Shen Qiao couldn’t take it anymore—he went up and seized the boy. Seeing that their meal had been stolen, the couple immediately stopped scuffling with each other and lunged at Shen Qiao.
They hadn’t eaten for many days. A moderately strong woman could have knocked them down easily, let alone Shen Qiao. But even after Shen Qiao brought the boy back with him, the child’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. Forget gratitude, he didn’t even show the slightest joy at escaping with his life.
“What’s your name?” asked Shen Qiao. “Would you like something to eat first?” Shen Qiao reached out to pull him closer.
But before he could touch him, the boy simply tipped forward and fell to the ground, motionless.
Shen Qiao was alarmed. He went up for a closer look and realized that the boy had been gravely ill for some time—the disease had long spread to his organs. He’d already been at death’s door when the couple had been dragging him along. Even the gods couldn’t have saved him. And at that moment, unable to hold out any longer, his heart finally gave out.
Whether Shen Qiao tried to save him or not made no difference to him at all.
His eyes still remained half-open, as if within him lingered a final trace of reluctance and a denouncement of the world.
Judging from the scars on his body and the ribs straining beneath his skin, this boy had probably never lived a single good day in his life. He probably never understood why he had to be born and suffer through such misery.
Shen Qiao was still for a long time, watching him without blinking. Suddenly, he reached out and passed his hand over the boy’s face, closing those half-open eyes.
And yet another hand came and covered Shen Qiao’s eyes, gently swabbing the wet tracks from their corners.
“You didn’t even cry when Yu Ai betrayed you, but now you’re crying over someone you didn’t even know?”
“Everything I encountered before, whether they were setbacks or hardships, were things I could endure. But this little boy…he probably never hurt anyone. Heaven ordained his birth, and it shouldn’t have been to suffer. Everyone has the right to live. No matter how difficult his life was, it should have at least shown him some hope of a way out.”
Yan Wushi would have thought such words hypocritical from anyone else’s mouth. Even now, he could never do the things Shen Qiao did. But somehow, unconsciously and naturally, the disdain that had welled up inside him in the beginning had changed—now, when Shen Qiao did these things, he was no longer surprised, nor did he find it strange.
“You’re too naive,” he said. “Who’s responsible for giving him that kind of hope? Other people also need to live, and they also need to worry about themselves—why should they be kind to him?”
Shen Qiao stood up. “I was willing to be kind to him, but I was a moment too late.”
“You can only save one or two people by yourself at most,” Yan Wushi said indifferently. “So many people in the world are in the same state as him, yet you’re indifferent to them. Isn’t that hypocritical?”
“If, one day, when the turmoil ends and the land is unified, and this kind of thing still happens, then at least it will happen far less. And then more than just one or two will be saved—it will be thousands and thousands. Isn’t that right?”
Yan Wushi didn’t care enough to reply but instead walked to the side of the road. Using his palm as a blade, he used his internal energy to slice open a deep ditch beneath a tree. It was a perfect rectangle and of uniform depth.
Seeing what he’d done, Shen Qiao understood the meaning and smiled despite himself. “Many thanks.”
He placed the little boy’s corpse into the ditch, laying him flat. Then he swept dirt inside, filling it until it was level and smooth.
In these troubled times, it was fortunate if a corpse wasn’t left exposed in the wilderness. If he erected a tomb marker, people might think there were funerary objects buried beneath it, and it would draw the attention of robbers.
With everything settled, Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi entered the city.
Inside the city and outside were practically two different worlds.
It was said that when Gao Wei, the Emperor of Qi, heard about the years of famine and the widespread refugees, he didn’t order his subordinates to provide disaster relief. Instead, he built a “Pauper’s Village” at Hualin Garden inside the capital. There, he dressed up as a beggar and told the eunuchs and maidservants to play traveling merchants and passersby so that he could experience the fun of begging for himself. Hence, when people in Yecheng talked about Hualin Garden, their faces showed no admiration for the royal garden but rather a subtle, tacit mockery.
However, even as danger loomed from the Northern Zhou army pressing ever closer to their border, the city still looked like its peaceful, carefree self—not much different from the last few times Shen Qiao had visited.
It was still the same luxurious, perfumed carriages; the same extravagant atmosphere; the long and fluttering sleeves, the brocade sashes and silk skirts. The jade hairpins and magnificent robes, the subtle fragrances as they wafted. It was an explosion of splendor as far as the eye could see—this was the face of Yecheng, the capital of Qi, a world full of glory and wealth.
At first glance, newly arrived travelers wouldn’t find a single poor person. They might even grow ashamed at their own lack of wealth, thinking themselves too shabby in comparison. However, if one took a quick glance into the many alleys and nooks, they could sometimes spot a few plainly dressed, ordinary civilians, starkly incongruent with the flood of luxury surrounding them.
Finding a couple of people in such a large city was not something that could be accomplished in one or two days. Yu Ai and his group might have taken up lodgings at a Daoist monastery, or perhaps they’d changed into ordinary robes to hide their identities. If the latter were true, it’d be like hunting for a needle at the bottom of the sea, compounding the difficulty.
The two of them parted just after entering the city. Yan Wushi didn’t say where he was going, and Shen Qiao didn’t ask. He only said, “Take care, Sect Leader Yan. I hope everything goes well.”
“Looking for an inn to stay at?” asked Yan Wushi.
Shen Qiao thought for a moment. “I’ll try searching the Daoist monasteries first. If I still can’t find them, I’ll just stay in one of the monasteries.”
Yan Wushi nodded. “This venerable one still has business to attend to.”