Chapter 31
Chapter 31: Life and Death
Life and death. Parting and loss.
Jiang Jiang used to think those words belonged to someplace far away, someplace that didn’t touch her.
But standing at the Li family’s gate, watching Madam Wang and Li Er Shan break apart, her mind went blank. Her legs gave out and she sank onto the threshold as if her bones had melted.
So death could arrive this easily.
In her memory, Li Mang had been a capable escort guard who loved wine and meat. Every time he returned from an escort run, he’d buy two jin of good beef and call Jiang Ping over. One man spoke with ink, the other with fists, yet somehow they understood each other perfectly. They’d eat, drink, and talk until the sun went down—Li Mang bragging about roads and sights, Jiang Ping trading stories and wit.
Li Mang envied Jiang Ping’s learning—how he seemed to know everything under the heavens. Jiang Ping envied Li Mang’s strength—how he could travel ten thousand miles and see mountains and rivers with his own eyes.
And Li Da Shan…
Li Da Shan had always been quiet. At home, he either worked or trained. That was his whole world. Li Er Shan used to joke that his brother was a martial fanatic, and Jiang Jiang had once even suggested he take the military provincial graduate exam.
Li Da Shan had only shaken his head.
His dream wasn’t glory. It was simpler than that.
He wanted to become the number one escort guard of the Sheng Wei Escort Bureau.
And now those two living, breathing people in her memory were… dead?
“We’ve delivered the belongings,” the lead constable said, voice low and flat. “Later, come to the yamen to claim the bodies.”
There was no cruelty in his tone. Just routine. Scenes like this were probably as ordinary to him as breathing.
In this era, which day passed without someone dying?
“What happened? What’s going on?” The crying had drawn the neighbors. Jiang Ping strode into the courtyard first, brows knotted.
Mu Wan Ling hurried to Jiang Jiang and helped her up.
“Teacher Jiang.” The lead constable recognized him, and his tone softened slightly. “There was an accident involving the Sheng Wei Escort Bureau. We’re here to notify the family.”
Jiang Ping’s face drained. He swayed, then forced himself steady. “An accident? Then Brother Li Mang…”
“Everyone from the escort bureau died,” the constable said. His eyes flicked away for a moment, as if he’d seen something he didn’t want to remember. “No survivors.”
He clasped his fists at Jiang Ping. “We still have another household to notify. We’ll take our leave.”
With a wave, he led his men away.
The neighbors crowded at the gate, stunned into silence. No one smiled anymore.
Li Mang. Li Da Shan.
Gone.
Jiang Ping’s jaw tightened. “Come. I’ll go with you to the yamen.”
He looked at Mu Wan Ling, then at Li Er Shan. “Er Shan, you come with me. Wan Ling, stay and keep your sister-in-law company.”
Mu Wan Ling nodded and went to Madam Wang, who was still sobbing like her heart had been ripped out. Madam Wang was soft by nature, easily shaken. Now, clinging to Mu Wan Ling, she cried even harder, as if she’d finally found something solid to hold onto.
Around them, people drifted away in helpless sympathy, already thinking about how much condolence money to prepare for the funeral.
In the end, Jiang Ping accompanied Li Er Shan to the yamen and brought back the bodies.
Two forms under white cloth, the fabric stained dark with blood.
Jiang Jiang never saw their faces. The neighbors had already bought coffins and placed the bodies inside.
White cloth went up at the Li family’s gate.
Mourning settled over Willow Spring Lane like ash.
Jiang Jiang helped where she could. Li Er Shan had changed into mourning clothes, tear tracks still carved down his cheeks.
“Brother Er Shan… please accept my condolences,” Jiang Jiang said, awkwardly patting his back.
Li Er Shan’s hands clenched until his knuckles whitened. “My dad. My brother. They… died too horribly.”
When they claimed the bodies, even the usually steady Teacher Jiang had cursed out loud at the sight.
“Those bandits. Those animals!”
Li Er Shan’s voice cracked. His eyes turned frighteningly red. “Seventeen escort guards. All dead. And it wasn’t quick.”
Everyone already knew who had done it.
The Blood Tiger Ridge bandits, three hundred li outside the capital.
Blood Tiger Ridge.
That name hit Jiang Jiang like a stone.
Because she remembered it from the novel’s original plot.
Later in the story, Chu Yun Yue’s business would spread across Qing Yun Kingdom. One of her shipments would be robbed on the road to the capital—by Blood Tiger Ridge.
Chu Yun Yue would go up the mountain herself to negotiate, only to discover that those vicious bandits had another side.
They’d once been ordinary commoners of Qing Yun Kingdom. Forced from their homes. Driven into the mountains. They’d become outlaws just to keep the old and young alive.
Chu Yun Yue would pity them.
Then Liu Cheng An would arrive under orders, leading troops to attack Blood Tiger Ridge.
With Chu Yun Yue mediating, Liu Cheng An would accept their surrender. The chief and second chief would even become Chu Yun Yue’s men, fiercely loyal. The stronghold’s families would regain lawful status.
A perfect story, on paper.
“If we had any other way to live, who would choose to become outlaws?” the chief had said to Chu Yun Yue in that original plot.
Maybe it was true. Maybe they had once been desperate.
But before they met Chu Yun Yue, Blood Tiger Ridge had still been a nest of bandits who did every evil.
Even if they stole from the rich, it couldn’t erase the slaughtered innocents.
Those escort guards. The caravan attendants. Most of them were just ordinary people grinding themselves down to survive.
Jiang Jiang stood there, throat tight, feelings twisting into something sour.
This was a novel world. The plot served the leads.
So the Sheng Wei Escort Bureau were just background characters—barely a line in the bandits’ “achievements.” So minor that no one would remember them, and the story would move on without blinking.
In places the readers would never look, people died quietly every day.