Chapter Twenty-Nine The Silver Is Gone

After more than three hours, Little Ding finally used his spiritual power to restore all the shattered bones in Tang Yunzhi’s lower leg to their proper place. The rest would depend on careful nurturing and slow recovery. Little Ding took the wooden splints and ropes he had prepared in advance and fixed Tang Yunzhi’s injured leg in place. Then, he gently carried her back to the donkey cart and laid her down. He picked up the quilt she had used by the campfire, shook off the dust, and softly covered her with it as she lay in the cart.

By now, it was already well past midnight; in another couple of hours, dawn would break.

Little Ding hurried back to the shed with Erniu to catch up on some sleep.

Inside the shed, a straw mat had already been spread with a quilt. Originally, Little Ding had bought a set of bedding for each of them, but tonight they had given one set to Tang Yunzhi. That meant Little Ding and Erniu would have to share a quilt.

Little Ding took off his outer clothes and crawled into the bedding first, only to be surprised to find most of his wounds had healed; the minor cuts were nearly closed, and even the deepest gash on his back had scabbed over. He realized this was due to the circulation of his energy techniques throughout the night; while treating Tang Yunzhi, his own injuries had been unknowingly healed as well.

At this moment, Erniu also turned away and slipped off her outer dress. Wearing only the fresh underclothes she had changed into after her bath, she crawled under the covers, her cheeks flushed with shyness.

Little Ding thought to himself, “Why would a little kid like you be shy?” In his mind, he never regarded her as an adult at all.

But Erniu thought differently. Once under the covers, she climbed onto Little Ding’s chest. Her secret wish was to consummate their marriage soon and bear him children. But seeing how exhausted Little Ding looked, she knew in her heart that this fool wouldn’t fulfill her wish tonight. So she asked, “Husband, will Miss Tang’s leg get better?”

“As long as it’s not disturbed, a few months of rest and it’ll be fine,” Little Ding replied.

“Husband, why did Miss Tang call you a scoundrel?” Erniu asked curiously.

“Well… Oh, she misunderstood me a bit…” Little Ding stammered.

“A misunderstanding? Because you touched her leg?” Erniu stared at him with wide eyes.

“Yes. Oh, no…” Little Ding looked embarrassed, wondering why Erniu was bringing this up.

“So, was it or wasn’t it?” Erniu pressed.

“Of course not,” Little Ding denied at once. “I was just checking her injury…”

“Oh, I see…” Erniu murmured. Then she added quietly, “Actually, husband, if you want to touch someone’s leg, you can touch mine…”

Little Ding was left speechless, a line of exasperation crossing his face.

“Go to sleep!” Little Ding growled softly, closing his eyes and pretending to rest, ignoring her.

Seeing Little Ding rebuffed, Erniu secretly smiled to herself. But after tossing and turning half the night, she was already tired and soon fell asleep on Little Ding’s chest.

The next morning, Little Ding woke early and gently moved the sleeping Erniu off his body. He sat cross-legged and meditated. After a few cycles, he felt refreshed and completely recovered.

By then, the Tian family in the thatched cottage was awake and washing up as well.

Little Ding went to the donkey cart and saw Tang Yunzhi still sleeping deeply, so he didn’t disturb her.

Heading to the backyard, he found Zhao Laixi and Xiaofu washing up. He said, “Brother-in-law, after breakfast, take the old clothes and kitchen knives we took from the bandits yesterday to Village Chief He’s house and have him distribute them to villagers in need.”

There were many poor families in the village; even tattered things would be treasured.

“Alright, big brother,” Zhao Laixi replied, wiping his face.

“As for the iron bar and those two sabers and axes, we’ll keep those for ourselves. And you should pick one or two good kitchen and cleavers for our own use as well.”

“Okay,” Zhao Laixi said.

“By the way, are you and Xiaoya heading back to Luoyun Village today?” Little Ding asked, drawing a basin of water to wash his face.

“Yes. There’s nothing else to do for now, so the two of us will go back. I haven’t helped out at Second Uncle’s for two or three days,” Zhao Laixi replied.

“Alright. When you leave, take some rice and flour with you, and cut off a piece of meat to bring home. I bought plenty of pots, bowls and utensils yesterday—take what you need.”

“There’s no need…” Zhao Laixi hesitated, feeling embarrassed to accept, though his family truly lacked these things.

“Just take them. They’re not valuable,” Little Ding insisted.

Zhao Laixi thought, “This fool! How could these things not be valuable? He spent dozens of taels of silver on them!”

“Oh, right. Brother-in-law, when you go to town today, could you buy some yellow wine for me? I need it to make a medicinal compress for Miss Tang,” Little Ding added suddenly.

“Sure, but… Big brother, I…” Zhao Laixi stammered.

“What is it?” Little Ding asked.

“I don’t have any money on me…” Zhao Laixi admitted awkwardly.

“Oh.” Little Ding understood; he himself had no money either—the silver had all been handed to Tian Dabao last night.

Thinking for a moment, Little Ding said, “How about this: those kitchen knives and cleavers are worth something. Instead of giving them away, take them to town and sell them. Whatever you get is yours. Just bring me back some yellow wine.”

“Alright, I’ll do that, big brother.” Zhao Laixi felt a secret delight, recalling the loot from the bandits, as if he’d been the one who had brought them down.

Having washed up, Little Ding picked up two axes taken from the bandits and headed to the woods west of the village to cut trees. He planned to build a grass hut in the yard for Tang Yunzhi; he couldn’t let her sleep out in the open on the donkey cart forever.

To the north of the western road lay a tract of wasteland, about twenty or thirty acres. Scattered with small trees and bushes, and covered in wild grass and stones, this was the empty plot Little Ding had spoken of buying last night at dinner.

Beyond the wasteland to the west stretched dense forest, all the way to the main peak of Luoxia Mountain. North of the wasteland stood a solitary hill, perhaps a few dozen acres in size. Separated from the main ridge behind the village, it resembled a rebellious child running off to play alone.

South of the western road was another expanse of wasteland, but due to its many rocks and sparse trees, no one wanted to cultivate it. This land ran south to the foot of the mountain and west into ever-thickening woods, reaching all the way to the foot of Luoxia Peak.

Luoxia Village was nestled in a small valley between two mountain ridges. The southern ridge was low, with few woods and much wild grass, its slopes gentle. Over the mountain lay Luoyan Village. The northern ridge was tall and steep, its slopes lined with sheer rock walls—no one from Luoxia had ever climbed it.

In the northern woods west of the village road, Little Ding cut more than ten saplings as thick as a teacup, trimmed off the branches, and fashioned them into poles about ten feet long. Such slender trees were hard to find, as most of the forest had matured and some trunks were so thick an adult could not encircle them.

Returning to the village with his load of poles, he had just entered the yard when Tian Xiaofu came running, shouting, “Brother, brother, something’s wrong! Our silver is gone…”

“What happened? Slow down and tell me,” Little Ding said, startled, as he set down the poles.