Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Jade Ring

Little Ding could only curse his luck in silence. Every troublesome matter seemed to find its way to him.

Coming to Luoxia Mountain in search of someone, risking life and death, was already vexing enough. Now, he had two more burdens to bear.

If they were just village children or kids from an ordinary family, he wouldn't have minded taking them in—more mouths to feed, but it was manageable. But here, in the treacherous wilds of Luoxia Mountain, he couldn't even guarantee his own safety, and now there were two children in tow. Worse still, one of them had enemies; who knew what further trouble might come their way...

Frowning deeply, Little Ding lowered his head in contemplation. He recalled the eager look in Old Master Ou’s eyes a moment ago, which, receiving no response, had already begun to fade into disappointment.

Beside him, Ou Muyun clung to Ou Shanfeng’s hand, sobbing softly, muttering, “Uncle Fu, please don’t leave us behind…”

Little Ding sighed and said to Old Master Ou, “Don’t worry, sir. I promise I’ll take them in. But I know nothing of martial arts, nor do I wish to meddle in the affairs of the jianghu. I can raise them, but as for vengeance…”

Upon hearing Little Ding agree to care for the two children, Old Master Ou’s sorrow instantly turned to joy. He hurriedly said, “Thank you, sir! Thank you! Just having you agree to take them in, I am already deeply grateful—how could I dare ask for vengeance as well? If they have the ability one day, let them avenge themselves. If not, as long as they live peaceful lives, that will be enough to preserve the Ou family’s bloodline…”

Of the three greatest unfilial acts, leaving no descendants was the gravest. In this era, people placed great importance on carrying on the family line. Little Ding glanced at Ou Muyun, who was still weeping, and couldn’t help but grumble inwardly.

Children of fifteen or sixteen in these times had often already married and started families of their own. Especially among the poor, youths at that age were expected to shoulder responsibilities and fend for themselves. Take Zhao Laixi, for example; he was no older than Ou Muyun when he married Xiaoya three years ago. Though Zhao Laixi looked thin and frail, he was more than capable of supporting a household and living independently.

But Ou Muyun, before him now, still clung to adults like a small child, even less mature than Xiaofu. Clearly, he had been pampered by his parents from a young age, raised in a sheltered environment, having faced no real hardships—old enough in years, but not yet in mind.

At this moment, Ou Mulin, who had been lying nearby, woke up. Her complexion, once tinged with blue and purple, had faded to a ghastly white—a result of her blood loss.

She felt utterly weak, her lower legs numb and aching.

“Brother, where are we? Am I not dead?” Ou Mulin asked feebly, spotting Ou Muyun crouched beside her.

“You’re awake, sister?” Ou Muyun rushed to her side. “This big brother saved you. He gave you an antidote and drew the poison from your blood…”

“Ah… Thank you, big brother…” Ou Mulin turned her head to look at Little Ding. Suddenly her eyes fell on Ou Shanfeng, lying before him. “Is that Uncle Fu? What’s happened to him?”

As she spoke, Ou Mulin struggled to sit up and crawled toward Ou Shanfeng.

Ou Muyun helped his sister over. Ou Shanfeng, having recounted the events earlier, had spent his last strength and, though no longer coughing, was now breathing faintly and shallowly. When he saw Ou Mulin’s little face, a smile appeared on his lips.

“From now on—you two—you siblings—must stay with—with—Brother Tian here. You must always listen—listen—to Brother Tian. He’s already—already agreed—to take you in… Uncle—Uncle Fu can’t—can’t—look after—you anymore…”

“Uncle Fu…” The two children burst into tears.

“Oh yes, your father—your father—before he died—asked me to give you this.” With trembling hands, Ou Shanfeng took a jade ring from his breast and handed it to Ou Muyun. He continued in a faltering voice, “Your father said—said—this is—a family heirloom of the Ou family. It holds—all the secrets—of the Ou clan. Guard it well—never let—it fall into—the hands—of the wicked…”

“Uncle Fu, please don’t leave us…” The children wailed.

“That’s enough—children—don’t cry—remember—always—listen to Brother Tian… Uncle Fu…” The words trailed off. Ou Shanfeng breathed no more.

The children were consumed by grief.

Little Ding frowned, thinking to himself: with the stench of blood so heavy here, it wouldn’t be long before wild beasts were drawn to the spot. They had to leave, and soon.

He stood up and checked over the dozen or so corpses nearby. Most of them belonged to Jin Baiwan’s band of wandering fighters, but two were dressed differently, clearly not of the same ilk.

All valuables and money had already been stripped from the bodies, leaving only worthless odds and ends scattered about.

Among the dead, Little Ding found Jin Baiwan’s corpse; he had been dead some time. The two steel pellets he had once held were nowhere to be found. His pack had been torn open, but inside, Little Ding found several water skins and a good supply of dried rations—far more valuable to him now than any jewels or silver.

Little Ding ate some of the dried food and drank deeply, inwardly marveling: Jin Baiwan truly lived up to his reputation as a wealthy man of Yongzhou! He had four water skins with him, and had packed a huge bundle of flatbread and buns.

Once he was fed and rested, Little Ding poured the water from the smaller skins into the largest, bundled up the food, and packed it all together.

Then he picked up a chipped, battered blade from the ground, dug a shallow grave beneath a tree, and buried Ou Shanfeng, raising a small mound of earth over him. After a moment’s thought, he carved several large characters into the tree: “Tomb of Ou Shanfeng of Youzhou.”

He made no mention of the Sword Manor, fearing that enemies might trace the grave and, in turn, find him.

The children’s eyes were red from crying.

Little Ding made them eat to regain their strength, then handed the bundle of water and rations to Ou Muyun to carry, while he himself hoisted Ou Mulin onto his back, took up the battered blade, and pressed on.

Ahead, there were no more markers.

Jin Baiwan’s group had made it only this far before being annihilated, so Little Ding began leaving his own signs along the way. At least, if they followed these marks back, they would be able to return to the foot of Luoxia Mountain.

With the two children in tow, they trudged onward for most of the afternoon. As the sun was setting, they arrived before a small cliff.

Little Ding looked at Ou Muyun, sweating and exhausted, and thought, This boy has probably never endured such hardship in his life! Had his family not suffered misfortune, he’d likely still be living as the carefree young master of the Sword Manor.

Still, during the journey, Little Ding had chatted with the boy off and on, discovering that, though his character was mild and unworldly, he was at least decent and well-mannered. If he could be tempered by hardship, taught a bit more about the ways of the world, and learn some practical skills, he might yet become a capable man.

Ou Mulin, on his back, had at some point drifted back to sleep. At the base of the cliff, Little Ding found a patch of level ground and set her down gently.

He straightened, surveying the cliff, and was surprised to see numerous caves dotting its face. For travelers in the wild, such a place would be an excellent refuge.

He picked a cave with a small entrance, checked it over, and found it dry inside. Though the floor was uneven, it could easily hold himself and the two children.

With his battered blade, he cut some dry grass for bedding, then carried the sleeping Ou Mulin inside and laid her down. After he and Ou Muyun had their fill of food and drink, they too crawled into the cave, blocking the entrance with the large stone he had prepared earlier.

Though the sky was not yet fully dark, exhaustion weighed heavily on Little Ding. He had barely slept for two nights and days.

Around midnight, he was suddenly awakened by a noise.

What now?