Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Who Was the Man Beside the Household God

Liu Kan laughed louder. “Boss, don’t worry. This money’s an offering. I didn’t rob anyone.”

The older yamen runner glanced backward. “They can buy things in town. Looks like some of them still have goods on them.”

“I saw plenty sneaking little purchases,” Liu Kan admitted, then his narrow eyes slid to the Xie family members coming around the corner. Suspicion sharpened his gaze. “But… something feels strange.”

The older man followed his line of sight. “What is it?”

“Hard to say.” Liu Kan tilted his chin toward the Xie family. “Why aren’t they buying anything? We were practically giving them a chance. We routed them through Lai Yun Street on purpose—so they could sneak a little supply shopping, right?”

“It is odd,” the older man said.

Liu Kan nodded toward Xie Zhen in the distance. “That woman’s got something valuable on her. I can feel it.”

The older runner’s expression tightened. “Before we’re out past the pass, don’t you touch the Xie family. Take from others first.”

It wasn’t advice.

It was a warning.

Liu Kan swallowed his greed and nodded quickly. “Understood. After we’re out past the pass.”

Satisfied—barely—the older runner loosened his shoulders and looked around.

His brow furrowed.

“In past years, we didn’t see this many people on this road.”

Liu Kan waved it off while counting his gains. “Maybe business is just good in Song Jiang Town this year.”

Not far away, Xie Yu Chuan had just stepped out of the crowded street when Xie Wen Jie moved close, voice lowered.

“Sixth Brother. I know what’s wrong. A few men have been following our family.”

Xie Yu Chuan’s expression didn’t change. He only nodded once.

“Take a few people up front. Protect the womenfolk.”

Xie Wen Jie nodded and called several Xie family guards who were being exiled with them. They quickened their pace and moved ahead.

Old Madam Xie and the other womenfolk had already been driven into an open space to rest. As soon as they sat, Xie Wen Jie and his men arrived and dropped into positions in front of them—appearing to rest, but each man angled outward, watching a different direction.

Old Madam Xie’s heart sank as she understood.

She turned her head slightly and murmured to Madam Zhou, low enough that only she could hear. “Rest, but don’t loosen your grip on our things. Watch Rui Ge Er.”

Madam Zhou stiffened, then hurried to pass the warning down the line.

Xie Yu Chuan remained with Xie Wu Ying and the other adult men. Unlike Xie Wen Jie’s quick movement, they didn’t look hurried at all. They pretended to peer around with tired curiosity while slowly shifting positions.

Above them, a few pigeons flew across the darkening sky, circling briefly before vanishing.

Xie Yu Chuan glanced up once, then continued toward his family’s resting place.

He didn’t sit.

The cangue weighed on his shoulders as he leaned against a wall and closed his eyes.

He listened.

Somewhere not far off, a dog barked.

Then another.

Bird calls answered, spaced in a way that wasn’t quite natural.

The tightness between his brows eased slowly as he followed the rhythm.

Someone had set a stage.

And it wasn’t just one troupe.

So many people wanted the Xie family’s lives.

They must be worth a fortune.

Xie Yu Chuan’s mind was unusually calm, perhaps because Tu Hua’s voice had been with him the entire way—an invisible presence in his ear, steady and oddly comforting.

One thought rose, simple and undeniable.

At ease.

Since returning from the northwest, only a month or two had passed, yet it felt like half a lifetime. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this kind of grounded certainty.

Footsteps approached—measured, closing in.

Then, abruptly, they stopped.

As if something had gone wrong.

As if something had changed.

Xie Yu Chuan’s frown eased again.

He opened his eyes and looked toward where the footsteps retreated.

They’d shadowed them this long and still didn’t dare strike?

He almost laughed.

What was there to fear? The Xie family’s divine seat had already been handed over. Whatever protection remained, it wasn’t the kind you could point to and touch.

Xie Wu Ying also looked baffled. He turned slightly. “Sixth Brother… did they back off again?”

“Yes,” Xie Yu Chuan said.

He tilted his head, signaling the others to relax. If they had withdrawn, they likely wouldn’t charge back immediately.

Still, Xie Yu Chuan stayed standing.

Song Jiang Town was crowded—perfect for someone to act and then vanish. It was riskier than the wild, but here, the exiled prisoners were tightly constrained.

In the wild?

The Xie family had grown up training in the wild.

Xie Yu Chuan couldn’t figure out why the threat had suddenly retreated.

Then Tu Hua’s voice came again.

And this time, it didn’t sound the same.

Earlier, her voice had always been clear—close, crisp, as if spoken directly into his ear.

Now it sounded distant, like it was echoing from a wide, unfamiliar space.

And around her voice—

Noise.

Fine, layered noise he hadn’t noticed before because his attention had been split.

But now it was impossible to miss.

A man’s voice.

Not his imagination. Not a trick of wind.

A young man.

“You’ve got so much it might fall out,” the stranger said, warm and polite. “I can bring you another cart. Want me to push this up to the checkout area for you?”

Xie Yu Chuan went rigid.

It felt like ice ran through his blood.

The Household God… had someone beside her.

He had always believed his communion with the Xie family’s Household God was singular. Private. Something the world couldn’t reach into.

He opened his mouth.

He wanted to ask.

Who is he?

Where are you?

What is he to you?

But the words caught.

How could a mortal question a deity?

His thoughts tangled, sharp with something he refused to name.

On the other side, Tu Hua was still waiting for the clerk to return. She’d already chosen a stack of filling, portable foods—easy to carry, easy to eat.

Music played through the supermarket speakers, cheerful and oblivious.

A family passed nearby, laughing. Their kid sat in the cart, bright-eyed and chubby-cheeked, looking like the kind of child who never met a stranger.

As they rolled past Tu Hua, the kid tossed a small bag of candy at her like it was a gift.

Tu Hua caught it quickly. The child’s mother turned, startled, and hurried over, embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “He’s gotten used to throwing things.”

Tu Hua laughed and handed the candy back to the kid. “It’s fine. Catching something a kid gives you is good luck.”

The mother still looked mortified, but Tu Hua waved it off with a smile.

Then she glanced at her phone.

The screen flashed—wild, frantic.

Her stomach dropped.

Something was wrong on Xie Yu Chuan’s side.

She unlocked her phone and sent a voice message fast, forcing her tone steady.

“Did something happen over there? What do you need me to do? If you can’t explain, answer briefly.”

Right then, the store clerk returned with another cart. He noticed several items Tu Hua had set on the floor by the shelves and, while she spoke, picked them up and placed them into the cart.

“I put these into the cart for you,” he said.

Tu Hua gave him a quick thumbs-up. “Thank you.”

The kid nearby saw the items moved and babbled happily, kicking his legs like he was celebrating a victory.

On the road in Song Jiang Town, Xie Yu Chuan’s brows pulled tighter.

It wasn’t just a man’s voice beside the Household God.

There was a child, too.

And for reasons he couldn’t explain, that knowledge sat in his chest like a stone.