Chapter Twelve: Nowhere to Turn

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“What do you mean?” Ma Yu’s eyes suddenly lit up.

“We might as well publicly claim that Feng Qichuan is the very bandit who has been burning, killing, and pillaging.”

“Then, combined with what he did in the city today, it will be impossible for him to explain himself. Who would ever believe the words of a criminal?”

Ma Yu gave him an approving glance, pondered briefly, and said, “That’s not enough. Let’s add fuel to the fire: send a few men into the city to commit crimes, disguised as Feng Qichuan. But don't make the same mistake as last time—leave no evidence behind.”

“My lord, you are truly wise and resourceful. In this way, Feng Qichuan will surely become a rat scorned by everyone.”

...

Feng Qichuan returned directly to his former hiding place. He felt his insides churning violently, barely able to hold himself together on the way. That palm strike from Ma Yu had truly injured him badly.

“What happened to you?” Yi An quickly supported him, asking in confusion.

Wasn’t he just out gathering information?

How did he come back so battered in such a short time?

Feng Qichuan sat on the ground, caught his breath, and briefly explained what had happened.

Yi An frowned and said, “We can’t stay here long. Hold on a bit longer, and let’s leave first.”

Taking advantage of the night, they swiftly left the City Lord’s mansion.

Throughout all of Yingchuan, there was no longer a place for them to hide.

Even if they found another refuge, Ma Yu would find them sooner or later—it was only a matter of time.

With only a few thousand households in Yingchuan, even if the city guards searched house by house, within a day they would be cornered.

But there were no better options at hand; every moment delayed was a moment gained.

After a brief period of rest and recuperation, Feng Qichuan’s complexion improved, a bit more color returning to his cheeks.

Feng Qichuan said, “Let’s go to Master Zhang’s house. I know he has a hidden cellar there.”

Years ago, he had helped Master Zhang escort goods several times.

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The cargo was refined salt, which the imperial court had always strictly forbidden—selling private salt was a capital crime.

But Master Zhang had offered him a reward so generous that he simply couldn’t refuse.

That payment was well worth the risk.

And the place where the salt was hidden—so long as Master Zhang kept silent—was utterly unimaginable to anyone else.

Master Zhang’s residence was not large, but well-appointed: a pavilion, a pond, five rooms.

Yi An went up and knocked on the door. Master Zhang himself answered. He was momentarily startled to see Yi An; but when he saw her supporting Feng Qichuan, a barely perceptible panic flashed across his face.

Master Zhang lowered his voice, “Feng Qichuan, why are you coming here? The whole city is hunting you. Coming here won’t help.”

“Don’t think about burning bridges. If you’re willing to help me, that’s good. If you refuse, I won’t hesitate to expose all your secret dealings.” Feng Qichuan gave him a meaningful look. How could he not know Master Zhang's wish to protect himself?

Master Zhang not only refused to help, but was the one who most hoped to see him dead.

Only the dead keep secrets.

“You’re shameless! We agreed to this long ago. How can you break your word?” Master Zhang stomped his foot in anger, but was helpless—after all, his weakness was in Feng Qichuan’s hands.

Feng Qichuan offered an apologetic smile; he had no other options.

“Master Zhang, as long as you keep silent, who could possibly discover your hidden cellar? Help me this once, and we’ll be even—I’ll owe you a debt. But if you bring the authorities here, I won’t hesitate to drag you down with me.” Feng Qichuan said.

The threat of mutual destruction made Master Zhang break out in a cold sweat. All his darker thoughts were instantly driven away.

“Master Zhang, since we’ve known each other for years, let me give you some advice: sell your belongings and leave Yingchuan as soon as possible.” Feng Qichuan urged.

“Why? Did you learn something? Is that why you’re in trouble?” Master Zhang took a deep breath and asked.

He knew Feng Qichuan would never say such things without reason.

“You could say so. Ma Yu is a spy for the Moruo Sect. The entire Yingchuan is under his control. I don’t know what their true aim is, but it’s definitely sinister and ambitious.” Feng Qichuan replied.

Master Zhang fell silent, knowing Feng Qichuan would not joke about such matters.

He was a decisive man.

He immediately resolved that, once Feng Qichuan’s crisis passed, he would move his whole family elsewhere.

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“Then why don’t you step forward and expose Ma Yu? Commander Sun Xin is fiercely opposed to evil, and he controls the city guards. Isn’t it possible to fight Ma Yu?” Master Zhang suggested.

“It’s useless. Even ten Sun Xins combined couldn’t defeat Ma Yu. He’s already reached the late stage of the Postnatal Realm. If I did that, I’d only expose myself.” Feng Qichuan shook his head. What would be the point of revealing Ma Yu’s true identity?

As long as Ma Yu remained, all resistance would be futile.

Ma Yu could easily silence all who knew the truth.

Besides, who would believe the words of a ‘criminal’?

Master Zhang was taken aback, but soon understood the pros and cons.

For Feng Qichuan, this was truly a dead end.

Master Zhang sighed deeply. “Stay below. I’ll bring you food from time to time. But let’s be clear: once things quiet down, you must leave.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t implicate you. As long as you keep the cellar’s secret, you’ll be perfectly safe,” Feng Qichuan replied with a grateful glance.

“They don’t have the skill to build a cellar beneath the pond,” Master Zhang said, somewhat smugly.

Years ago, he had unexpectedly acquired a Water Tribe’s Water Repelling Pearl.

It was said that the Water Repelling Pearl was the condensed inner core of a Water Tribe creature, though Master Zhang could not verify this.

As its name suggests, the Water Repelling Pearl could keep water at bay within a meter.

So, Master Zhang had the idea to dig a cellar beneath the pond, embedding the pearl at the entrance.

Thanks to this cellar, his smuggling of private salt had always gone smoothly.

The cellar wasn’t large, but could easily accommodate two people.

Feng Qichuan sat cross-legged, channeling his energy to heal.

By the next day, his back injury finally improved somewhat. Had it been merely a superficial wound, he would not have ended up in such a state.

It was those streams of energy penetrating his organs that were hardest to purge.