Chapter Sixty-Three: Answering Questions

On the way back, Zhao Ding walked up to Zhang Xuan and asked, “Brother Zhang, why do you burn these corpses and then bury the ashes? Could you explain it to me and clear up my confusion?”

As Zhao Ding asked this question, Old Man Tong, Uncle Yang, and the others also looked over with puzzled expressions. Although they had seen Zhang Xuan do similar things before, they never really understood the reason behind it. They simply assumed it was to destroy evidence.

Zhang Xuan glanced back at Zhao Ding, patted him on the shoulder, and said solemnly, “Young man, you have a bright future. To think to ask me such a profound question—see, no one else has ever thought about it.” As he spoke, he gave the others who were listening with pricked ears a middle finger.

“In fact, it’s quite simple. First, it’s to destroy evidence. Once the bodies are burned, all that’s left are bones—who could possibly tell who’s who? Even if by some miracle someone does recognize them, by that time we’ll be off enjoying ourselves who knows where. And even if they do figure it out, there would be no direct evidence pointing to us; anything like that would have been burned, or nearly so. By the way, check yourselves—do you have anything that could identify you? Especially anything that wouldn’t burn quickly? Make sure nothing is left behind. Better safe than sorry.”

After hearing Zhang Xuan’s words, Zhao Ding signaled everyone to check their belongings carefully. He himself checked his possessions, and once he was sure everything was accounted for, he let out a long sigh of relief. “Brother Zhang, besides that, is there any other reason? Also, what do you mean by ‘the scene’? It’s the first time I’ve heard that term.”

Zhang Xuan pointed to the place where the fighting had happened and to the burial site. “Simply put, where you fought is the ‘scene of the fight,’ and where the bodies are buried is the ‘scene of burial.’ There’s nothing mysterious about it. Isn’t it obvious when I point it out? This term, ‘scene,’ is especially important in criminal matters… Well, that’s all there is to it. Got it?”

Zhao Ding nodded, half-understanding, muttering “criminal matters” under his breath, about to ask what that meant. But Zhang Xuan pressed on without giving him the chance.

“Besides destroying evidence, there’s something I consider even more important: preventing the outbreak of disease. You all know about epidemics, don’t you?”

“Xuan,” Old Man Tong interrupted, “what do these corpses have to do with epidemics? Or are you saying you can predict the future and know these people were carrying disease?”

Zhang Xuan shook his head. “I don’t know if there was disease among them, though I suppose not. Still, whether there is or not, my responsibility is to prevent disease as much as possible—especially since we’re close to a town.”

Seeing the furrowed brows of the group, Zhang Xuan continued, “I’m simply taking precautions. If these bodies were just left out here, they’d start to decompose. That would bring bacteria and viruses, and attract rats and flies. The rats and flies could then carry those germs to water, to food, and before you know it, there’s an epidemic. By burning the corpses, I’m stopping the source of disease right at the beginning. I know you might not understand what I’m saying right now. In simple terms, the most likely time for epidemics is after a war—when the bodies aren’t properly dealt with, and an outbreak follows.”

Looking at the group, Zhang Xuan wanted to ask, “Do you understand?” But seeing their blank faces, he couldn’t help but mock himself—why was he even trying to explain?

“I know you probably don’t understand me now, but I must tell you this: if you ever go to war, make sure to deal with the bodies properly, or disaster will be inevitable. Don’t think I’m exaggerating.”

Old Man Tong listened, not understanding much of what Zhang Xuan was saying, but resolved to ask a friend about it later, since that friend was an expert in such matters.

Though Zhao Ding didn’t fully grasp Zhang Xuan’s reasoning either, he sensed Zhang Xuan wasn’t just making things up. On the whole, it seemed logical enough.

As for Yang Zaixing, Yuwen Chengdu, Uncle Yang, and the others, Zhang Xuan didn’t expect them to understand—so long as they followed his example, that was enough. Zhao Yun, for his part, hadn’t heard a word. He was too preoccupied, deeply uneasy about the punishment he expected to face.

Zhang Xuan hoped that all his efforts would turn out to be unnecessary, but he couldn’t afford to take that risk. Better to be safe than sorry; a single mistake could mean he could escape unscathed, but for this era, it would be catastrophic. The thought of bringing disaster to so many people made him determined to do what had to be done, no matter how troublesome.