Chapter 13: The Three Who Brought News of the Eldest Uncle to the Fu Family

“The enemy is divided within, their order in chaos. We must seize the opportunity…”
“If we desire to use the foolish and the compliant, we must understand—it is not we who seek out fools, but the fools who seek us…”
“There are many ways to lure the enemy, but the most subtle is not in ambiguity, but in resemblance, to deepen their confusion…”

By the riverside, as the stream flowed, a teacher and his disciple sat together—one speaking, the other listening.

“This is bait, capable of incitement; it is also an ambush, large or small, which can be set upon roads, battlefields, or even behind the enemy’s stronghold. At the crucial moment, a single move… secures the brilliance of victory!”

The shadows beneath the trees shifted from west to east, day yielding to night, and so it went, day after day. By the riverbank, Zihou, at first furrowing his brow in contemplation before his teacher, could, after a few days, offer a word or two, and later, occasionally reveal an excited smile.

With each passing day, Zihou grew quietly and steadily.

A month rushed by in a blink.

The Fù family, enduring anxious days at home, finally received word brought back by a trusted intermediary of the eldest uncle.

But when Zihou returned home at dusk, he was greeted by the sight of three unfamiliar men feasting and drinking in his house, and he could not help but frown.

“Zihou is back! Gentlemen, this is Erlang’s son, Zihou!”

His grandfather, seeing him return, introduced the three men with a forced, polite smile. His eyes lingered on the way they tore into their food, Adam’s apple twitching, heart aching at the sight.

“Zihou, come greet the gentlemen!”

Unconcerned by the three robust men’s indifference—who glanced only briefly at Zihou before returning to their meal—his grandfather urged him forward to pay his respects.

Upon hearing this, Zihou glanced at his father and Old Liu, seated nearby, and stepped forward, noticing that his cousin’s wife, serving bowls of rice, seemed somewhat frightened.

“Uncles, I greet you.”

Zihou raised his hand and offered a formal bow to the three men.

The leader, a burly man with a bushy beard, finally grunted indifferently in acknowledgment. The other two men paid him no mind, focused solely on eating and drinking.

This was not surprising. In these chaotic times, the way these three wolfed down their food made it clear they were not decent men. Having seen all sorts, why would they care about a young boy upon their first visit to this dilapidated house—especially when they were involved in dangerous affairs with the eldest uncle.

“Ha! Zihou has been sensible since childhood!”

Aunt Zhang, seeing that no one responded to Zihou, hurried to smooth things over with a laugh, glancing at Mrs. Tao. As her daughter-in-law Tai brought over a bowl of thin porridge, she quickly took it, exchanging a discreet look with her, then placed the porridge in front of the leading man with a broad smile.

Mrs. Tao knelt awkwardly on the floor, her expression tense and uncertain. Worried for her son in the presence of these intimidating guests, she turned her gaze to Zihou.

“Houer, since we have such distinguished guests tonight, go keep watch in the courtyard!”

Although her tone was even, her eyes held an unyielding command.

But before she finished, Tai’s shrill cry pierced the air.

Everyone turned to see Tai, panic-stricken, rushing behind Zhì, her husband, trembling as she pointed at the lead man, whispering that he had just touched her.

“What nonsense is this! You must have been careless—clumsy as always. Go away!”

Aunt Zhang rose and rebuked Tai sternly, then turned to the three men with a broad smile, explaining that her daughter-in-law was spoiled and clumsy. If the gentlemen needed anything, she herself would serve them.

The bearded leader, pleased with Zhang’s tact, nodded in satisfaction, his gaze lingering meaningfully and with some wariness on Tai, who hid behind Zhì.

The other two men, unfazed by the scene, swept their eyes over the room. Only the old man across from them might pose a threat. The middle-aged man by his side was clearly not a fighter, and as for the son of Fuhong, his vacant, docile look marked him a harmless fool.

Moreover, Fuhong was preparing to rebel—a capital crime. If this family did not treat them well, a single word from the three and the entire household would be executed. Compared to that, what was a little taking advantage?

Tonight, by coercion or force, they intended to enjoy Zhì’s wife. Even Zhang and Tao, though weathered by age and hardship, were still of sturdy stock—if they could serve, so much the better. They were only here for a night; compared to the family’s lives, this was a trifle, especially as they were Fuhong’s own men, sent to deliver a message.

“Mother, wasn’t it cousin’s turn to keep watch tonight? You can ask Old Liu! I’m hungry too!”

Zihou’s protest, spurred by Zhang’s intervention, eased the tension in the room. He seemed reluctant to leave.

“Your cousin…”

Mrs. Tao, already anxious for her son, was about to scold him when she stopped, puzzled, and looked at Old Liu.

Not only her—even Old Liu was confused. What did Zihou mean, he “knew too”?

Something was not right. Zihou and Zhì only ever kept watch at night, never at dusk. Mrs. Tao was sending Zihou out of concern for him, but why did Zihou insist that his cousin go instead? Was he worried his cousin would feel shame seeing his wife harassed, or was there another reason…

With these doubts, Old Liu met Zihou’s gaze and suddenly understood. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

In that instant, Old Liu felt a surge of pride. At last, someone in the family was taking charge.

“Yes, Mistress! The young master is right!”

Old Liu addressed Mrs. Tao.

At his words, not only Tao, but Zhang, the grandfather, Rui, Zhì, and Tai were all taken aback.

A silence fell over them as they sensed something amiss, but before they could dwell on it, Zihou had already approached Zhì.

“Cousin, it’s your turn to keep watch tonight. Go outside and close the door behind you. I’ll go out after I finish eating.”

Zhì’s mind was a swirl of confusion—his wife harassed, the guests obviously ill-intentioned, his head buzzing, his face tingling as if struck. Yet, looking at his cousin and recalling their years together, a sudden trust welled up within him, and he nodded instinctively.

Inside, Zihou, his back to the three men, met his cousin’s anxious gaze, then his cousin’s wife’s worried eyes, and offered a reassuring smile.

“Daughter-in-law, why are you just standing there? Can’t you see this gentleman’s finished his meal? Go serve more! Really, so thoughtless—these gentlemen have traveled far to deliver a message, weary as they are, and you don’t even offer them more food!”

Aunt Zhang’s words showed she understood Zihou’s plan. As his cousin left and the door closed, Zihou’s nerves tingled with anticipation of what he was about to do.

He recalled the pain of being an orphan, the rare gift of family now his to cherish. Long ago, he had sworn to himself: anyone who dared harm his family, he would fight to the death, biting back even in death if he must.

“Houer, it’s cold. Go fetch three coats for the gentlemen from your mother’s room!”

Aunt Zhang’s instructions made Zihou’s heart leap to his throat, but he swiftly steadied himself. Compared to the terror of the unknown, the agony of losing family was a far greater fear—a pain he would never allow himself to suffer again.

“I’ll go at once!”

Without hesitation, Zihou strode to the room, his mind buzzing, heart in his throat, hands trembling. He took up the sword resting by the wall, wrapped it in cloth as Old Liu had taught him, and, gripping the hilt, slowly drew the blade.

As cold steel slid free, Zihou’s thoughts stopped; only one resolve remained. He turned and strode quickly from the room.

Inside, the grandfather, Rui, Old Liu, and Tao still knelt, while Zhang and Tai sat with forced smiles beside the three men. As they watched, Zihou reentered—face ashen, but his movements decisive.

To the shock of all, Zihou, gripping his sword with both hands, brought it down with all his strength on the back of the lead man.

In an instant—

Blood spattered across Zhang’s face. Though she started in terror, she instantly lunged to cover her daughter-in-law’s mouth before she could scream.

The other two men, still eating, never imagined the family would dare to kill them. As the bearded man collapsed, twitching and bleeding, the two were struck with terror. Before one could beg for mercy, Zihou, trained in swordplay, moved with the speed of instinct, slashing one man’s arm as he reached for a weapon, then diving forward to drive his sword into the man’s chest, pinning him to the ground.

The last man, pale with fear, tried to draw his sword, but the old man was quicker, seizing the weapon at his waist. In a flash of silver, the man fell dead before he could cry out.

The whole family froze.

Zhang, face smeared with blood, still covering her daughter-in-law’s mouth; Tao, eyes wide in horror; the grandfather and Rui, faces pale with fright—all stared at Zihou, who knelt silently, gripping his sword, pinning the corpse beneath him.

A heavy silence hung over the room.

Old Liu approached Zihou, gently placing his callused hands over the boy’s trembling ones, seeing his bloodless, expressionless face.

“It’s all right, young master. He’s dead.”

Old Liu spoke softly, knowing this was Zihou’s first killing—and not just one, but two men. It was no wonder he was shaken. Old Liu remembered his own first time—much older than Zihou, and far less composed.

Zihou had done remarkably well.

Just look at the family, who had suffered in silence until now—Zihou’s decisive act was extraordinary.

“He’s dead…”

Feeling Old Liu’s rough hands over his, and an arm around his shoulders, Zihou finally came back to himself. All strength gone, he collapsed to the floor.

Staring at the bodies, at the sword still buried in one, Zihou’s eyes widened in disbelief.

He had killed someone.

Slowly, with reddened eyes, he turned to look at his mother, frightened by what she might think of a son who could kill.

But all he saw was her, overcome with worry, scrambling to his side, shielding him desperately, clutching him tightly in her arms.

The grandfather, Rui, and Tai—only just released by Zhang—looked on in shock.

At this moment, the door creaked open.

Zhì stepped inside, and saw the three men who had just harassed his wife now lying motionless in pools of blood. He looked at his family, then at his cousin Zihou, wrapped tightly in Tao’s embrace.