once your wounds have healed."

Lin Qing refused. "It’s just a minor injury. I have things to do; I cannot stay long."

"In your current state, you’ll likely collapse before you even leave the village." Zhou Fusheng looked at her, his eyes full of concern. "I don't know what you’ve been through or why you are so badly hurt, but I know the rules of the Dark Division. I will see nothing, hear nothing, and ask nothing. I only ask that you recover your health—consider it me repaying the favor of you saving my life."

Lin Qing did not fear malice; if others were evil, she could be more evil. What she feared was a kindness she could not repay. She could feel that Zhou Fusheng’s concern was genuine, but she didn't remember the life-saving grace he spoke of. If she relied on that to accept his help, her remaining conscience would surely suffer.

Zhou Fusheng clapped his hands. "How about this? I’ve run into some trouble recently. For the sake of our time in the Dark Division, please help me out while you recover, all right?"

Since he had provided her with a perfect excuse, Lin Qing felt that if she refused, she would be acting hypocritical.

Zhou Fusheng left happily, even preparing bedding for her before he went. Lin Qing locked the door, tore open the belt of her wet clothes, and retrieved a small oil-paper packet containing a hundred-tael silver note. She tucked the money into the bottom of the cabinet. Zhou Fusheng’s life did not seem prosperous; this money should help him live a little better. As for the rest, she would have to wait and see.

Lin Qing spent the night in a daze. When she woke in the morning, she was drenched in sweat, though the bedding felt damp, and her body felt significantly lighter. The air was filled with the aroma of steamed buns drifting in from the window, and the sound of roosters crowing and dogs barking greeted her ears.

She threw on an outer garment and stepped outside to find Zhou Fusheng busy in the kitchen. Her memory of him remained blurred—not just him, but all the other children from that time remained as faint, distant shadows deep in her memories. Was meeting him truly a coincidence? Or was she falling into another trap?

Zhou Fusheng was picking steamed buns out of the steamer and turned to offer Lin Qing a bright, sunny smile.

Lin Qing lowered her eyes, masking her thoughts in an instant, and walked over with a smile. "Your skills are quite good. Look at these buns—white, plump, and fluffy."

"I learned from the auntie next door," Zhou Fusheng said, looking shy. "My leg isn't good, so I can't always bother others, so I learn a little bit of everything."

Inside the kitchen was a square wooden table, likely where Zhou Fusheng usually ate. On it sat a bowl of stewed chicken and a plate of pickled vegetables. Lin Qing brought the buns to the table, and Zhou Fusheng handed her a bowl and chopsticks. "The food in the countryside is simple, but this is a wild pheasant from the mountain. It tastes quite good. I pickled these vegetables myself; they should help with your appetite."

Zhou Fusheng was a good cook. Between bites of chicken and pickles, Lin Qing polished off three buns the size of her face, while Zhou Fusheng ate only one. Feeling a bit embarrassed—as she had a naturally large appetite and felt miserable if she wasn't full—she busied herself after the meal by cleaning the table, washing the dishes, and sweeping the courtyard. Seeing the water vat was empty, she carried several buckets of water from the well.

Zhou Fusheng tried to stop her, but in vain. "Stop, your wounds haven't healed yet," he said helplessly.

"I’m tough, it’s nothing," Lin Qing waved him off. Her main issue was internal; the wound on her shoulder was like a small nick on a finger, nothing serious. "You provide the food, the clothes, and the medicine. If I let you do all the chores, my spine would feel like it’s breaking."

Zhou Fusheng had no choice but to give up.

Just then, the main gate of the Zhou household was suddenly struck. Someone outside was pounding on the two wooden doors with great force, shouting, "Zhou Fusheng, get out here!"