The firelight suddenly flickered.
Shadows on the cave wall stretched long and thin, then snapped back, as if an invisible hand had toyed with the flame.
Before Minnow could react, the dagger in his hand was snatched away.
The movement was so fast he barely saw it.
"Ah—!"
He cried out and stumbled backward on instinct. His heel skidded across loose gravel, and he nearly fell.
The torchlight swayed wildly, casting the cave in pulses of brightness and shadow.
Across from them, the old woodcutter slowly raised his head.
His face, carved with deep furrows, looked especially sinister under the firelight. The skin hung like weathered leather, every wrinkle packed with grime and sweat.
He narrowed his eyes.
The blade caught the firelight and flashed with a sharp white glare—thin as lightning.
The light struck straight into his eyes.
He squinted reflexively.
The dagger, however, was not in his hand.
It was held by someone else.
The fire wavered.
A young figure stood there.
Wei.
The boy who usually wore a sunlit smile now stood before the old woodcutter with the dagger in his grip.
His movements were casual—almost friendly.
He even lifted a hand and patted the old man lightly on the shoulder, like greeting an acquaintance.
"Sir," he said gently.
The old woodcutter froze.
For a moment, his face went blank with confusion, as if his mind had simply failed to catch up.
What had just happened?
When had the dagger ended up in this boy's hand?
Then—
His body suddenly locked rigid.
A tearing pain exploded through his thigh.
Thuck.
The sound was soft.
But unmistakable.
The dagger had been driven straight into his leg.
Half the blade disappeared into flesh.
Blood welled out instantly, running down his trouser leg and dripping onto the stone floor—dark blossoms spreading one drop at a time.
The old woodcutter stood frozen where he was.
A strangled gasp escaped his throat.
Slowly, he raised his head and looked at the boy before him.
Wei's face still carried that warm smile.
His eyes curved gently, like those of a pleasant, well-mannered child.
But the hand gripping the dagger was terrifyingly steady.
At that moment, a ridiculous thought crept into the old woodcutter's mind.
It felt less like he had encountered a boy—
and more like he had come face to face with a demon wearing human skin.
"Ah—!"
Only now did the pain truly register. The old man bent forward with a groan.
Wei had made only a simple motion.
Yet that single stab had nearly drained every scrap of strength he had gathered over the past few days.
His chest rose and fell faintly.
His knuckles had gone white from the strain.
He knew perfectly well—
if the old woodcutter fought back now, a single punch would be enough to knock him down.
His body had long been hollowed out by internal injuries.
His hand trembled badly.
But his face never changed.
The smile remained warm.
There was even a hint of shy politeness in it.
Slowly, he twisted the dagger inside the wound—just a little—then pulled it free.
The old woodcutter's face turned instantly pale.
Wei spoke softly.
"Can we talk properly now?"
The air fell silent for a moment.
Only the sound of blood dripping onto stone remained.
Drip.
Drip.
The old woodcutter groaned and nearly collapsed to his knees.
Wei, however, no longer had the strength to hold the dagger.
He glanced at Minnow.
Just a look.
The meaning passed instantly between the two boys.
Minnow understood the urgency at once and hurried to take the dagger.
But the moment he grasped it, his expression changed.
Something slick touched his palm.
Warm.
Sticky.
Blood.
He looked down.
His entire hand was already stained red.
Minnow's lips twitched, and he nearly vomited up his dinner.
Wei saw the look on his face and almost laughed.
But he stopped himself immediately.
His gaze returned to the old woodcutter's deeply lined face.
The old man shifted slightly.
As if he might still try to resist.
Wei's eyes instantly turned cold.
He lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of the old man's hair, and yanked hard.
"Ah—!"
The old woodcutter's head was jerked violently around.
Wei spoke in a low voice.
"Talk."
"Who are you really?"
"What's down there?"
He lifted his chin, signaling Minnow to bring the dagger closer.
The blade hovered beside the old man's face.
Blood still dripped from its edge.
Wei pressed it lower, sliding the blade across the side of the man's neck—right over the great artery.
His voice remained soft.
"Say one wrong word…"
"I'll stab you again."
The old woodcutter's gaze fell once more on Wei's face.
The smile was still warm.
Yet a chill crept up his spine.
The warmer the boy smiled—
the more terrified he felt.
His body went limp.
"L–Little lord…"
"I'm just…"
Before he could finish—
Wei suddenly grabbed Minnow's wrist and shoved the knife forward.
The tip nearly plunged into flesh again.
That was the final straw.
"I'll talk!"
"I'll tell the truth!"
His voice cracked apart.
"There's a gang of ruthless men hiding down there!"
Wei narrowed his eyes.
"Ruthless men?"
"Be specific."
The old woodcutter gasped for breath, his voice shaking.
"We… we really are villagers…"
"We just came up here to steal a few things…"
"But we found out that coffin—that coffin is actually the entrance to their secret passage…"
He swallowed hard.
"They're… those people…"
"They say they're recruiting men…"
"To overthrow the court…"
"Anyone who helps them bring in recruits gets paid—and can even become an official…"
When he finished, the old woodcutter sagged as if the strength had been drained from his bones.
The firelight flickered softly.
The cave fell into dead silence.
Wei said nothing.
His eyes narrowed slightly as his mind raced.
Just then—
Minnow suddenly sucked in a sharp breath.
"This is bad!"
"We have to leave—now!"
Wei understood instantly.
Zhang San and Li Si had already been discovered.
If the men below had begun searching—
two strangers like them would never escape.
"Go," Wei whispered.
They slipped quickly along the narrow stone corridor.
The passage twisted tightly, its walls rough and jagged.
The torchlight trembled as they moved.
They passed a stone chamber.
Wei cast a quick glance inside.
Shelves stacked with scrolls and paintings lined the walls.
On the ground lay neatly folded suits of armor.
In the corner were piles of flags.
Not military banners, but dragon banners.
Across the wall, several lines of characters had been written in blood-red paint.
The torchlight swept over them.
The strokes looked fresh.
Restore the rightful dynasty.
Return our rivers and mountains.
Wei's pupils shrank slightly.
There was no need to ask further.
These people were remnants of the fallen Southern Song court.
The two boys quickened their pace.
The cave exit lay just ahead.
But just as they were about to reach it—
A flash of firelight appeared outside the entrance.
Someone was there.
Wei's face changed instantly.
He blew out the torch.
Whoosh—
Darkness swallowed the cave at once.
The air seemed to turn colder.
"Back," Wei whispered.
They had barely turned around—
when footsteps sounded from another stone chamber.
More than one person.
Heavy boots echoed across the stone floor.
Closer.
Closer.
In the darkness, the old woodcutter lowered his head.
His shoulders trembled slightly.
At the corner of his mouth, a strange smile slowly formed.
The next instant—
He lunged forward.
And shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Here!"
"It's them!"
"General! I tricked them in here!"
His voice thundered through the cave like a boulder crashing into still water.
Wei's heart sank.
In the darkness, the distant footsteps suddenly stopped.
Then—
A cold voice gave a command.
"Seize them."
"Let not a single one escape."