One Hundred Thirteen: Pursuit

Just as Zhang Xuan was looking about him, two people were watching him from a small earthen rise not far away. One of them had clamped a hand over the other’s mouth. The one being silenced looked to be about the same age as Zhao Yun. Seeing Zhang Xuan stop and start searching for something, the one covering the mouth grew even more anxious that he might be discovered, and pressed down more firmly, leaving the other only able to make the faintest sounds. Zhang Xuan, of course, knew nothing of any of this.

Fortune, at last, favored the diligent. Drawing on the little geography he knew, Zhang Xuan looked east and west, then headed toward lower ground. As he walked, he carefully observed the distribution of plants and other living things, and from time to time he even rose onto his toes to sniff the air for dampness or the faint scent of earth. Putting to full use the knowledge he had once read in books, knowledge he had never had the chance to test in practice, he finally spotted a brook.

Humming a little tune only he knew, Zhang Xuan went happily to the stream, ready to butcher and wash the wild chicken. He crouched by the water and, with a swift stroke, aimed for the bird’s throat, wanting to end its life as quickly and cleanly as possible. Watching it struggle, he could not help feeling a little pity at times, and a faint sense of guilt would slowly creep into his heart. Because of that thin thread of conscience, tasks like this were usually left to Old Tong and the others.

Once the killing and cleaning were done, Zhang Xuan casually reached behind him and found a piece of cloth, which he used to wipe his hands. Halfway through, however, he suddenly went still. Staring at the cloth in his hand, he wondered where it had come from. Could there be something uncanny in this area? Thinking this, he gave a shiver, threw the cloth onto the ground at once, and suddenly felt, for no reason he could name, that someone nearby might be watching him. Yet he did not dare turn around. “I’ve brought this on myself,” he muttered to himself in fear. “I said I shouldn’t have killed anything. I said I shouldn’t have mocked those brothers just now. And now look, retribution has come. Truly, what one fears most is what one meets. May the Buddha protect me. May the merciful Bodhisattva protect me...” Crouched there with a trace of fear in his heart, he kept muttering under his breath.

As he mumbled, Zhang Xuan accidentally glanced at the cloth he had thrown to the ground and noticed something black smeared across it, like blood that had already turned dark. To confirm whether it really was blood, he forgot his fear for a moment, picked up the cloth, and sniffed it. There did seem to be a faint smell of blood, though he could no longer tell whether the scent came from the cloth itself or from the chicken blood still lingering on his own hands after cleaning the bird.

“So someone really was nearby just now. Or maybe someone stayed here before,” Zhang Xuan said to himself. “Then the sound I heard earlier wasn’t hallucination either, and that blood stain I saw before... and I really did feel like someone was watching me. Could that person still be around here?” In truth, the only thing he had smelled was the chicken blood on his own hands. As for where the cloth had come from, and what exactly the black smears on it were, no one could explain that. What could be said for certain was that the two people mentioned earlier had never come anywhere near this place. In the end, Zhang Xuan was simply lucky enough to stumble, by accident, upon the right answer.

He compared the bloodstain he had seen earlier near where he had caught the chicken with his current position, then ran through all manner of math and physics in his mind to estimate where anyone nearby might have gone. Settling on a direction, he picked up the chicken and set off that way. As for why he chose it, it had nothing whatsoever to do with those formulas. After all, everything he had once learned in math and physics had long since been returned to his teachers. In truth, it was just a blind guess, entirely based on his sixth sense. If there had to be a reason, it was simply that he had not yet walked in that direction.

When Zhang Xuan had first seen the cloth, he had still been a little afraid. Yet now, no one knew what had lent him such courage; he had actually overcome his fear and set out once more in search of the truth.

Perhaps a blind cat had indeed bumped into a dead mouse. As Zhang Xuan walked on, he really did spot three figures ahead. They looked as though they were coming straight toward him. Yet the three were in fact in the midst of a chase: one of them, carrying something like a wooden club, was pursuing the other two. Once they drew closer, Zhang Xuan saw that the two fleeing figures were not very old either. The older one seemed about his own age, while the younger one looked about Zhao Yun’s age. These were none other than the two who had been hiding on the little slope and watching Zhang Xuan earlier, at the spot where he had found the blood.

As the distance closed further, the two being pursued also spotted Zhang Xuan. The older child hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the younger one and dragged him off in another direction. Zhang Xuan had originally been about to greet them, seeing that they were running straight toward him, but they did not give him the chance. They simply turned and fled.

The one chasing them with the wooden club also noticed Zhang Xuan. Seeing his targets change direction, he had originally intended to keep pursuing them, but when he saw Zhang Xuan standing there in a daze, he stopped and walked toward him instead.