Chapter Sixty: Vengeance Amid the Snow

“Sir, let us return. Beware of the chill in the night air.” One of the county soldiers tightened his coat and spoke to Qi Jun.

“You go ahead, I’ll stay a little longer,” Qi Jun replied, standing with his hands behind his back and sighing softly. “Bring some wine and food later. I wish to offer a libation to the fallen brothers.”

The soldiers behind him, hearing this, felt their eyes sting and redden. They nodded silently and turned away.

Qi Jun did not look back; he didn’t want the soldiers to see the tears welling in his own eyes. In his previous life, he had endured battles far more brutal than this one, and he’d thought he’d lost the ability to weep for such things.

Yet when he thought of those county soldiers who fought and died without retreat, he could not help but want to shed tears for them.

After the battle, he’d overheard some soldiers talking about one named Ashi, who had charged into the bandits’ midst, forcing five or six enemies over the edge. Surrounded and with no hope of escape, Ashi had seized a terrified bandit in his arms and leapt into the abyss, leaving nothing behind.

“What a man he was,” Qi Jun murmured, closing his eyes as two streams of tears slid down his cheeks.

He knew that these soldiers were not, at heart, the ruffians who bullied the people for the sake of the bandits. With proper guidance, with their inner sense of justice awakened, each could perform deeds worthy of admiration.

In the ranks of the bandits, he had also seen many young boys, barely in their teens, whose faces, confronted with the soldiers’ crossbows, were drawn with fear and despair.

Whether they were the bullying soldiers or the youthful bandits, at their core they were all just common folk.

Qi Jun understood that it was this benighted age that left no path for honest, kindhearted people to survive, pushing and tempting them, out of desperation, down the wrong path.

Unbeknownst to him, someone in the darkness was watching Qi Jun intently. Seeing the soldiers leave, the watcher readied himself to strike.

Behind a large boulder jutting from the mountainside, a sly figure slowly emerged from the gloom.

He moved like a panther stalking prey in the night, creeping ever closer to his unsuspecting quarry. “Panther”—such was the name he’d earned in the underworld and among the bandits.

He was reputed to have strength enough to split mountains, and the ferocity and swiftness of a panther. He took great pride in such a title.

Qi Jun seemed unaware of the danger behind him. He quietly wiped away his tears and fumbled for something inside his robe.

Panther drew his dagger, confident that at this distance, he could kill his prey with a single blow.

“Die, boy!” he snarled, his eyes flashing with murderous intent. He sprang forward, driving his dagger straight ahead.

To his astonishment, just as he lunged, the scholar before him darted nimbly to the right, and the dagger struck only empty air.

“Not bad, kid—you’re quick!” Panther sneered as he steadied himself, failing at his ambush. Qi Jun still stood with his back to him, but in the mountain wind, there seemed to be a faint hissing, like something burning.

Before Panther could consider this, Qi Jun suddenly turned, now holding an iron rod. The pitch-black mouth of the rod pointed straight at him, and fear seized him at once—he felt certain he’d seen such a strange weapon somewhere before.

“Times have changed, friend,” Qi Jun said, his smile enigmatic, as his finger moved ever so slightly.

A violent crack split the air. Panther watched in shock as a plume of smoke burst from the iron rod. At the same time, it felt as if a massive force had slammed into his chest, sending him sprawling backward, completely out of control.

He landed flat on his back, a searing, unbearable pain in his chest reminding him that he was not yet dead. He tried to rise, but his limbs were limp, his strength gone, even breathing had become a struggle.

He fought to draw breath more quickly, but could not stop his consciousness from slipping away. He saw Qi Jun stand over him, picking up his familiar dagger.

“The blade is fine, but the man is less than human,” Qi Jun remarked, knowing the dying Panther had only minutes left.

“If you truly were a panther, I could skin you and sell your pelt for a few coins. Do you know what my parents were thinking before they died?” Qi Jun traced the blade lightly across Panther’s bloodless cheek. “They must have believed their son would avenge them!”

Panther’s eyes contracted sharply, as if recalling some vile deed from his past.

The world before him grew dim and indistinct; consciousness drained away. In that final moment, he seemed to see the scholar, waiting for him to bleed out, wearing the face of someone Panther himself had murdered.

He tried to speak, to say something, but only coughed up great gouts of blood.

Qi Jun watched his enemy’s trembling cease.

Before today, he had imagined countless times what vengeance might feel like. But now, seeing the man who had killed his parents meet his end in such a fashion, he felt only an endless emptiness inside.

For a moment he was at a loss—should he desecrate the body? Mutilate it? Or follow Sun Jiu’s example and hang Panther’s corpse as he had with the Red-Eyed Eagle? Qi Jun shook his head. Such acts would serve only to vent his anger, and nothing more.

In truth, the hatred was not his own, but the lingering obsession of this body’s original owner, compelling him to fulfill this task.

Since he’d been reborn in this body, at least he had granted the original soul’s wish and not wasted the gift of this life.

“Sir! I heard a strange sound just now—are you all right?” The county soldier, whom Qi Jun had sent to fetch offerings, rushed out from behind the gate, bow drawn and ready.

“I’m fine. The second-in-command of Panlong Ridge is here as well; now all three brothers are accounted for,” Qi Jun replied, dusting the earth from his clothes with a casual air.

“That’s Panther? So this is what he looks like,” one of the soldiers exclaimed, moving closer to examine the corpse.

“I’d heard he was swift, but he’s a short fellow. Hardly a towering figure,” another joked.

Qi Jun listened to their banter, and, at last, breathed a long sigh of relief. The stone that had weighed on his heart since Panther’s death was finally gone.

“Look out! Sir, over there!” A soldier, glancing down the mountain, suddenly blanched and called to Qi Jun in alarm.

Qi Jun followed his gaze, and his brows furrowed deeply.

In the darkness, a line of torches was making its way up the mountainside, and from their number, it was clear the group was large.

“More bandits coming to attack? Are these villains never satisfied?” another soldier muttered, gripping his crossbow tightly.

“Don’t panic yet. Friend or foe, we can’t be sure. Quickly, go alert the others and make ready. If bandits come again, we’ll fight them to the end!” Qi Jun said, clenching his fist as he watched the torch-lit procession. Having just survived a fierce battle, if these newcomers were indeed bandits, they would have to prepare for the worst.