Later that night, the silence of the village was broken only by the occasional howl of wind slipping through the trees.
Fu Fong staggered forward as he was dragged out of the old courtyard house, his arms still aching from being restrained and his clothes torn in several places as though he had been pulled through more than just one struggle.
The guards behind him said nothing.
They did not answer his curses.
They did not react to his anger.
They simply moved with the same cold efficiency as before, guiding him forward through the dimly lit path that led away from Han Fuji's hidden residence.
Fu Fong's breathing was uneven, his steps unsteady, but even in that state, hatred burned clearly in his eyes.
He turned his head sharply, trying to look back at the house that had held him.
And then he spat the words through gritted teeth.
"Han Fuji… I'll make you pay."
