Chapter 15: Blood Letters on the Wind

After finishing the fried chicken, Song Xian used the residual heat on the stove to roast two handfuls of wheat and brewed some barley tea for everyone to drink.

The freshly roasted wheat had a strong aroma, and when boiled, the tea had a clean and pleasant fragrance that perfectly cut through the greasiness from eating too much fried chicken.

After the meal, Song Hancheng took Song Jimin to the Hot Spring to wash up.

Song Luyuan was still fascinated by his Hellvine Greatsword, happily practicing with it on the hillside.

Song Xian called Song Luyuan over and sat with him on the grassy slope.

“Dad, what’s up?”

“You said the day before yesterday that you wanted to work as a porter at the wharf. Did that work out?”

Song Luyuan scratched his head, finally remembering that it was a lie he casually told in front of Song Xian when rushing off to a duel arranged by martial artists.

“Ah, yeah, it worked, it worked.”

“Then tell me about the wharf. Are there reeds by the river? Are there many fish in the water? When is it busiest during the day, and when are the most people around?”

Song Luyuan breathed a sigh of relief—luckily, he had been to the wharf before and knew the basics.

He honestly relayed all the information to Song Xian.

Song Xian nodded and asked,

“Are you going again tomorrow morning?”

Song Luyuan remembered he had a duel with Sun Yuan the next day, which would be a good chance to try out his Hellvine Greatsword.

He immediately told Song Xian,

“Yes, I’m going. We agreed that I’d work hard to earn money and help Dad buy a little donkey.”

Song Xian smiled warmly and patted Song Luyuan on the shoulder.

“Good boy, you’re really sensible. Then I’ll go with you tomorrow!”

Song Luyuan’s mouth twitched—he regretted speaking too quickly just now.

What was he going to do now?

“No, I’ll go to the morning market first. After I finish at the market, I’ll come find you at the wharf,”

Song Xian corrected himself.

“Ah, alright, then I’ll wait for you, Dad.”

Song Luyuan began calculating the time in his head.

Sun Yuan was in Changshui County, far from the wharf, and even riding the fastest horse would take nearly two hours.

He was the famed Number One Mad Sword of the Jianghu.

If he missed the duel after agreeing, people would mock him as a coward.

But a gentleman must keep his word, so he had to keep the promise he made to his father.

Song Luyuan pressed Song Xian on approximately when he would arrive at the wharf.

Song Xian thought for a moment.

“Hmm, I should be done by the morning, definitely before noon to find you.”

Song Luyuan immediately got up, ready to wash up and sleep.

Song Xian looked puzzled.

“Not going to play anymore? Your eldest brother just invited you to the Hot Spring, and you said it’s still early and don’t want to sleep so soon?”

Song Luyuan yawned.

“Suddenly got sleepy.”

He washed up in a hurry and fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow, so fast it was astonishing.

Song Xian envied his sleeping quality immensely.

Before going to bed, Song Xian combed Song Jimin’s hair and chatted with him about the plan to go to the morning market the next day.

Once Song Jimin’s hair was completely dry, the father and son turned off the lights and went to sleep.

The next day, as the eastern sky just began to glow red, and the land was still in semi-darkness, the market at the junction of Eight Village was already starting to fill with people.

Vendors hurriedly secured good spots to sell more of their goods.

The area to the east of the market, where young children were sold, gradually began to see people arrive as well.

The weather was good today—cloudy and windy, cool but not sunny.

More families came to sell children than usual.

Glancing around, there were about thirty to forty young children waiting to be sold.

Usually, noble families weren’t used to getting up early, especially those who spent a lot of money on children, mostly coming back when the sun was high.

But there were exceptions—some picky buyers came early, looking for children with paler, plumper skin, or simply more beautiful faces.

Ugh.

Seeing this scene and hearing the situation explained, Song Xian felt waves of nausea rising uncontrollably.

Song Jimin tiptoed up and tried to put a sour plum into Song Xian’s mouth, but couldn’t reach.

Song Xian smiled, crouched down, bit the plum, and gently thanked Jimin while rubbing his head.

“Oh, this child is beautiful. For sale? How much?”

Guo Xun couldn’t take his eyes off Song Jimin and approached Song Xian and his son to ask.

The more he looked, the more satisfied he was.

Truly beautiful, eyes sparkling, skin white and tender like the children in New Year paintings.

His size was big enough—his old father could feast on him for several meals.

“Not for sale.”

Song Xian’s face darkened as he shielded Song Jimin behind him.

Hearing that someone wanted to buy him, Jimin curled the corners of his mouth and tilted his head, carefully scrutinizing the middle-aged man’s appearance, storing the impression in his mind.

“Oh, he smiles even better. How about 100,000 wen?”

“100,000 wen! Oh my, that’s such a high price—it could buy a whole horse!”

Some townsfolk nearby exclaimed in surprise.

Song Xian suppressed his nausea and glared at the speaker, who was one of the very vendors selling children.

He should have been a victim of exploitation but had become a mental slave of the exploiters—numbly selling his own flesh and blood like goods and even thinking it was a great honor that a child’s life was worth as much as a horse.

Foolish, hateful, and detestable!

Song Xian’s voice grew colder, sharp and aggressive:

“Not for sale! My son is already eight years old.”

“Eight years? Should’ve said so earlier!”

The middle-aged man grumbled in dissatisfaction but still glanced at Song Jimin somewhat regretfully.

Such a beautiful child—what a shame.

“Come buy from my family, only 50,000 wen. No, 30,000 wen will do!”

The father of a child who just spoke slinked out with a fawning smile to try to lure the middle-aged man to see his child for sale.

“Tsk tsk, too skinny, too dark, too ugly. Don’t even mention 30,000 wen, I wouldn’t pay 5,000.”

Song Xian scooped up Song Jimin and headed east toward higher ground.

“Good luck today—the east wind is blowing strong.”

“Mm.”

Song Jimin raised the paper bundle in his arms.

“Heaven bless, may all evil habits be blown away with the wind!”

Changshui County town.

Sun Yuan, carrying a large broadsword, limped back from outside the town, supported by a small servant.

Sun Yuan’s face twisted in anger as he kept cursing,

“Damn Number One Mad Sword, he’s seriously crazy! I mean the duel today, but he couldn’t have woken me up in the dead of night to fight! Finished before dawn! Madman! Pure madman!”

After cursing, Sun Yuan noticed groups of townsfolk gathering on the street, discussing the strange events that had happened at the Eight Village Market that morning.

His curiosity was piqued, so he perked up and edged closer to listen.

“So scary! I was there, hundreds of people, all stunned speechless, sweating cold!”

Sun Yuan urged,

“What happened? Tell me in detail!”

“This morning, just as the market started to gather people, everyone suddenly fainted. When we woke up, guess what? Right in the middle of the road appeared nine bright red characters: ‘Divine Sanction: Child Eater’s Doom’!”

“Really?”

Another townsman quickly said,

“Of course it’s true! I was there too. So many people at the market, all went blank in an instant, couldn’t remember anything, then almost all woke up at the same time. Isn’t that weird?”

“If everyone fainted, how did the blood characters appear? Could it really be Divine Sanction?”

“Who would dare buy or sell children in the market today?”

“Who dares? Forget child trade, even those selling regular goods were superstitious and everyone left.”

Sun Yuan sighed,

“That is strange and interesting. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the market too!”

At the same time, at Ping’an Wharf, an even stranger event was about to unfold.

Every day at noon, the wharf was the busiest, with cargo boats gathering and passenger ships docking.

Hundreds of porters sweated profusely, carrying large loads back and forth, unloading cargo.

Suddenly, someone shouted,

“Look at the water!”

Everyone stopped and looked.

Many wooden planks were floating downstream from upstream.

On each plank were glaring red words:

“Divine Sanction: Child Eater’s Doom.”

“Who’s putting on a show? Stop scaring people!”

someone shouted.

No sooner had they spoken than all the fish in the water floated to the surface, belly up.

Countless dead fish—thousands—died instantly, drifting like duckweed on the water.

The man who shouted froze in fear, trembling so badly he wet his pants.

Others were stunned speechless by the terrifying sight.

Some turned pale and fled immediately, followed by the rest once they processed what had happened.

In an instant, the once bustling wharf of a thousand people was deserted, left only with abandoned cargo.

“Success!”

Song Xian, hidden in the reeds, happily high-fived Song Jimin and Song Luyuan.

The strange divine sanction incidents at the market and the wharf today would soon spread throughout Yongzhou Prefecture.

This move might not completely stop the custom of eating children, but it would definitely serve as a strong deterrent, making people wary and unwilling to try.

Song Xian said,

“This move is called the Divine Mandate Intervention Technique—‘using their own way against them.’”

Song Jimin gave a thumbs up:

“Dad, you’re the hero of my heart!”

From this event, Song Xian deeply grasped the power of “divine decrees” to deceive the foolish masses. This trick would have great future use in business.

Song Luyuan was full of questions:

“I guessed how the market people were knocked out—white bark tree pollen. But what about the fish? How did they all die so suddenly?”

“Used Hellvine,”

Song Xian explained.

“Branches in their peak season, boiled into water, kill all pests—including fish. We hid plenty of Hellvine powder in the seams of those wooden planks, sealed with clay. It dissolves on contact with water.”

“Such a clever method!”

Song Luyuan admired deeply.

He was glad he arrived at the wharf in time to help move the planks and assist in perfectly executing this meaningful plan.

“Dad, since this went so smoothly, shouldn’t we celebrate?”

Song Luyuan’s favorite word was “celebrate,” because it always meant delicious food was coming.

“Not over yet. Bad habits don’t end so easily. After a few days when people forget, it’ll flare up again. So, we have to strike while the iron’s hot, and stage a few more ‘Child Eaters Suffer Divine Sanction’ shows.”

Song Jimin’s eyes lit up enthusiastically:

“I’m small and unnoticeable, I can be in charge of gathering information and making a list of child eaters.”

“Then have Second Brother kill all those bastards!”

Song Luyuan thought the same, his eyes filled with excitement at rooting out evil! Thank heavens, his Greatsword would finally taste blood!

Song Xian still didn’t realize his sons were thinking too far ahead.

After receiving the custom saw from the blacksmith, Song Xian went to the ancient forest to find the sacred tree said to have lightning-attracting properties.

“Song Xian! Song Xian!”

He was wandering around the forest, saw the saw in hand, slightly dazed, when suddenly he heard someone call his name but saw no one around.

Fang Dashan appeared slowly from behind an ancient tree, clutching his injured arm.

“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

Fang Dashan’s face was swollen and red, with bluish bruises and covered in dust, looking thoroughly miserable.

“You looking for me?”

Song Xian cautiously stepped back two paces, worried Fang Dashan had come to seek revenge for the time he exposed him at the City God Temple.

“I won’t hurt you, you’re worrying too much.”

Fang Dashan coughed weakly twice and slumped by the tree.

“I came to tell you, you’ve been deceived. You’re not…”