Chapter 31: A Visit

“Ah! Help! Don’t… don’t touch me! Please, no!” This voice was different from the coquettish tones before; now it was laced with seductive allure, a hint of resistance tinged with invitation.

“Damn it!” The bearded leader could no longer restrain himself. Gripping his broadsword, he strode quickly toward the thicket ahead.

“Wait, boss!” The tall bald man behind him hurried to keep up. “Boss, don’t get angry. That monkey just doesn’t know any better. Don’t stoop to his level.” He cursed the monkey under his breath—the monkey was his distant cousin, and they usually looked out for each other.

The two men closed in on the thicket. The sultry gasps and pleas for mercy made their breaths quicken and faces flush with excitement.

Without further thought, they leapt into the bushes one after the other—only to find a scene quite different from what they had imagined.

In an instant, a sharp pain pierced their foreheads, as if something had burrowed straight into their brains. Their vision went black; consciousness fled.

The pocket-sized crossbow proved shockingly lethal. Just two shots—no need for close combat. The two men fell where they stood, dying instantly, each with a bloody hole the size of a finger in their brow, blood bubbling thickly, then a pale mass oozing out after.

Not far behind, the group of refugees began to stir uneasily. The five remaining bandits struggled to keep order among them.

“Don’t move! Stay where you are! If you so much as try anything, we’ll kill these children!” One of the bandits, blind in one eye, had already sensed something was wrong with their leader and dared not send anyone else to investigate.

Quick-witted, he immediately signaled his comrades to seize several of the refugee children. The would-be rebels among the refugees now dared not act rashly.

“If any of you move, I’ll kill one!” The one-eyed bandit grabbed a five-year-old and pressed a sickle against the child’s soft cheek. The little one, terrified and in pain, burst into wails.

The bandit believed he’d found the refugees’ weakness and could control them. What he forgot was that there are always traitors in the world—men as ungrateful and ruthless as himself.

“Run! Run now!” Someone shouted from the back of the refugee crowd, and suddenly everyone at the rear scattered in all directions.

“Bastards!” The one-eyed bandit’s authority vanished in an instant. Furious, he swung his sickle down at the child in his grip.

A sharp crack, and he stared in disbelief—an arrow, the length of a hand, pierced straight through his temple. The force of the blow made his one good eye bulge grotesquely. He swayed, then collapsed with a thud.

Seeing the tide had turned, the other bandits dropped the children and fled for their lives.

At that moment, the thirty or so remaining refugees surged forward as one. Summoning every ounce of strength, they caught up to the fleeing bandits and, with fists and feet, vented all their fury. Shouts and curses mingled with screams.

Wang Keyue nudged the corpse of the one-eyed bandit with her foot and quietly collected the pale mass.

She hadn’t expected these bandits to provide her with two random rewards. It made her think, perhaps good deeds really are rewarded!

“Red One, gather everyone. We’re heading back to camp,” Wang Keyue ordered.

This mission had been far simpler than expected. The Red Unit members she had stationed in ambush had not even needed to act; the remaining bandits were all beaten to death by the furious refugees.

With a few people in tow, Wang Keyue returned, a long tail of refugees following behind.

“Master, those refugees are coming after us,” Red One approached quietly to report.

“Let them be for now,” Wang Keyue replied.

Back at camp, the ten women had already built a fire, over which a pot of water was boiling.

The Red Unit members remained on guard, weapons in hand, their vigilance undimmed.

The refugees stopped several meters from the camp. From among them, an elderly man in a long robe, supported by a girl of eleven or twelve, stepped forward, trembling.

“What do you want? Move along! Don’t disturb our young master!” Red One warned, raising his long knife.

“Please, young sir, don’t be angry. We are villagers from Zhoujia Village, Beiping County. I am the village head of the Li family village, Zhou Deren. Might I trouble you to inform your master that we wish to express our gratitude for saving our lives?” The old man bowed deeply, hands clasped.

“Wait here,” Red One replied before turning back to the camp.

Inside, only a simple tent stood by the fire, where Wang Keyue sat cross-legged. She sipped hot soup and nibbled coarse grain cake. Hearing Red One’s report, a smile played at her lips.

“Let the village head in. And have the women cook more porridge,” Wang Keyue instructed.

Soon, Red One led the old man before her.

The aroma of food wafted through the air, making Zhou the village head and the girl’s stomachs rumble uncontrollably.

Seeing each person with a thick cake in hand, Zhou felt their timing could not have been worse.

“I… I’ve come at a bad moment. Perhaps I should wait outside until your young master has finished eating. It’s not right to intrude at mealtime, especially in a famine year when food is so precious,” the old man said, halting respectfully.