Chapter Six: Haunting Shadows

Where was that crying coming from?

Zhao Hengyi, ever on guard, was instantly alert. As he sat up from the wooden door he’d been using as a bed, his hand closed at once around his crossbow and the hatchet.

He listened carefully, then let out a long breath of relief—it was only Xiaoyu.

“Why are you crying? Are you homesick?”

Moonlight spilled through the lattice window, painting Miao Xiaoyu’s delicate, tear-stained face with silver, like a little kitten.

“No, ever since Father and Mother died, wherever my sisters are—that is my home.”

She sniffed softly, as if making a point, her expression still sulky toward Zhao Hengyi.

He smiled silently. This girl was being willful.

“Then why aren’t you asleep? Why cry alone in the dark?”

“We’re married, yet you sleep apart from me… I know you mind the rumors, that I bring misfortune, that I’m a jinx. It hurts, you know.”

Zhao Hengyi almost laughed; he’d never expected Xiaoyu to be hurt over such a thing, or to pout with him for the first time.

“Xiaoyu, listen to me. Our home has only this one thatched hut and a single bed, and your sisters are still young… Once I’ve earned some money, we’ll build a big house. Life will get better, I promise.”

Even he didn’t quite believe his own words, but somehow they soothed Xiaoyu. Her little face flushed pink with embarrassment.

“I don’t believe in misfortune or ill omens. My Xiaoyu brings luck, not disaster. Otherwise, how could I have hunted so much my first time in the mountains?”

In truth, as a modern man, Zhao Hengyi found this arranged marriage hard to accept. To him, two people forced together without affection could hardly be called husband and wife.

He’d agreed to marry Xiaoyu only to help this strong girl escape the tragic fate awaiting her.

Of course, he could never tell Xiaoyu his real reasons. The girl was sensitive now; if she was to find her strength again, she needed to truly believe she was not cursed.

Xiaoyu, whose heart had been knotted with unease, leaned her head against Zhao Hengyi’s shoulder. Just that small gesture seemed to exhaust her.

But Zhao Hengyi’s face grew grave. He raised a finger to his lips for silence, then turned his ear toward the window, alert.

Someone was outside the thatched hut!

Because the six little sisters were sleeping soundly, and both Xiaoyu’s quiet weeping and their whispered conversation had been kept low, any sound outside was unusually distinct in the quiet night.

Zhao Hengyi told Xiaoyu to stay with the girls, then crept toward the door, crossbow and hatchet at the ready.

His successful hunt had become the village talk by evening. Times were hard and food was scarce; though Elm Bay’s folk were mostly honest, temptation could still breed trouble.

He slipped outside. By the pale moonlight, he saw a dark figure crouched behind the hut, fiddling with something.

A pungent smell of lamp oil drifted on the breeze, and Zhao Hengyi’s face turned grim.

The intruder wasn’t here to steal. He meant to set the house ablaze—with the whole family inside.

In two strides, Zhao Hengyi was on him. He lashed out with a kick, sending the shadowy figure sprawling.

A cry of pain tore through the night—it was Liu Shuang, that scoundrel!

Exposed, Liu Shuang scrambled to his feet and fled, cursing loudly as he vanished into the darkness.

Zhao Hengyi didn’t give chase. Instead, he checked where Liu Shuang had been. Sure enough, lamp oil was already splashed over the thatch, and a fire striker lay dropped on the ground.

He remembered Liu Shuang’s earlier threat to burn his house, and now everything was clear.

Liu Shuang, humiliated after Zhao Hengyi beat him at the village entrance, had come for revenge under cover of night.

Zhao Hengyi’s eyes became icy. For petty quarrels, he might have turned a blind eye, but Liu Shuang’s arson meant death for his family—there was no mercy in that.

If not for Xiaoyu’s midnight tears, and his own vigilance, the dry thatch would have become their funeral pyre.

Cries rose from inside—the six little girls, startled awake by Liu Shuang’s screams and curses. Having just begun to taste peace, they were frightened out of their wits.

“Husband, did you drive the thief away?”

Slender and frail Xiaoyu, clutching a heavy wooden club, rushed out as well. In the moonlight, her trembling figure betrayed her fear, yet still she stood bravely by him, determined to protect their fragile peace.

“It’s over. Let’s talk inside,” Zhao Hengyi said softly, his gaze gentle as he looked at her.

Their home was set apart from the rest, even in Elm Bay, a little isolated—almost as if Zhao Hengyi’s so-called father had been hiding something when he built it.

Perhaps that’s why Liu Shuang dared to attempt arson; if their hut were in the village’s heart, he might not have had the nerve.

Xiaoyu soothed her sisters with quiet, tearful whispers. Zhao Hengyi sat cross-legged on the doorboard, his face dark as storm clouds.

His previous thoughts had been too naive. Prosperity alone, using his modern knowledge and skill, would not be enough in the Yan Kingdom.

As the saying goes, a hero needs comrades; a fence needs posts. Alone, even with wealth, he’d be seen as easy prey.

The night’s events were a warning: fighting alone would not do.

If only he had a few burly brothers… Even if he were a fool, ruffians like Liu Shuang wouldn’t dare bully him, let alone burn his house.

So Zhao Hengyi sat quietly on the doorboard, guarding his meager home, thoughts churning, until the first rays of dawn crept through the doorway and touched him.

“After last night, Liu Shuang won’t dare return. You stay with your sisters—I’ll go to the county to sell the game and bring back some grain.”

After his failed arson, Liu Shuang must have skipped town, so Zhao Hengyi felt safe leaving Xiaoyu and the girls.

Xiaoyu seemed stronger after the ordeal, urging him to go, only reminding her husband to buy some spinning supplies.

The mountain roads were rough. Zhao Hengyi didn’t return until afternoon, his back laden with grain and goods. There, waiting on the stone by his door, sat Old Wu, the village’s only hunter.

Zhao Hengyi’s heart skipped—a rival, and Xiaoyu with her sisters at home—could there be trouble?