Chapter 8, Killing with the Eyes
The corn, weighing less than ten jin, amounts to only eight or nine jin after husking. For the seven members of the Han family, including Zhang, if they eat heartily, it would barely suffice for two meals.
Father Han extended a pair of rough hands, thick with calluses, before Zhang Fang, opening them to reveal two five-zhu coins, with a humble expression, saying: "Young sir, there are still two coins remaining, I return them to you"
Zhang Fang has resigned himself to the situation, and can only say: "How about this, this stone of rice won't last long, in a few days, I will have to trouble you, old sir, and Brother Han to go purchase more. At that time, we can convert these two coins into rice money, is that acceptable?"
Zhang Fang also put away the gold ingots, clapped his hands, and said with a smile: "Alright, it is time to deal with the tyrants."
Zhang Fang was about to speak when he heard a commotion outside the house. Han's sister-in-law hurriedly stood up, lifted her skirt, and ran out. Before long, accompanied by the noise, a group of people surged into the room. At the forefront were the elder and Qingyan, followed by the residents of Qingxi.
This eerie and thrilling situation was very brief, lasting only the time it takes to blink two or three times. The assassin shuddered all over and regained consciousness. However, in that critical and fleeting moment, the situation was completely reversed
Father Han raised his wrinkled, yellowed face, full of gratitude: "The kindness of a meal, the Han family has no way to repay. In the future, please feel free to command us, and we will comply with any request."
After a long while, Zhang Fang's neck moved slightly, producing a cracking sound. He mechanically turned his head, staring blankly at the Han father and son, and murmured, "So this is what it feels like to kill..."
The sharp tip of the sword deeply penetrated the assassin's throat, severing the trachea, slicing through the esophagus, and strangling the medulla oblongata at the back of the neck—this is the neural nexus connecting the brainstem to the body. Once the medulla oblongata is severed, all neural reflexes cease. The assassin's blade was only three inches away from Zhang's eyes, yet it could not pierce any further, collapsing limply like an empty sack.
Mr. Han shook his head: "Even if the young master has ten thousand coins, these two coins still do not belong to my father and son. Please take them back."
Zhang Fang ran wildly with disheveled hair, sweat pouring down like a river. Behind him, a group of fierce-looking thugs pursued him, each brandishing a chillingly gleaming ring-headed knife, their sharp blades sending shivers down his spine. Leading the pack was Liu Kuailei, his eyes a ghastly green, his mouth dripping with black blood, his swollen, purplish tongue lolling out as he let out a mournful cry: "Return my life..."
... ...
Run, run fast, run recklessly! Let the thorns tear apart the splendid garments, cut through the handsome face, and on the blood-stained visage, there is a narrative filled with panic and despair
In the dimly lit jungle, the shadows of the trees loom, the sound of the wind is mournful, and the branches and leaves dance wildly
Han Yi also said: "For those who dwell in the mountains and fields, running errands is a common occurrence; how can one count it as a fee for footwork? I kindly ask the young lord to retract it"
Everything is too late! Am I to be scattered once again just three days after arriving in this world? In the next reincarnation, will I still be so fortunate? ... Heaven does not favor a person forever; if I die this time, there is an eighty to ninety percent chance that my soul will perish along with my body ...! ... No! I absolutely cannot die!
The Han father and son exchanged a glance, and for the time being, it could be kept; thus, they put away the money.
Ah! Zhang Fang suddenly sat up, cold sweat streaming down. The events of the daytime murder were too intense, and indeed, he had a nightmare—no! No, it was not a nightmare!
The Han father and son went out to purchase grain and returned the next day, having spent an additional night beyond the expected time
Zhang Fang nodded quietly; this simple family was completely trustworthy. He then reached into his bosom, took out a money pouch, and revealed a small piece of gold in front of the Han family members: "What is the value of this gold?"
The strange noises from within the house startled the Han father and son. As they hurriedly put on their clothes and lit the pine resin firewood to rush inside, they were met with the following scene: a man of unknown identity lay on the ground, a short blade had fallen beside him, and a sharp sword was plunged into his neck, with blood gushing out profusely, creating a large pool on the floor. The stench of blood filled the entire room.
Zhang Fang has also come to understand that during this period, the Han people placed great importance on etiquette. Even commoners were not lacking in manners. What you need to do is not to step forward to assist, as that would be considered disrespectful, but rather to return the greeting. There are also nuances to returning a greeting, which depend on the relative status of both parties, with various postures for returning greetings. Zhang Fang does not quite grasp this, and since the soul of the original owner of this body has been completely integrated with him, he has lost some of the original instincts. Therefore, he can only follow the etiquette of the Han family father and son and return the greeting in kind.
Zhang Fang drew his sword, retracted his elbow, flicked his arm, and thrust forward, all in one fluid motion
Zhang Fang suddenly sat up, startling the assassin, whose hand holding the sharp blade hesitated for a moment. However, the pause lasted no more than half a second before he swiftly thrust down.
This lunch was the most delicious one since Zhang's arrival in this time and space three days ago
In front of the bed stood a shadowy figure, starkly contrasted by a gleaming blade held in its hand. At this moment, the blade was raised high. ... In the next instant, the mirror-like, cold blade would pierce through his body ...
In the blink of an eye, a strong desire for survival erupted from Zhang Fang's eyes, blazing like an invisible sword that deeply pierced the assassin's gaze, cutting through the soul
The Han father and son are indeed paying great respect, and seeing that the noble young gentleman reciprocates with the same courtesy, they are truly both astonished and apprehensive, repeatedly bowing their heads in reverence
Mr. Han shook his head repeatedly, anxiously saying: "How can this be? Young master, your gift of rice is already a tremendous favor; how can you possibly give money as well? Absolutely not."
Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath my feet, and my body plummeted into a bottomless pit, where the crisscrossing spikes resembled the gaping jaws of a shark
Qingxi Village has a total of thirty-five households. Excluding the Han family and the elderly, each of the remaining households generously offered a full bowl of millet in earthenware bowls as a gesture of goodwill towards the villagers. In the end, less than twenty jin of millet remained, which Zhang Fang divided in half, giving one half to the elderly and keeping the other half for personal use
Yet Zhang Fang remained seated, motionless, like a statue
Under the leadership of the elders, everyone bowed in unison to Zhang Fang, creating a quiet scene where no one spoke, yet the sincerity that came from the heart was clearly reflected on their faces
The assassin's movements were instantly frozen, as if ensnared by an invisible net, rendering them immobile
A bag of grain is equivalent to one stone (approximately eighty pounds today). In order to save costs, the Han father and son purchased unhulled millet, which is somewhat cheaper. The remaining several dozen coins were entirely spent on pickles and dried meat.
The scent of meat wafted through the air, causing the stomachs, already emptied by two days without oil or water, to secrete an abundance of saliva. The Han brothers were even more affected, their two pairs of greenish eyes never leaving the grains, pickles, and meat. The Han family’s sister-in-law held her son, who was reaching out with a gurgling sound, her eyes brimming with tears
The longsword is placed by the bedside, within reach, yet there is simply no time to grasp it
Zhang Fang did not wish to be subservient, standing tall and speaking gently: "Old sir, please speak your mind directly, there is no need for excessive formalities"
Although Han's sister-in-law mixed corn, meat jerky, and vegetables all together in a clay pot (a type of pot from the Qin and Han dynasties), boiled it until it was mushy, and then scooped it out to dip in sauce and share, it was extremely simple. However, with rice, sauce, and meat, what more could one possibly desire?
Zhang Fang also slowly stood up from the mat, bowing in return—at this moment, Qingxi Ju truly accepted him. To repay kindness with kindness will surely yield rewards
If someone were to enter from outside at this moment, they would undoubtedly witness this bizarre scene—a shadow holding a sharp blade is poised to stab a young boy sitting on the bed, the tip of the blade mere inches from the boy's eyes, as if with a blink, the boy would spill blood on the floor. Yet, the shadow seems to be under a spell of paralysis, becoming as immobile as a statue, the blade trembling violently, just a fraction away from piercing through.
The Han father and son exchanged glances, hesitantly saying: "I fear... it may be worth a thousand coins..."
I could have returned on time yesterday, but it happened that the county magistrate Ban was on an inspection tour, and the town was under strict surveillance, preventing any movement, which caused a delay of an hour. By the time it was dark, I had missed the return deadline. Fortunately, the rice was bought back as scheduled. Han Yi explained while happily unloading a bag of rice and two jars of pickled vegetables from the cart (which is a one-wheeled cart, known as "xuan" in the late Western Han period, commonly referred to as a cart in the folk context). Among the items was also a package wrapped in lotus leaves, and upon opening it, there were two pieces of smoked meat.
After the meal, Father Han solemnly gathered the entire family, and they all knelt and sat on a tattered mat to pay their respects to Zhang Fang.
Zhang Fang picked up two five-zhu coins with one hand, while holding a gold ingot in the other, and gestured towards Han and his son, raising his eyebrows. He then placed the coins back into Han's father's palm and smiled, saying: "Therefore, I kindly ask you to accept the money."
Watching the Han family's three brothers devour their food ravenously, along with the daughter-in-law who occasionally wipes her tears while feeding her grandson, Han's father trembles his lips, his old eyes gradually becoming clouded... This meal, a "delicacy," brings a profound sense of satisfaction to the Han family, evident in their expressions
Zhang Fang pressed his hands down on those rough hands, brought them together, shook his head and smiled, saying: "Consider it a fee for your hard work, old man and Brother Han."