The nearby banquet tables were occupied by elderly people and children, while the women were mostly busy serving dishes and preparing meals.
Qin Changsheng glanced around but didn’t spot any young men at any of the tables. She discreetly looked toward the main entrance of the house, wanting to ask the children nearby if there was another table inside.
But she suppressed the thought. After all, the child who had just argued with her and called her stingy was still sitting at the next table, pouting and glaring at her with dissatisfaction.
Whether the child’s words were true or just boasting, she couldn’t openly ask, not without being cautious.
Qin Changsheng glanced inside several times but made sure not to draw attention. Nearby, an outdoor stove was set up, and people from outside were carrying dishes, one plate after another, through another door. An idea struck Qin Changsheng. She peered at the dishes from a distance and carefully counted the total number of plates.
Seven plates.
Then, as the person carrying the dishes passed the main entrance, Qin Changsheng counted the plates again without blinking.
Six plates.
Qin Changsheng’s heart sank completely.
There was another table inside the main entrance, a table of people who couldn’t be shown openly. The food was ready, but the people couldn’t be brought out to face her.
She remained calm, slowly chewing a few cold dishes and deliberately avoiding the main courses. Who knew if they were armed or if the food had been drugged?
But she quickly dismissed the thought. The children at the table were fighting over the dishes as if in a brawl. If these people were after her, they must have struck some kind of deal with the villagers. No matter how greedy the villagers were, they wouldn’t risk the lives of their own people. If someone could actually convince the villagers to poison communal food, that would be an unimaginable feat.
A cold sweat broke out on Qin Changsheng’s back, but she maintained her composure. After eating for a while, she felt she had regained enough energy and put down her chopsticks. She stood up and walked over to Aunt Zhang. “Aunt Zhang, I’m full. I’ll head back now.”
Aunt Zhang looked up, concerned. “Why are you leaving so soon? It’s dark, and you’re new here, you don’t know the way. Wait for me, I’ll walk with you.”
She held a plate of food, her face full of concern, though it was impossible to tell if it was genuine or feigned. Qin Changsheng’s mind raced, calculating the likelihood that Aunt Zhang was involved in this.
But Aunt Zhang’s expression was calm and natural, with no trace of insincerity or unease. Qin Changsheng nodded and said, “It’s fine. I have my phone with a flashlight. It’s late, and I want to go back to sleep.”
Aunt Zhang, busy with the dishes, didn’t insist further. Qin Changsheng left the banquet calmly and walked outside.
Everything outside was swallowed by darkness, as if countless ghostly shadows were closing in on her.
Qin Changsheng turned on her phone’s flashlight and walked slowly at first. Once she was far from the banquet lights, she took a deep breath, turned off the flashlight, and switched to her phone’s screen light. The dim glow was just enough to illuminate the path ahead.
She stood in the darkness for a few seconds, then, gripping her phone, she bolted wildly toward the direction of the mountain forest.
Along the way, branches whipped her face, tearing gashes in the denim on her legs. Her heart felt as if it were about to leap out of her chest, pounding fiercely. Only one thought consumed her mind: run!
Get away from this village!
In the darkness, she sprinted frantically. She didn’t know how long she had been running when Qin Changsheng finally stopped, gasping for air in ragged breaths. She dropped to her knees, her heart pounding so hard it seemed ready to burst from her chest. Each breath of fresh air felt like a fiery whip lashing down her lungs.
Warm liquid trickled down her face. Her thighs burned with pain, her soles ached sharply, and her legs were so sore she could barely move. Kneeling on the ground, Qin Changsheng felt her fingers go numb as the light from her phone screen gradually dimmed.
How far had she run?
Her mind was consumed by a single thought: Had she escaped?
In her earlier panic, she hadn’t cared about anything else. Now, her body had reached its limit, on the verge of total collapse. Her fingers were numb, her entire body trembled, and her legs felt as weak as noodles. All she could do was kneel there, unable to move.
She didn’t even have the strength to lift a finger and swipe open her phone screen.
With great difficulty, Qin Changsheng tilted her body and let herself collapse to the ground. Lying there, she took deep, gasping breaths.
After a long while, she raised her hand and weakly wiped the warm liquid from her face. Her fingers came away slick and sticky, with a faint metallic scent of blood.
It seemed a branch had scratched her face, leaving a small but noticeable cut.
Qin Changsheng lay on the ground for a long time before mustering enough strength to stand. A cool breeze blew, drying the blood on her face. She staggered to her feet, blood still flowing from her thigh. Through the torn denim, the flesh was a mangled mess.
Even in such a state, Qin Changsheng couldn’t help but think: When Jiang Zhongxue went up the mountain wearing shorts, how come she didn’t get a single scratch?
Even a small cut would have been something!
She laughed at her own absurd thought. She had just survived such a perilous ordeal and escaped unscathed, yet when it came to Jiang Zhongxue, she was filled with endless anger and grievances.
But Jiang Zhongxue was truly detestable!
Lost in her thoughts, Qin Changsheng tried to lift her leg, only to be met with a sharp, piercing pain. She sat back down, clutching her leg, and gritted her teeth as she examined the injury. She attempted to tear a strip from her clothes to use as a bandage, but after tugging at the fabric three or four times, it wouldn’t rip.
After several failed attempts, Qin Changsheng couldn’t help but curse, “Damn it, even you’re against me, aren’t you?”
But the surrounding forest offered no reply.
She felt warm liquid trickling down her face again. Wiping it away, she muttered bitterly, “What are you crying for? What are you crying for? So useless!”
But the more she cursed, the more freely her tears flowed. Qin Changsheng sobbed, as if in a fit of pique, throwing aside the clothes she had been tearing at but couldn’t rip apart. She wiped her tears and whispered softly, “If only there were even a single step of retreat… How I wish I could be an ordinary, unambitious person. I just want to be ordinary. What Ghost Eye Qin Family? What ancient destiny of Shu? I don’t like it, I hate it. All I want is to live an ordinary life!”
She slid down by the tree and sat on the ground, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling slightly. The night wind rustled through the forest, like a soft sigh of the night.