"It's okay. That also means you've learned what was taught properly. By the way, what exactly were you taught during your internship at the Spirit Hall?" Arthur asked curiously, brushing aside a low-hanging branch as they continued their journey up the mountain. The evening air was cool and carried the faint, sweet scent of wildflowers blooming along the rocky path.
Quite a lot. Things like memorizing safe routes to the villages around the Spirit Hall branch I was assigned to, how to write and calculate to make recommendation letters, survival skills, and much more. All of it was preparation for joining and working at the Spirit Hall branch after the internship," Su Yuntao answered, walking beside Arthur. His eyes constantly scanned the surroundings the rustling bushes, the shadows lengthening between the ancient pines, and the last rays of sunlight filtering through the canopy.
While the two ascended toward the peak, down in the village, Jing Liu and Uncle Jack had managed to gather the young people and the able-bodied elders at the village hall the same place where martial spirits (wuhun) were awakened every year. The hall was lit by flickering oil lamps, and through its open windows came the gentle whisper of spring breeze carrying the fragrance of new leaves. They had gathered to discuss building a wooden wall around their village. After hearing about the attack on Anxi Village, the murmur of the crowd soon turned into unanimous agreement to start construction the next morning.
Even so, there was some blunt opposition. A gust of wind rattled the wooden shutters as Shi Chen, a seasoned carpenter, stood up. "So if the wall does get built, what's the point? At best, it'll only last a short while before being breached from the outside," he said, his rough hands gesturing toward the darkening forest beyond the village fence.
In response, Uncle Asis replied with calm conviction, "That's true. But at least we won't look like an easy target. That alone might deter outsiders from attacking us." He held Shi Chen's gaze as the evening cicadas began their soft chorus.
"Uncle Asis is right. At least we won't be seen as an easy village to raid. And who knows traveling merchants might see us as a safe place to do business. Besides, construction can't move forward without a skilled carpenter like you," Uncle Boris said, putting an arm around both men. The warmth of his gesture seemed to melt the last resistance.
Hearing that everyone had agreed, Jing Liu and Uncle Jack felt relieved and decided to head home. But as the first stars appeared over the treetops, Jing Liu turned toward the mountain path. "Uncle, I want to see what Arthur is doing on the mountain peak near the village. You can go home first," she asked, her eyes reflecting the silver moonlight just beginning to spill over the ridge.
"Alright, but be careful. It's already evening. And tell Arthur not to train too long he has to leave for Nuoding City tomorrow with Su Yuntao. Besides, it's not really a mountain, it's a flower hill. Didn't Grandpa tell you the myth about the seven mountains around the village?" Uncle Jack replied, watching as Jing Liu ran off the moment permission was granted. Her figure soon disappeared into the swaying grasses, and he could only shake his head slightly with a smile, accompanied by the distant call of a nightbird.
But beneath the warmth of spring, something else was falling far from Crimson Leaf Village. There, the wind did not carry the scent of blossoms but the metallic smell of blood. Crimson leaves covered not only the ground but also the broken bodies of the villagers of Anxi the very place Su Jin and the combined forces of the Spirit Hall branch and the Heaven Dou Empire troops were heading to. Though they were the front line, only thirty soldiers had been deployed, while the Spirit Hall branch had sent nearly fifty, led by Ma Xiunuo, who had just been appointed a Spirit Hall Deacon. The spring moon above Anxi shone coldly on the ruins, indifferent to the tragedy below.
TO BE CONTINUED...