The streets were busy, full of life and noise. People hustled about, going about their daily business. For Wan Qingping, the chaos was a mask. His mind, sharp and alert, was focused on the task at hand. Every step he took was calculated. Every glance at the people around him was a warning sign. If something went wrong, if anyone spotted him, he'd be out of there in a heartbeat.
"You're good, don't worry," Chen Kefà whispered beside him, sensing his tension. "The authorities don't have your faces. No portraits, no real leads. They only know about a tall guy and a medium-sized one. There are tons of people like that."
Wan Qingping gave a short nod, trying to hide the nerves churning inside. He appreciated the reassurance, but the risk was still there.
As they walked, he noticed a group of officers patrolling the street. A cold shiver ran through him. A thief meeting a soldier. The thought alone made his pulse race. But he didn't let it show. His face remained calm as the officers passed by without a second glance. Once they were out of sight, Wan Qingping exhaled, though his body was still coiled tight.
He couldn't let his guard down just yet.
Still, he had to admit, the risks seemed lower than before. The authorities were distracted by other matters—disaster recovery, floods, a thousand little things. It wasn't about him anymore. He was a small fish in a much bigger pond.
"Chen Dage," Wan Qingping spoke after a pause, his voice quieter, "Thanks for everything. I'm going to head out to check on my family outside the city. Could you keep an eye on Minghu for a few more days?"
Chen Kefà nodded. "Of course, brother. You want me to come with you? I can help."
Wan thought for a moment. It wasn't a bad idea. Chen knew the city well, and if something went wrong, he'd have a familiar face around. "Alright, you can come along. I'll grab some provisions for the road."
They bought food, including a few oil cakes for the journey, and headed toward the city gates.
Once outside the walls, the flood of memories hit Wan Qingping. The area outside the gates had once been filled with people, desperate and lost, all fleeing the disaster. Now, the place was nearly empty. It looked like the floodwaters had finally started to recede.
But just as Wan thought he could relax, a loud shout pierced the air. "Hey, girl, you're looking pretty cute. Come on over here, let me—"
His heart sank. He didn't even need to look to know what was happening. His younger brother and sister were on the ground, struggling. A thug was kicking his brother, and another man had his hands on his sister's sleeve, dragging her toward him.
Not today. Wan's blood boiled.
Without a second thought, he threw the food to the ground and dashed toward the scene. His mind was already racing, calculating how to make them pay. These men didn't know who they were messing with.
The first man didn't even see Wan coming. With a quick jump, Wan kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him flying. The second thug barely had time to react before Wan was upon him, drawing his knife and stabbing him in the leg.
The man screamed in agony, but Wan wasn't done. He grabbed the first thug by the hair and slammed his head into the dirt repeatedly. Each strike echoed like thunder. Blood started to seep from his skull, but Wan didn't stop until he heard the man begging for mercy.
"Please, please, I won't do it again!" the thug whimpered, his voice weak and panicked.
Wan Qingping was too far gone in his rage to care. It wasn't just about these men; it was about his family, the years of suffering, the constant danger they lived in. He was done with it. But just before he could do something worse, Chen Kefà stepped in, pulling him back.
"Brother, don't. We can't attract attention here."
Reluctantly, Wan stopped. But the anger still burned in his chest. He wasn't about to let these scum get away clean, though. He relieved them of whatever silver they had, then let them crawl away, broken and terrified.
"These bastards—" Wan muttered, seething. But then he took a breath, trying to calm himself. He knew why it had happened. His second mother was once his father's concubine, a woman with beauty that had drawn attention even in better times. Now, as a refugee, that same attention was unwanted and dangerous.
He needed to get his family settled. Somewhere safe. Somewhere no one would harass them.
"Chen Dage," he asked, his voice now steady, "Do you know where I can find a place to live in the city?"
Chen Kefà grinned. "You're too polite, brother. Actually, I've got just the place. A little run-down house I've been meaning to sell. It's not much, but it has two rooms and a storage shed. It'll do for now if you don't mind it."
Wan nodded, grateful. "Thanks. We'll take it."
Together, they gathered the rest of Wan's family—his second mother, his siblings, and Zhou Minghu's mother—and made their way back to the city. After a few more days of settling in, the group moved into the modest house. It was damp from the recent rains, but it was theirs. The family would finally have a roof over their heads.
Zhou Minghu's wounds healed over the next few days, and once he was strong enough, he joined them in the new house. And just like that, they began a new chapter, not in peace, but in survival.