Yan Shou frowned. “Enough!”
He turned to the abbot. “Will you talk?”
The abbot gave a cold, sneering laugh. “You lunatic beasts. Forget that I don’t know Shen Qiao; even if I did know him, I wouldn’t tell you! Not after you killed my disciple and did this to me! You think that you can do whatever you want just because you’re stronger… Pah! Kill me if you can! One day, you’ll get your retribu—”
Yan Shou slammed a palm down onto his head before he could finish the word.
The abbot’s skull split, and fresh blood poured down. It streamed past his glaring eyes, which were still fixed on Yan Shou, before finally dribbling into his collar.
Even in death, his eyes remained wide open.
Mere inches lay between the bodies of master and disciple, but they could never come any closer.
Yan Shou didn’t give the corpse a second glance. He turned to Bai Rong. “Did you really not find anything?”
Bai Rong was completely unaffected by his piercing gaze. “I really didn’t find anything!” she said, still smiling cheerfully. “If you don’t believe me, Elder Yan and Xiao-shixiong can take another look? Perhaps I missed something!”
Down in the cellar, Shen Qiao’s and Shiwu’s acupoints had come undone. Shiwu trembled all over, tears streaming down his face.
Shen Qiao kept his hand clamped tightly over the boy’s mouth, preventing him from making a single sound. Though he was in tears as well, he still dragged the boy backward with all his might.
Shiwu had struggled like mad at first. He’d fought and fought, right up until the abbot was killed. Then, like he’d lost the last of his strength, he stopped resisting and let Shen Qiao drag him away.
The two of them stumbled and tripped as they walked down the dark tunnel. Shen Qiao’s grave injuries hadn’t healed, and his meridians weren’t fully repaired. Shiwu was barely lighter than Shen Qiao—dragging him made every bone in Shen Qiao’s body burst into pain. It was like iron chains were tearing at his flesh. Every arduous step took everything he had.
He didn’t know how long they walked. Perhaps it wasn’t very long at all, but Shen Qiao felt like half his lifetime had passed.
He pushed open the sealed stone door with a trembling hand—who knew when this door had last been used. He pulled Shiwu out, then groped for a hidden latch in the grass. Following the abbot’s instructions, he closed the door from outside.
With this, even if Yan Shou and the rest found the secret passage and chased them all the way here, they still wouldn’t be able to open the stone door.
The secret passage connected to the other side of Bailong Mountain at its foot. This bought them enough time to find somewhere else to hide or to escape without too much hurry.
After securing the door, Shen Qiao let go of Shiwu. Then he leaned on a rock and burst into a coughing fit. His body felt like he’d gone through a torture chamber—he lacked even the strength to stand. It was only after he hacked up a couple mouthfuls of blood that the stuffiness in his chest eased up a little.
Meanwhile, Shiwu was still immersed deep inside his grief. He’d curled up, holding his knees against himself and burying his face in them, sobs shaking his entire body.
Shen Qiao sighed and stroked his head. “I’m sorry. If not for me, Zhu-xiong and Chuyi wouldn’t have met with such a terrible fate. Let’s get away from here first, though, all right? Even if it’s for their sake. Once we’re safe, I’ll let you hit me and kill me however you wish. Anything you want.”
Shiwu raised his face, still sobbing. “Shifu and Chuyi can never come back to life, right?”
Shen Qiao’s eyes brimmed with tears, but he clenched his teeth, refusing to let them fall. His mind trembled, and another surge of salty-sweet blood rose in his throat.
“Yes, they can never come back to life. But their greatest wish was that you go on living. If you let those people capture you, how can you do right by them?”
Shiwu didn’t make another sound but continued weeping silently. After a long while, he stood on shaky legs. “You’re right! I must live on—I can’t make Shifu worry… Where are we going?”
Shen Qiao drew a deep breath, then rasped, “To the east. To Bixia Sect. I’m taking you back to your sect and forefathers.”
He groped for the object the abbot had shoved at him earlier—a small wooden plaque. On one side was carved the words “Bixia Sect” and on the other was a single character, “Zhu.” It must have been the abbot’s proof of identity back at Bixia Sect.
After gently stroking the plaque for a while, he handed it to Shiwu. “This is something your shifu left to you. You must keep it safe.”
For a long time, Shiwu only looked at it with a cherishing gaze. Then he gave it a few more strokes and carefully slipped it into his lapel, as if afraid he’d lose it the moment he stopped paying attention.
Shen Qiao took the boy’s hand and led him away. The two of them waded through the brush, continuing onward.
Shiwu couldn’t help but glance back the way they’d come.
Behind them, the stone door lay tucked beneath layers and layers of dense vegetation. Hidden securely away, it was like it’d never existed.
Tears streamed down Shiwu’s cheeks once more.
Shen Qiao squeezed his hand tightly.