Chapter 2 : Hunted Shadows, Rising Storm (1/2)

As autumn set in, temperatures dropped, and the dry rations they carried would only last for three to four days.

If Chen Jiao hadn’t killed a man, Madam Xu would have likely stayed in Shenyang until her death.

Because this was a time of darkness.

The Central Plains had been overrun by Hu invaders, forcing the dynasty to retreat south. 

Various warlords took up arms in rebellion, plunging the common people into endless suffering.

In the north, the Hu people ravaged the land, slaughtering Han civilians indiscriminately. 

In the south, rival factions fought among themselves, each eager to seize power, caring little for the lives of the people.

Shenyang was one of the few places that could still be considered relatively peaceful.

Even in poverty, Madam Xu had been unwilling to leave, clinging to the desperate hope that Chen Jiao’s father would one day come to rescue them from their misery.

But now, that dream had shattered.

Determined to escape Shenyang as soon as possible, Madam Xu gritted her teeth and spent forty copper coins to board a boat heading for Aizi Port.

The two of them, dressed in ragged clothes, covered in dust, blended into the crowd without drawing any attention.

By the time they arrived at Aizi Port, it was already the afternoon of the following day.

A county now separated them from Shenyang, easing some of their lingering anxiety.

They inquired about a nearby temple that offered shelter and set off on foot.

By the time they reached Tianhua Temple, the sun was beginning to set.

Several other travelers were also seeking refuge there. 

They followed the group inside, where a young novice monk led them to the women’s lodging quarters.

The room was vast, large enough to accommodate over twenty people sleeping on the floor.

By the time they entered, more than a dozen travelers had already settled in—some were local merchants from Tongzhou, while others were refugees from the north.

Even a temple’s shelter required a donation—two copper coins per person, which also covered a simple meal.

Madam Xu reluctantly handed over four copper coins for the two of them.

Soon, a monk brought in a large bucket of coarse grain porridge, and the travelers lined up to receive their portions.

Each person was given a bowl of watery porridge and a slightly sour steamed bun.

But the mother and daughter had no complaints—having a place to rest was already a blessing.

After filling their stomachs, they found an empty corner to settle down.

The lodging was noisy, filled with people talking, the occasional crying child, and scolding parents.

Chen Jiao leaned against the wall, hugging her bundle, eyes closed as she tried to rest, while Madam Xu struck up a conversation with another woman.

Though the sky had yet to darken completely, the travelers passed the time chatting—some lying down, others sitting up in conversation.

A woman with a loud voice soon drew the attention of the room.

She was tall and broad-shouldered, with a square face. 

Her accent suggested she was not from the south. 

As she spoke about the situation in the Central Plains, her expression grew visibly agitated.

“One hundred and fifty thousand people—by heaven’s name! They were all slaughtered by the Hu!”

Gasps filled the room.

A wrinkled old woman asked cautiously, “Were those Hu people truly so ruthless?”

The tall woman slapped her thigh, her voice filled with emotion. 

“You southerners live in comfort!

“The imperial court abandoned the Central Plains! Human bones are used as firewood! People are cooking and eating human flesh like it’s nothing!”

“My family fled last year—we barely made it out alive. Tongzhou is much better—at least it’s peaceful here!”

Her words sent chills down many spines.

A nearby nursing mother joined in, sighing, “The south isn’t peaceful either.

“My older brother trades porcelain, traveling across many regions. Just the other day, he heard that Minzhou might be going to war soon. Who knows if Tongzhou will be affected?”

Her remark stirred unease among the travelers.

Madam Xu anxiously asked, “Why would there be war all of a sudden?”

The nursing mother shrugged, “Who knows?”

At that, people began cursing the imperial court in frustration

The north was lost, the south was in turmoil—there was no place left for ordinary people to live in peace.

Chen Jiao, who had been silently listening to their arguments, remained quiet.

The Five Hu Uprising—one of the darkest periods in history.

A time of utter despair.

A bloody chapter of history lay open before her.

She must have committed some unforgivable sin in her past life to be thrown into this world.

Her heart was restless, yet there was nothing she could do.

Even with her knowledge of five thousand years of history, she was nothing more than a “two-legged sheep” in this dark era—she had no choice but to keep her head down and survive.

She did not sleep a wink that night.

As morning broke, the travelers gradually left the temple. 

Enduring their hunger, mother and daughter continued their journey on foot toward the next county.

Four days after their departure from Shenyang, the corpse buried beneath the water vat began to rot.

For days, no sign of life had come from the neighboring courtyard, stirring Old Madam Zhang’s curiosity. 

She even speculated about it with Old Zhu.

The first to notice something was wrong was Zhu Wenbing, Old Zhu’s grandson.

The boy, ten years old, was nicknamed “Li Nu.” 

At his age, he was full of mischief.

While playing, he accidentally kicked his leather ball into Madam Xu’s courtyard and ran over to retrieve it.

A faint stench of decay drifted from the tiled house, making Li Nu wrinkle his nose in disgust. 

He quickly covered his face, grabbed his ball, and ran back home.

Old Madam Zhang sat under the eaves, picking vegetables.

Li Nu hugged his ball and said, “Grandmother, it smells terrible over there.”

She didn’t think much of it. 

“What smell?”

The boy pointed toward Madam Xu’s rented house. 

“Really bad! It stinks!”

Old Madam Zhang had already been suspicious about the mother and daughter’s disappearance. 

Now even more intrigued, she got up and had her grandson lead her to investigate.

The stench came and went, resembling the smell of a dead rat.

Growing even more suspicious, Old Madam Zhang covered her nose and peered through a gap in the wooden door.

It was locked. 

She couldn’t see much.

With no other choice, grandmother and grandson turned back.

That evening, Zhu Dalang returned from work, and Old Madam Zhang mentioned the strange smell from next door.

While washing his hands, Zhu Dalang said dismissively, “Mother, don’t meddle in other people’s business. If there’s a problem, let the landlord handle it.”

So, the next day, while out shopping, Old Madam Zhang casually mentioned it to the landlord.

The houses Madam Xu had rented and the neighboring courtyard both belonged to Madam Huang, a wealthy landlady.

At midday, Madam Huang arrived, flanked by two servants.

She was a plump woman in her forties, dripping in gold and jade, exuding an air of authority.

Her round face gleamed with thick powder, and her stubby fingers, adorned with a jade bracelet and a gold bangle, looked like plump silkworm larvae. 

She leaned on a maidservant as she walked.

Old Madam Zhang, eager to please, pointed toward the neighboring house and said, “Those two haven’t been seen for days.

“Yesterday, we caught a foul stench coming from there. We tried to check, but the door was locked.”

Madam Huang made a gesture, and her two servants immediately went forward to knock on the door.

Old Madam Zhang, her curiosity burning, followed closely behind.

The servants knocked repeatedly, but no one answered.

The smell from the courtyard grew stronger. 

Madam Huang pressed a perfumed handkerchief to her nose, sneering,

“Disgusting. Did they die inside?”

She ordered her servants to break down the door.

The wooden door was kicked open within moments—

The stench grew even stronger. 

The servants instinctively stepped back, gagging.

Madam Huang, a native of Shu, cursed in her dialect, “Damn it! The stench is unbearable!”

The two male servants, though wary, covered their noses and cautiously stepped inside.

The house was practically empty—two bare rooms with nothing suspicious.

But the overpowering stench made them nauseous.

Following the source of the smell, they stepped into the kitchen.

It was small and cramped, and at first glance, nothing seemed amiss.

One of the servants, curious, loosened his grip on his nose and sniffed the air like a hound.

His gaze locked onto the water vat.

The odor was stronger here. 

Something wasn’t right.

Without hesitation, he lifted the lid.

Inside—clear water. 

Nothing unusual.

But the stench was even stronger.

The other servant also noticed something off and began kicking away the miscellaneous objects nearby.

Soon, they uncovered a wooden board beneath the vat.

One of them squatted down, took another deep sniff—

Disgusting! 

The stench was unbearable!

The two quickly exchanged looks—they had found the source.

Working together, they heaved the heavy water vat aside.

One of them roughly tore away the wooden plank.

And then—

A sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

A wave of putrid decay erupted into the air—

The unmistakable, overwhelming stench of rotting flesh.

Because the soil was too shallow, the head had been exposed, its decaying flesh crawling with maggots. 

The scene was utterly horrifying.

The two men, caught off guard by the sight of the mutilated, festering head, let out blood curdling screams.

One of them bolted out of the house, while the other stumbled over a wooden plank, falling to the ground and wetting himself in terror.

Outside, Madam Huang and the others saw the servant pale as a ghost as he ran out. 

They hurriedly questioned him.

The man was still trembling, drenched in a cold sweat despite the midday heat.

He pointed toward the house with a shaking finger, his voice stuttering: 

“M-Madam… T-There’s a… a dead body inside!”

Madam Huang immediately assumed it was Madam Xu and her daughter, insisting on going to see for herself.

The servant tried to stop her, warning that it was not something she should witness.

But Madam Huang was stubborn and bold, insisting on going in.

Old Madam Zhang also assumed that Madam Xu and her daughter had died inside and, out of curiosity, followed along.

What they saw inside made them scream in terror.

Despite her plump frame, Madam Huang ran like a rolling ball, tumbling out of the house and vomiting violently under the pomegranate tree.

Old Madam Zhang, on the other hand, crawled out on all fours, her face ashen with fear.

A murder case had been uncovered.

The servants immediately ran to the yamen to report it to the authorities.

Madam Huang continued to vomit uncontrollably, her face twisted in shock, as her maid helped her into Old Madam Zhang’s courtyard. 

Still gagging, she cursed in her native dialect:

“Heavens above! I, Huang Sanniang, must have the worst damn luck to come across such an accursed mess!”

A corpse found in her rental property meant the house would be impossible to rent out in the future. 

Enraged, she began cursing Madam Xu and her daughter nonstop.

Old Madam Zhang, meanwhile, sat slumped on a stool, her face drained of color, unable to utter a single word.

Half an hour later, several constables arrived to investigate.

Word spread fast—soon, a crowd of curious townsfolk gathered outside, eager to see the commotion.

The constables, experienced in handling murder cases, immediately secured the crime scene and prepared to retrieve the body.

By now, the corpse had severely decomposed, and since it had been forcefully crammed into a small pit, the retrieval process was gruesome beyond words.

Even though the constables covered their noses and mouths tightly, the sheer horror of the sight was almost too much to bear.

They laid out a white cloth on a wooden board, carefully removed the remains, and covered the corpse before carrying it out to a shaded area.