novelSusiti Chapter 579 Fengling Ferry
Chapter 579 Fengling Ferry
The three women suddenly raised their heads.
The firelight shone on their faces, making the dried bloodstains and bruises exceptionally clear.
Their eyes were wide open, as if they hadn't quite believed the weight of those words yet.
The slightly older woman in the middle spoke first, her voice hoarse and filled with a cautiousness as if she dared not breathe deeply: "I...can we go back now?"
Qin Mu nodded: "Go south along the road at the village entrance, and you'll reach the next town before dark."
The woman's eyes instantly reddened.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but the words were blocked by more emotions. Only tears silently welled up in her eyes and streamed down her mud-covered cheeks.
The woman next to her also cried. They didn't wail loudly, but their shoulders trembled violently, as if something that had been suppressed in their chests for too long had finally found an outlet.
The youngest woman suddenly knelt down, her knees striking the gravel and ashes with a dull thud.
She lowered her head, her voice choked with a sob that had been suppressed for too long: "Thank you so much, benefactor... thank you so much for saving my life... we have no way to repay you... in the next life..."
She couldn't continue speaking; she just knelt there, her shoulders shaking violently.
Qin Mu didn't interrupt her. He simply stood in front of her, waiting for her to calm down before speaking. When he finally did, his voice remained casual: "There's no need for the next life. The present is enough. Go back and live well; that's more important than anything else."
He didn't reach out to help her, but his words acted like a gentle pull, slowly calming the woman's shoulders and stopping them from trembling.
Yunluan stepped forward and placed a water bag filled with dry rations and a money pouch in front of her, her voice cold: "Take these with you on the road."
The woman raised her head, looking at Yunluan with tearful eyes, her lips trembling slightly. Then she kowtowed forcefully, her forehead touching the ashes on the ground, leaving a small mark.
She stood up and hugged the water pouch tightly to her chest, as if she were holding a lost treasure that had been found again.
The other two women also knelt down, kowtowed, and accepted the dry rations and water pouches.
They did not look back.
The three of them supported each other, walking south step by step under the moonlight, following the path they had come from.
Their shadows were stretched long by the moonlight, moving slowly across the gray-white wilderness, like three water plants being carried away by the wind into the distance.
Soon the three figures were swallowed up by the night and could no longer be seen.
Zhao Alan remained seated on the carriage shaft, watching the three figures disappear into the night.
Only when she could no longer see them did she slowly withdraw her gaze and look down at her hands, which were still covered in mud.
She thought of her village, her home that no longer existed, and the old locust tree that had been burned in half.
She has no home anymore.
Those people can go back, but she has nowhere to go back to.
She raised her head, her gaze piercing through the night and landing on Qin Mu's back.
The figure stood by the embers of the campfire, casually poking at the dying embers.
She suddenly realized that this road she could never return to might not be so terrible after all; at least the people she met were worth continuing down this path.
Qin Mu and his men spent several more days traveling westward along the border and found several strongholds occupied by scattered Northern Barbarian soldiers.
Those outposts, like the first military camp, were abandoned outposts.
Wherever he went, Qin Mu used the same method: he led Yun Luan through the door, stood between the firelight and the night, and drew the attention of those who were drinking and laughing to them.
Each time, someone tried to stop them.
Each time, those people fell into ashes and dust.
Some of the imprisoned border residents were tied to wooden stakes, some were locked in cellars, and some huddled in corners.
Qin Mu would untie their ropes each time and let them go home.
Zhao Alan always followed beside the carriage, watching the people who were rescued and their staggering figures heading south in the night.
An unprecedented emotion welled up in her heart: not relief, but shock.
I was struck by how smoothly and naturally the gray-clad man moved from pushing open the door to leaving, without any unnecessary movements, probing, or hesitation.
On the evening of the fifth day, when they emerged from their last stronghold, dusk had already blanketed half the sky.
Zhao Alan sat on a rock beside the carriage, unconsciously twirling a withered blade of grass between her fingers.
She exhaled softly, and the breath turned into a cloud of white mist in the cool air before quickly dissipating.
She had nowhere else to go, so she had no choice but to follow them.
She watched the figure walking toward the carriage, his pace unhurried, as if he were strolling in his own courtyard.
She suddenly had a thought—the person who was willing to let her follow him was someone for whom she was willing to go even further.
When the carriage started moving again, the atmosphere inside was somewhat different from the previous days.
Jiang Zhaoyue folded up the map, her gaze falling on the twilight outside the car window, and said softly, "The Northern Barbarians are getting closer."
Yun Suxin spoke up: "The Northern Mang Royal Court certainly won't let us wander around like this. The wind direction at the border changed just now, as if someone is mobilizing troops over there."
After she said that, the carriage was quiet for a moment.
Xu Fenghua held a cup of warm tea in her hands. She looked up at Qin Mu and asked, "Young Master, once we arrive in Northern Mang, are we really going to enter the city as a merchant caravan?"
Qin Mu leaned against the carriage wall: "Let's see how things go."
Jiang Zhaoyue's voice came from the side, more steady than before: "If you encounter danger, I can also help."
Chen Wanqing's voice rang out, carrying a serious tone of preparedness: "Young master, although I am not skilled in martial arts, I can handle matters such as disguising myself and delivering messages."
Han Xin'er's voice came from the corner, carrying a rare firmness: "I can help too."
Lin Xiaolu also raised her head, her fingers already resting on the hilt of the short knife at her waist, her voice carrying a certainty that she herself had only just realized she possessed: "Brother Zhao, I can fight too."
Zhao Alan, who was sitting by the car door, suddenly spoke up at that moment: "I can help too."
Her voice was a bit steadyer than before. "I know the roads along the Northern Mang border. I know where to hide and where to go around. I also know the routes those people usually take. If you follow me, at least you won't get lost."
Qin Mu glanced at her, as if noticing for the first time that she had her own use, and then nodded slightly: "Okay."
The sky in the Northern Wilderness was lower than that in the Northern Border, as if it had been pressed down by a palm. The gray clouds hung low, as if they might collapse at any moment.
The wind was no longer the dry coolness of the North, but carried a bone-chilling cold, as if it were seeping from the depths of the earth, clinging to the skin and seeping into the bones.
The further you go, the less vegetation there is along the roadside.
First, the sparse shrubs completely disappeared, replaced by large areas of bare brown earth, etched with fine lines by the wind, like an old cowhide that had been repeatedly crumpled.
Occasionally, one can see one or two withered poplars, their branches twisted and reaching towards the sky, like withered hands pleading for something, but there is nothing in the sky.
Qin Mu lowered the carriage curtain, rolled up the map again, placed it on his lap, and looked at the figure opposite him: "Elder Yin, the territory of Northern Mang should be ahead."
Yin Sutang sat by the window, her head slightly turned, her gaze falling through the gap in the carriage curtain onto the increasingly desolate scenery outside.
She was silent for a moment, as if trying to identify something, then she spoke: "Soon. After another half hour's walk, we'll see the first city on the border of Northern Mang, called 'Fenglingdu'. That's the closest city in Northern Mang to Great Qin."
She paused for a moment: "It's called a city, but it's more like a market. Merchants from the border regions of Northern Mang and the Northern Territory often meet there, so it's a mixed bag of people. News travels incredibly fast; any little thing that happens can spread throughout the entire city by the next day."
Qin Mu's lips curved slightly: "Then that's a good place for us to stay."
Yin Sutang glanced at him, then hesitated, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.
After a moment, she spoke up: "Young Master, there is a stronghold of the Xuan Yin Sect at Fengling Ferry. It is nominally a cloth shop, but in reality, it is an intelligence station of the Xuan Yin Sect on the border of Northern Mang. Sect Master Su Youlan sends people there to collect information once a month. If I appear there as an elder of the Xuan Yin Sect, they should not suspect anything. I can go in first to scout out what's going on with the Northern Mang Royal Court recently."
Qin Mu leaned against the carriage wall, tapping his fingers lightly on his knee twice: "That's perfect. We'll enter the city as a merchant caravan, and you'll go to the cloth shop as an elder of the Xuan Yin Sect. On the surface, we'll be following you, but in reality, you'll be scouting ahead for us."
Yin Sutang's eyes flickered: "Young Master, aren't you afraid I'll go back on my word? After all, that's the sect I've been in for many years."
Qin Mu looked at her, his smile deepening: "You won't."
His tone was calm, as if he were stating a fact that had been confirmed many times before.
Yin Sutang remained silent for a moment, then lowered her eyes and did not ask any more questions.
She knew she really couldn't.
From the moment she handed him that letter, she knew she could never go back.
She didn't want to go back either; the waters there were too deep.
Qin Mu did not press further, but leaned against the car wall, his gaze fixed on the slowly advancing gray-brown plain outside the window, as if waiting for a moment he had long known would come.
After walking for about half an hour, a blurry outline finally appeared on the distant horizon.
It was a low wall, made of grayish-yellow mud bricks, about two people high, with several faded flags stuck on top, fluttering in the north wind.
Below the city wall was an open archway, with several soldiers in old leather armor standing on either side of the archway, lazily leaning against the wall and sunbathing.
Above the archway are two somewhat blurred characters: "Fengling".
Yin Sutang looked at the city gate and lowered her voice: "We've arrived."
The carriage stopped briefly at the city gate.
The guards merely glanced at the carriage, then at Yunluan sitting on the carriage shaft, before waving their hands away, skipping the questioning altogether.
The carriage passed through the archway and entered Fenglingdu.
The scene inside the city was completely different from that outside. The streets were not wide, and the houses on both sides were low and densely packed. The adobe walls were eroded by the wind with grooves of varying depths, like old scars cut by the years.
There weren't many people on the street, but they were all different, each speaking a different accent, like several different rivers blown by the wind into the same pool, briefly converging before continuing on their way.
There were local people from Northern Mang wearing fur coats and curved knives hanging at their waists, as well as merchants from the Northern Border wearing old cotton robes and looking wary, and several people from the Western Regions wearing headscarves.
The air was filled with the smells of hay, dust, and biscuits, which were scattered and then gathered again by the wind, like a thin, dusty veil.
The carriage stopped in front of an inn with faded banners hanging in the air.
The banner read "Peaceful Inn," the characters of which were blurred by the wind and sand, but were still legible.
Yin Sutang got out of the car, glanced around, then turned to her and said in a low voice, "That cloth shop is the third shop on the corner, the one with the blue cloth curtain hanging on the door. I'll go check it out first."
After she finished speaking, she turned and walked towards the street corner without waiting for Qin Mu's reply.
Her pace was neither fast nor slow, like a local who had just returned from out of town, checking whether the layout of the streets and alleys was still the same as she remembered.
Qin Mu stood at the entrance of the inn, watching her back as she walked across the dusty street and stopped in front of the third shop.
She raised her hand and lifted the blue cloth curtain, then stepped inside. The curtain fell behind her, obscuring the view inside.
Jiang Zhaoyue stood beside Qin Mu, her gaze also fixed on the curtain, and lowered her voice, "Young Master, should we send someone to follow them?"
Qin Mu withdrew his gaze: "No need. She can handle it."
He turned around and walked into the inn.
The inn's lobby was small and dimly lit, with only a few oil lamps on the rough wooden tables illuminating the room.
Behind the counter sat an elderly man with gray hair, wiping a rough porcelain bowl with an old cloth.
Qin Mu walked to the counter and casually placed a small piece of silver on it: "How many rooms?"
The old man looked up at him, then at the people behind him, and without asking any questions, simply took a few keys from the wall and placed them on the counter: "Upstairs on the right, choose one yourself."
Qin Mu picked up the key, turned around, and walked towards the stairs.
Jiang Zhaoyue followed behind him, and Han Xiner, Lin Xiaolu, Chen Wanqing, Su Wan and others followed in single file.
Zhao Alan hesitated for a moment, then followed.
From the moment she decided to follow Qin Mu, she included herself in this group.
The rooms on the second floor of the inn were small, but fairly clean.
The window paper was newly replaced, letting in the grayish-white sunlight from outside.
In the corner was a narrow bed and an old wooden box, and on the table were a rough pottery teapot and two upside-down teacups.
Qin Mu sat down at the table, poured himself a cup of tea. The tea was already cold, but he didn't care. He took a sip, then put it down, his gaze falling on the gray street outside the window.
He was waiting for Yin Sutang to return.
About an hour later, footsteps came from downstairs at the inn. They were very light, but very steady.
The sound approached step by step on the stairs, stopping at the door, which was then pushed open from the outside.