Chapter Sixty-Two: Destroying the Body and Erasing All Traces

When Old Man Tong, Uncle Yang, and Yang Zaixing drew near, they immediately spotted Yuwen Chengdu among the group. Searching further, they also found Yang Hu and Zhang Xuan, and saw Zhao Yun engaged in conversation with a stranger; there was no sign of hostility between them, which finally allowed them to breathe a true sigh of relief—especially Yang Zaixing, whose taut nerves at last relaxed. Yet curiosity nagged at them: what exactly were they burning? Surely it wasn’t as Yang Zaixing had suspected—burning corpses?

Yang Hu ran up to greet Old Man Tong and the others, and seeing that he was safe and sound, Old Man Tong could finally set his mind at ease. With so many people present, he refrained from asking about where Yang Hu and Zhao Yun had disappeared to that morning, and instead inquired about their current activities.

Uncle Yang asked, “Yang Hu, what are you all doing gathered here like this?”

“They’re handling some corpses, just like we did last time,” Yang Hu replied, not daring to hide anything from Uncle Yang and Old Man Tong. After all, a single glance would reveal the truth.

“No wonder it smells exactly the same as before—was this Zhang Xuan’s idea again?” Yang Zaixing asked.

Yang Hu nodded. “Yes. Originally, Zhang Xuan wanted to take these corpses to the magistrate’s office to claim a reward for catching bandits. But after consulting Yuwen Chengdu, he realized the government office was too far away, and it seems there haven’t been any bandit troubles nearby lately, so they gave up on that plan. If they simply abandoned the bodies in the wild, it might cause trouble—though Zhang Xuan didn’t specify what sort. So, he had everyone dig a pit in a low-lying spot, gather some firewood, and burn the bodies to settle the matter once and for all.”

Hearing this, Old Man Tong had no interest in getting a closer look, but he did raise a question: “Who were these dead men?” Uncle Yang and Yang Zaixing were equally curious, turning to Yang Hu for an answer.

Yang Hu then recounted the entire sequence: how Zhao Yun had spotted someone who looked like his cousin and had followed to confirm; how another group tailed them, leading Zhao Yun and Yang Hu to circle around and observe as the two groups clashed; how Zhang Xuan and Yuwen Chengdu arrived after the fight began; how, once the fighting ended, Zhang Xuan brought Zhao Yun to identify his kin and they were reunited; and finally, how they dealt with the corpses. He laid out the whole story at once.

After listening, Old Man Tong simply remarked, “It’s good you’re all safe. But when we get home, you’ll have to learn a lesson about leaving without a word. That’s not how things should be done.”

Yang Hu hung his head, promising he wouldn’t dare repeat the mistake. Uncle Yang, seeing his downcast look, stepped over to comfort him: “Yang Hu, you meant well. But you should have at least said something before leaving. If nothing else, you could have left some trail marks along the way—Zhang Xuan’s method isn’t that hard, is it? Speaking of which, when they’re done here, I need to have a word with Zhang Xuan myself. How did the trail just end all of a sudden?”

Yang Zaixing and Yang Hu cast sympathetic looks at Zhang Xuan, who was busily directing the others; they had both experienced Uncle Yang’s lectures before, and knew just how effective they could be.

With dry wood constantly being added and the flames roaring, the “chemical reaction” of fire and tinder was dramatic. After another quarter of an hour, only a few bones and skulls stubbornly remained, silent witnesses to lives once lived. But the job was as good as finished, nothing much left to see. Zhang Xuan then called for the pit to be filled in, everyone using whatever they had—knives, spears, poles, or even bare hands. When the earth was replaced, he had everyone stamp it down to compact it, and together they completed the task of destroying all traces of the bodies.

Zhao Ding, witnessing the whole process, could only marvel at Zhang Xuan’s professionalism. If this was his first time handling such matters, then he truly had a rare talent for it. Old Man Tong and Uncle Yang, by now, were well used to Zhang Xuan’s ingenious schemes—they could only concede that his unconventional ideas were remarkably effective in practice, and he had proven himself time and again.

When all was done, Zhang Xuan brushed off his hands and clothes, turned to greet Old Man Tong, Uncle Yang, and his eldest brother Yang Zaixing, and then went over to Zhao Ding. “Brother Zhao Ding, have you decided what to do next? Are you planning to continue on your journey, or return to town for a rest first? After all, you and Zhao Yun haven’t seen each other in a long time—you must have much to talk about.”

Zhao Ding glanced at Zhao Yun, then discussed briefly with his guards. After a moment, he made his decision: “We’ll head back to town and rest. After that fight, some of our brothers are gone forever, and everyone is physically and mentally exhausted. There’s no need to rush—the journey can wait. Besides, my cousin and I can spend some time together.”

As he finished, he patted Zhao Yun’s shoulder. Zhao Yun smiled and nodded in agreement; he, too, had many questions for his cousin.

At that moment, Zhao Yun had no idea what “cruel punishment” might await him upon returning to the Yan family—whether from Zhang Xuan, Old Man Tong, or Uncle Yang—but he was sure of one thing: it would be a lesson to remember, and he must never repeat the same mistake.