Chapter 2601: Escaping the Tiger's Mouth

Yuan Shuzhi continued his auditing work that day, though the estate had grown ominously quiet. Over the past few days, Daoist Wood Stone had been absent. Quan Youde had vanished. Even Steward Gao, who once made his rounds daily, had disappeared. The servants who brought his meals were now strangers, and the two guards at the courtyard gate—men he'd grown familiar with—had been replaced by hard-faced newcomers with cruel eyes.

He recognized this for what it was: a dangerous signal. The successive disappearances meant this place was no longer considered safe. That he'd been left behind while the principals fled told him everything about his standing. He wasn't important. And when a location risked exposure, there was only one fate for an unimportant man who knew too much: silence.

Fear gnawed at Yuan Shuzhi, but he dared not show it. Each day he watched and waited, searching for any chance to escape. He didn't know the mountain paths beyond the estate walls, but stumbling through unknown wilderness was preferable to sitting here, waiting for the blade to fall.

After finishing the final account book, he breathed a small sigh of relief. He wrapped it up, placed it in the basket, and carried it out. This was the routine—account books delivered and collected at the courtyard gate, passed back and forth in baskets like his.

But when he arrived at the gate, no new books awaited him. Yuan Shuzhi froze.

"No new account books today?" he asked.

"If there aren't any, there aren't any," the gatekeeper snarled. His eyes held undisguised contempt. "How would we know?"

Yuan Shuzhi's heart screamed danger. But facing that hostile stare and knowing nothing of the world beyond these walls, he could only retreat in silence.

I must escape. Tonight, if possible. The absence of new work was the clearest warning yet—his usefulness had run its course. The silencing would come soon.

He was still pondering escape routes when Steward Gao appeared, materializing after days of absence.

"Mr. Shu. How have you been?"

The steward's face was grim, utterly devoid of warmth. The hair on Yuan Shuzhi's neck prickled. He forced calm into his voice. "Thanks to Steward Gao's blessing, I remain in good health."

"I've been instructed by my master to move you to another location today," Steward Gao said. "Please pack your belongings. We leave immediately."

Get on the road. The phrase struck Yuan Shuzhi like a thunderbolt. In the vernacular of criminals and executioners, it meant only one thing. My life is over.

But what could a powerless scholar do against Steward Gao and his menacing attendants? He submitted. He returned to his room and packed his clothes and money with trembling hands, smiling bitterly to himself. I wonder who'll end up with these things.

When he emerged, a sedan chair waited outside. Yuan Shuzhi climbed in and surrendered his fate to heaven.

Dusk was already settling over the mountains. As the sedan chair wound along the mountain road, night owls shrieked and wind howled through the peaks. Yuan Shuzhi's heart churned with terror. He reached for the curtain, hoping to glimpse the outside—but found it fastened shut. Despair settled over him like a shroud.

They traveled through darkness for what felt like hours before the sedan finally stopped. Through the thin walls, he heard Steward Gao addressing the bearers.

"You've all worked hard these past days. This is a reward from the Daoist—twenty yuan for each man. Take it and return to your homes. Never speak of these matters again."

Voices murmured thanks. Then Steward Gao continued, "The wine, meat, and provisions are also gifts from the Daoist. Take them for your journey. There's a ruined temple here—if the darkness makes travel difficult, you may rest here tonight and leave at dawn. Those in a hurry may depart now."

Footsteps and voices faded gradually into silence. Yuan Shuzhi sat frozen, uncertain what came next. Then the sedan curtain flew open. Steward Gao stood there, his face wooden, his voice cold.

"We've arrived. Come out."

Yuan Shuzhi stepped from the sedan onto a small clearing in the mountains. Darkness pressed in from all sides, impenetrable. By the faint moonlight, he could just make out a half-ruined structure—an abandoned temple, most likely.

Above the mountain ridges, a crescent moon hung high behind drifting clouds, its light blurred and spectral.

While Yuan Shuzhi stood bewildered, Steward Gao spoke again. "Mr. Shu, we've known each other for some time now. Tonight, that acquaintance ends. The farm estate is no longer safe. You've earned good money these past months—enough to sustain you. Take it and make your own way."

Yuan Shuzhi stared at him, stunned. He'd expected swords and axes the moment he left the sedan, his life ending in this remote wilderness. He never imagined hearing these words instead.

If this was a trick, what purpose would it serve? He was already here, already helpless—meat on the chopping block. Why would Steward Gao bother with such an elaborate pretense?

Unable to make sense of it, Yuan Shuzhi could only bow. "Many thanks, Steward Gao. You've looked after me these past days. This student takes his leave."

He shouldered his bundle and turned toward the path they'd arrived on. Steward Gao's voice stopped him.

"Not that road. This one." He pointed to a narrow trail, barely visible among the grass and trees. "Follow it without stopping. Don't look back. Don't try any other paths—they're all dead ends."

Yuan Shuzhi's heart lodged in his throat. "Student... student understands."

As he lifted his foot to leave, Steward Gao's voice came from behind, grimly deliberate: "The road ahead is hard. Don't let worldly possessions weigh you down."

Yuan Shuzhi wanted nothing but to flee. What did possessions matter now? He dropped his bundle and ran.

The trail plunged through deep grass. In the darkness, he could barely see the ground beneath his feet, let alone follow any path. He knew this route might lead to death as easily as salvation—assassins could be waiting ahead just as easily as freedom. But he had no choice except to press forward, groping through the night.

The mountain terrain was treacherous. In places, the path narrowed to a ledge where he could only sidle along sideways. In others, the trail vanished entirely beneath weeds and brush, and he had to navigate by what little moonlight filtered through the clouds. Yuan Shuzhi stumbled and crawled, scratched and battered, looking utterly wretched. When the crescent moon finally passed its zenith, he paused to look back. Six or seven li behind him, firelight flickered—almost certainly the ruined temple. Fear surged fresh through his veins. He didn't dare rest. He pressed on, half-running, half-falling down the mountainside.

At last, as the first gray light touched the sky, the terrain began to ease. He was nearing the edge of the mountains. Though the night's journey had been terrifying, no disaster had befallen him. He allowed himself a breath of relief.

Rounding a mountain col, he spotted a rough tea stall by a riverbed in the distance. His heart lifted. He'd finally reached civilization.

He'd walked through the night on fear alone, never noticing his exhaustion. Now, seeing signs of human habitation, all strength drained from his limbs. He nearly collapsed where he stood.

After panting on the ground for a long while, the toll of the night's ordeal caught up with him—hunger, thirst, and pain throbbing through every muscle. He dragged himself to the tea shed and sat down.

The hour was early, but a few customers already occupied the stall. Yuan Shuzhi ignored them, calling for the waiter.

But instead of the waiter, the old man seated in front turned around. Yuan Shuzhi gaped. Old Man Gao—the one who traveled with me on the boat to Huizhou!

Recognition lit Old Man Gao's face with genuine pleasure. He stood and cupped his hands in greeting. "Mr. Shu! How have you been?"

"Good, good..." Yuan Shuzhi was still reeling from shock. Seeing a familiar face in this remote place filled him with an unexpected warmth. Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out: "I finally escaped with my life!"

The moment he said it, he realized his mistake. But Old Man Gao seemed unbothered. He leaned closer and spoke quietly. "Mr. Shu is clearly a man of great fortune. Though there's a tea shed here, this isn't a place to linger. If you follow the riverbed south for ten li or so, you'll reach Boluo County Town."

Yuan Shuzhi's mind raced. Who was this Old Man Gao, really?

As if reading his thoughts, the old man laughed heartily, then grew serious. "Mr. Shu, though we've only met once, we share the bond of fellow travelers on the same boat."

The meaning was clear enough. Yuan Shuzhi didn't understand the full picture, but he grasped the essential truth: his survival tonight owed much to this Old Man Gao.

Even without knowing the details, gratitude demanded expression. He spoke urgently, "Master Gao! I don't understand everything that's happened, but—"

Old Man Gao waved him off and whispered, "I understand your feelings, and I accept them. No need for formalities." His voice dropped lower still. "But you mustn't stay in Huizhou any longer. When you reach Boluo, don't linger—return to Guangzhou immediately." He pressed a bundle into Yuan Shuzhi's hands. "Dried provisions for the road."

Yuan Shuzhi accepted it with overwhelming gratitude. Only when he felt its weight did he realize the bundle contained silver as well as food. He didn't refuse. "Such great kindness needs no words. This student will never forget Master Gao's grace."

He drank a pot of tea, then hurried toward Boluo.

His mind swarmed with questions. Everything from last night to this morning felt like a fever dream. Steward Gao had brought them to that ruined temple to silence them—the fire he'd seen afterward seemed to confirm it. In a conspiracy as grave as rebellion, loose ends weren't allowed to live.

So why had Steward Gao let him go? It was an enormous risk. Discovery would mean his own death. Had he acted on orders? What was the Daoist's true intention?

And what of Old Man Gao? They'd shared a boat once—nothing more. They couldn't even call themselves friends, had exchanged no favors. Yet somehow, this rescue seemed connected to him as well.

Both named Gao... The thought struck Yuan Shuzhi, and he stopped short.

Old Man Gao had traveled from Guangzhou to Huizhou with him, claiming to be a Huizhou native. They could well be family.

He couldn't fathom their motives. But now that he'd escaped, his duty was clear: reach Boluo County Town as quickly as possible and report everything to Lu Cheng. This gang wasn't merely smuggling drugs—they were plotting rebellion. If he could help crack the case in time, it would be a tremendous achievement.

(End of Chapter)