Chapter 43: Silencing the Witness

Liu Er shuddered violently, desperately shoving the Fang family’s old servant aside before turning and collapsing to the ground in tears.

“Grandpa, spare me! Grandpa, others might not know how formidable you are, but I, Liu Er, know all too well! The times you strode through the streets with a knife—I’ve not forgotten. Who in our town doesn’t know that, if you must offend someone, you’d rather offend Grandpa than the young master, isn’t that so?

“I was just being greedy, never thought he’d actually be able to bring out so much silver. I really only wanted to scare him a little, never truly dared to lay a hand on him. Grandpa…

“I have nothing, I’m just a ruffian struggling to make a living, with people under me to feed, always hoping for a better future. Not long ago, I was lucky enough to befriend two big brothers—right here, before the Bodhisattva, we swore brotherhood. I only took half the money, planning to use the other half as travel funds to join those two brothers.

“Grandpa, spare me, I know I was wrong. Ill-gotten gains are not to be touched. I’ll hand over all the silver now—it’s right here, beneath the Buddha statue.”

As Liu Er pleaded, he kowtowed over and over, soon opening a gash on his forehead from the force.

Following Liu Er’s words, Lu Dashan moved the Buddha statue and found a bag of silver in the corner—exactly twenty taels.

The Fang family’s old servant started, recalling how he’d been dragged here for no reason, and fell beside Liu Er, weeping bitterly.

“Grandpa, spare me! Since the young master returned home, he’s been cursing endlessly. Just yesterday, he ordered me to find someone to teach your young master a lesson. I tried to dissuade him, but he wouldn’t listen—he even beat me and called me useless. My whole family relies on the Fang household for survival; what choice did I have but to obey?

“Even so, I warned him that twenty taels wouldn’t be enough for anything serious, hoping to make him give up. Who would’ve thought he’d give me sixty taels? I kept twenty for myself and hired Liu Er, telling him only to give a scare—who would dare risk a murder case while away from home? Please, Grandpa, have mercy!”

He too kowtowed fiercely, each thud louder than Liu Er’s.

Lu Dashan watched the two men quickly bloody their foreheads and turned to look behind him.

Bathed in the faint, cold moonlight, the youth hidden in the shadows revealed himself once more.

“Young master, young master, I was wrong!” Liu Er suddenly crawled forward on his knees, startling Lu Dashan, who almost kicked him in reflex.

“From now on, my life belongs to you, young master. Whatever you command, I’ll scale mountains of blades or plunge into seas of fire without hesitation.” Liu Er kowtowed repeatedly to Jingyuan.

The Fang family’s old servant also recognized the young master. He’d seen him during the day—back then, the boy had seemed clear and cheerful, but now he was colder than the moonlight itself.

Choking back tears, the old servant begged, “My young master is stubborn, narrow-minded, unable to distinguish right from wrong. As his lackey, I know my sins are grave. But please, out of compassion for my old age and my children at home who depend on me, forgive me, young master. Forgive me!”

Jingyuan’s lips curled into a faint smile, his soft laughter echoing through the dilapidated temple, making the moonlight seem even chillier.

“You—petty thief, despised by all, sycophant. In twenty years, you’ve done few good deeds, but committed no great evils either.”

“Yes, yes, young master flatters me,” Liu Er replied hastily.

“And you—do you admit to what Liu Er just said?” Jingyuan gazed coolly at the old servant kneeling before him.

“I do, I do,” the old servant answered at once.

Jingyuan nodded slowly, then clapped his hands.

A crisp sound rang out, and suddenly, the ruined temple, lit only by moonlight, was flooded with brightness.

A masked man appeared from some unseen corner, holding a lantern in one hand and two sheets of paper in the other.

The pages were covered in black ink.

The old servant’s pupils shrank sharply.

Liu Er shivered as well.

When did this happen…?

The masked man placed the papers before them and tossed down a brush.

Liu Er was illiterate, but he recognized the scene. He bit his thumb and pressed a bloody fingerprint onto the paper.

By the light of the lantern, the Fang family’s old servant read the words—it was exactly as Liu Er had confessed, not a word missing. Seeing no alternative, he picked up the brush and signed his name with a bitter face.

The masked man let out a derisive snort.

Lu Dashan rolled his shoulders, his large fan-like hands rubbing together regretfully.

The old servant wrote faster.

Once both signatures were down, the masked man collected the papers. Lu Dashan’s deep voice boomed, “Go on, then.”

The old servant and Liu Er felt as if granted amnesty.

“Thank you, thank you!”

“Thank you, Grandpa, thank you, young master!”

Both men struggled to their feet, the old servant swaying from the blows he’d received. As he staggered upright, Jingyuan’s cool voice sounded: “Liu Er, see him out.”

“At once, young master, at once!”

With his head still bleeding, Liu Er hurried to support the old servant. The old man flinched, his lips trembling, but could only muster a shaky word of thanks.

The two of them, limping, made their way out of the ruined temple—not daring to walk too fast or too slow.

Only when they reached the doorway and breathed the clear, cold air beneath the moon—feeling as though they’d escaped death—did their hearts begin to settle. But before they could linger, the young master’s voice rang out from within.

“Liu Er, don’t ever let me see you again.”

“Yes, yes, I understand, I do!” Liu Er replied quickly, supporting the old servant and picking up his pace. The old servant nearly stumbled, but Liu Er caught him, and together they hurried forward, terrified of any further sound from behind.

After dozens of paces—perhaps more, until the silence was absolute and only their uneven footsteps echoed—Liu Er finally dared to sneak a glance back.

No one followed. The street lay empty under the moonlight, just himself and the old servant.

At last, Liu Er let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t even think about killing me,” the old servant said, his voice trembling.

Liu Er, his intentions laid bare, grumbled under his breath, “When did I ever want to kill you?”

“I don’t care,” the old man replied, wincing at Liu Er’s grip, “The young master now has my confession. Even if he needs me, if you dare lay a hand on me, he won’t forgive you.”

His voice quavered, as if clinging to life.

Liu Er believed him.

“Then what did he mean by never wanting to see me again?” Liu Er asked.

Feeling Liu Er’s grip ease, the old servant exhaled quietly.

When he didn’t reply, Liu Er tightened his hold again. The old servant hurried to explain, “He just wants you to leave—go far away from here.”

“Nothing else?” Liu Er pressed, then, realizing he’d raised his voice, quickly hushed, “He really doesn’t mean to silence us?”

“If he wanted us dead, would he have let us go?” the old servant reasoned patiently.

“Oh, good, that’s good…”

The two of them hobbled onward. Not far behind, a shadowy figure suddenly emerged from the darkness.