Volume One: The Carefree Journey of Indistinguishable Paper Leaves Chapter Eighty-Three: The Old Residence

When Han Yi saw the villagers in a panic, he hurried over, explained the situation to put everyone at ease, then told them to disperse, leaving only two or three strong young men behind in case the ugly man suddenly became violent.

Yang Ning sent Han Yi back inside to fetch a large bowl of food. Han Yi brought the bowl over, but as soon as he approached, the ugly man immediately stepped back, his gaze full of hostility as he stared at Han Yi, refusing to accept the bowl and chopsticks.

Yang Ning took the bowl and chopsticks from Han Yi, and said gently with a smile, “You’re hungry. This is food. If you eat, your hunger will go away.”

Strangely enough, the ugly man was openly hostile toward Han Yi and the others, but upon hearing Yang Ning’s voice, though still cautious, the hostility faded considerably. Yang Ning drew closer, and unlike how he shrank from Han Yi, the ugly man did not retreat, but instead took the bowl—though he ignored the chopsticks, grabbing the food with his hands and devouring it ravenously, as though he had never eaten before. Yang Ning could tell at a glance that he must have been starving.

Previously, the man had kept himself wrapped tightly in his cloak, so his form had been hidden; now, as he reached out for the bowl, the cloak fell open, revealing his bare torso, with only a pair of tattered shorts for clothing. Gu Qinghan saw this and exclaimed in surprise, quickly turning away.

Yang Ning, however, saw clearly that the man’s body was not only filthy but also covered in scars. The dirt could not conceal the shocking network of wounds—these were not blade wounds, but countless fine cuts that had healed into scars, crisscrossing his gaunt, emaciated frame. Yang Ning understood at once: the man had wandered the wilds, especially the mountains, and had inevitably been cut by rocks and thorns. Not knowing how to treat his wounds, they had simply scarred over. There were at least sixty or seventy such marks, from his upper body down to his legs, making him look like a criminal who had escaped unspeakable torture.

The ugly man sat on the ground, wolfing down the food, oblivious to everything around him. Yang Ning took the opportunity to observe him closely. If, as Yang Ning suspected, he was a missing relative from a wealthy family, then he must have been lost for a long time; his beard was a tangled mass, which could not have grown in just a few months.

As for the valuable bearskin cloak, its fur was already sparse and threadbare, but thanks to the hide’s toughness, it was still intact despite its wear.

Yang Ning was still pondering the man’s identity when the ugly fellow suddenly held out his empty bowl, looking at Yang Ning with pleading eyes and muttering, “Hungry… food…!”

Yang Ning had no choice but to send Han Yi for another bowl. The man ate three bowls in succession and still seemed unsatisfied. Yang Ning thought to himself that the village was poor, and the villagers’ food supplies were scarce; he could not let this man keep eating endlessly. Noting that the man’s belly was already swollen, Yang Ning feared he might do himself harm and refused to let him have more.

Seeing that no more food was forthcoming, the ugly man simply wrapped himself in his cloak and lay down to sleep right there.

Han Yi set men to keep watch over him. With night falling, it was impossible to report to the authorities until morning.

Assuming Gu Qinghan was a man, Han Yi arranged only one room for the two of them. Gu Qinghan felt uncomfortable about this but, with it being so late, did not want to trouble anyone else. She resigned herself to staying up through the night, planning to leave for the Qi family’s ancestral home at dawn.

Sharing a room, Yang Ning took it easily, settling himself on the floor without complaint. Gu Qinghan felt a twinge of guilt but could not very well offer him the bed and so lay down fully clothed herself.

Although the ugly man was peculiar, Gu Qinghan felt no connection to him and was unconcerned about his origins. Her mind was occupied with the troubles that had befallen Fengyi, how the people bore grudges against the Jin Yi Marquis’s household, and how this had damaged the Qi family’s reputation—yet she had been completely unaware, kept in the dark. If not for Yang Ning’s suggestion that they travel incognito, she would have remained ignorant of it all. She quietly reproached herself.

Lying awake, unable to sleep, she soon heard Yang Ning snoring softly. She sat up, saw him curled on the floor, and felt a pang of pity. After a moment’s hesitation, she got up, took a quilt, and draped it over him. Seeing him sleeping soundly, she smiled wryly and whispered, “Ning’er, you may not realize, but growing up isn’t always a blessing. In the future, you’ll have many burdens to bear. Spoiled as you are, I wonder if you’ll be able to withstand them. But no matter what, I’ll always be by your side, sharing whatever comes our way.” With that, she returned to bed and lay quietly.

Yang Ning, of course, was not truly asleep. He was most afraid that Gu Qinghan would recall the events of the day and question him about his martial arts, so he pretended to sleep early to avoid trouble.

Hearing her soft words nearby, he was moved.

At the first light of dawn, Gu Qinghan woke Yang Ning. Seeing her haggard expression, he exclaimed, “Third Mother, did you not sleep at all last night?”

Gu Qinghan shook her head gently. “We shouldn’t linger here. Let’s hurry back to the ancestral home—there’s much to do.”

As they rose, they roused Han Yi. After a quick wash, they bid him farewell. Han Yi, worried that Steward Luo might return to cause trouble, did not detain them. As they left, they saw the ugly man still sleeping near the door.

“We’ll leave him to you,” Yang Ning said quietly to Han Yi. “Luo left a few horses—consider them compensation for your village’s losses.” Han Yi thought to himself that there was no way they could afford such fine horses, and Yang Ning said no more. He untied the horses, and with Gu Qinghan rode out of the village.

They had not gone more than a few miles before Yang Ning sensed a shadow flicker past. Startled, he saw a figure ahead—none other than the ugly man.

Gu Qinghan was shocked. “How did he catch up?”

Yang Ning reined in his horse, and the ugly man stopped at the roadside, looking at him expectantly. Glancing back, Yang Ning saw the village had disappeared from view. Looking again at the ugly man, he was astonished. “How… how did he manage to catch up?”

Gu Qinghan was equally amazed. “Did he… did he really run all this way on foot?” It was unbelievable. They had left the village at a gallop, and the horses were fast. In just a short time, they’d covered several miles. When they left, the man was still sleeping on the ground, yet now he had caught up, which defied all explanation.

Yang Ning, too, was shaken. He had heard the man was extremely swift—he had evaded the villagers several times when caught stealing chickens—but had never seen it himself. Witnessing it now, he realized the man was far faster than he’d imagined, beyond human limits.

Wrapped in his black cloak, the ugly man looked at Yang Ning and repeated, “Hungry, food!”

Yang Ning pulled himself together. “Why did you follow us? Go back to the village—they’ll feed you and help you get home.”

The ugly man did not seem to understand, staring blankly at Yang Ning and repeating his two phrases over and over.

Yang Ning wondered if his kindness the night before had made the man see him as a source of food. He pulled a piece of silver from his pocket and tossed it over. “Give this to them—they’ll feed you. Stop following us.” He thought he and Gu Qinghan had important matters to attend to and could not take this strange man along.

The ugly man picked up the silver but, with a flash of anger, hurled it back at Yang Ning, growling.

Yang Ning caught it. At his side, Gu Qinghan frowned. “Let’s not get involved with him. He’s an unknown. Once he can’t keep up, he’ll head back.” With a curt command, she spurred her horse forward. Yang Ning did not linger either, moving past the ugly man at a gallop.

The two of them sped off, quickly leaving the man far behind. Yang Ning looked back to see if he was still following, and to his amazement, the ugly man was running right behind their horses, keeping pace with ease, his cloak billowing like wings.

Once more, Yang Ning reined in and turned his horse around, frowning. “Go back now, or I’ll have to teach you a lesson.” He raised his whip, threatening to strike.

The ugly man shrank back in fear, looking pitifully at Yang Ning. “I have no food for you. If you return to the village, you’ll get something to eat. Don’t follow us anymore.” With that, Yang Ning turned his horse and sped off again.

After a short distance, he looked back and saw the ugly man still following, though keeping a greater distance, apparently cowed by the threat.

Yang Ning could only sigh and ignore him, riding on.

They headed south. At first, each time Yang Ning looked back, the ugly man was still there. After ten miles, his figure was distant at last. Yang Ning breathed a sigh of relief. The man’s endurance, though extraordinary, could not match a good horse forever; as the ride wore on, he fell behind.

Without stopping, they rode on beneath the rising sun. After less than two hours, Gu Qinghan called from ahead, “Ning’er, the ancestral home is just ahead.” She slowed her horse and pointed. Yang Ning looked where she indicated and saw, beneath the vast sky, a sprawling manor of blue bricks and red tiles, unmistakable in the landscape.

Before the Qi family’s ancestral home lay a clear pond, ringed by willows planted at intervals. The gentle breeze stirred their leaves, lending the old manor a strong air of antiquity. Behind the house stretched a dense bamboo grove.

The ancestral home stood in the southwest, with only a few scattered households nearby, but the Qi manor stood alone, without neighbors on either side, giving it an air of solitude.

Decades ago, the place had been lively. The Qi family was once a great house in Jiangling, with estates and businesses throughout the region, including Jingzhou. Later, when the old Marquis of Jin Yi followed the late Emperor in his campaigns, he donated nearly all his holdings, keeping only the ancestral home. Most of the family relocated to the capital, and the remaining branches moved away.

With the Qi family’s manor standing alone, no one dared build nearby, leaving the place solitary—except when kinsmen returned from the capital, when it became lively once more.

Though now lonely, the manor was a symbol; no one dared show it the slightest disrespect.

The red gates were striking. On either side stood a stone lion, magnificent and proud. Yang Ning and Gu Qinghan dismounted, looked up at the simple inscription—“Qi Residence”—and found no other embellishment.

Yang Ning glanced at Gu Qinghan, then stepped forward and knocked loudly. At first, there was no answer. He knocked again, and soon heard a latch being lifted. The red door opened a crack, and an elderly man poked his head out, squinting at them. “This is the old Marquis’s residence. Who are you looking for?”

“Tell Chief Steward Qi Hong that the heir to Jin Yi has returned,” Gu Qinghan replied coldly, dismounting to stand at Yang Ning’s side, her beautiful face expressionless.

The old man was taken aback. He scrutinized them, suspicion in his eyes, and shook his head. “You can’t see the Chief Steward. He can’t see anyone.”