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墨書 Inktalez
I watched his youthful strokes, my eyes growing warm as my fingertips continued to work, carefully stitching the charcoal drawing onto a piece of clean old cloth.
As the needle wove in and out, I struggled to push the deep-rooted fear down into the depths of my heart.
Life had to go on; for his sake, I needed to grow stronger.
The next day, I took the embroidered cloth and a few old pieces to the market.
The air was filled with the sounds of bustling voices and vendors calling out, a familiar warmth enveloping me.
Just as I cautiously unfolded the cloth at one stall, a commotion in the distance caught my attention.
Several salt officers in blue uniforms were roughly inspecting the goods of passing pedestrians.
Their gazes were sharp as hawks, sweeping over every vendor with an arrogant tone.
I instinctively tightened my grip on the cloth, my heart beginning to race.
Salt inspections were extensive and could lead to serious trouble with just a small misstep.
One of the officers approached me, his eyes fierce and his tone unfriendly as he barked, "You! Stop! What do you have in your hands? Unfold it!"
My breath caught in my throat, and just as I was about to respond, I caught a glimpse of a man selling pancakes nearby, seemingly shifting forward without intent.
His sturdy frame conveniently blocked part of the officer's line of sight, and at that moment, a passing porter suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground, spilling his load everywhere.
Instantly, chaos erupted as onlookers began to murmur complaints.
The officer was drawn away by the fallen porter, cursing as he walked over to investigate.
In the midst of the chaos, I quickly tucked away my embroidery and blended into the crowd, hastily leaving the market.
It wasn't until I had walked quite a distance that I dared to look back. I saw the man selling pancakes and the fallen porter, both watching me leave with an inscrutable expression.
I recognized the copper plates hanging from their waists; they were distinctive markers of Xiao Yuan's former subordinates.
As I reached my doorstep, my neighbor Old Li happened to come out carrying a pot of pickled vegetables.
She was a warm-hearted old woman, and upon seeing me return, her face broke into a smile filled with wrinkles.
“Su Youwei, you’re back? Here, try some freshly pickled vegetables,” she said, shoving the pot into my hands and lowering her voice.
“Things have been tense lately. The salt inspectors are checking everyone, claiming they’re looking for outsiders... You need to be careful,” she added, nodding towards The Liu Manor.
My heart sank. The Liu Family had indeed begun their search.
They wouldn’t let me go easily, nor would they spare Xiao Yan.
Night fell like a massive curtain, and inside the house, only the faint light of an oil lamp illuminated the room.
Xiao Yan was already fast asleep, curled up under the covers like a small bundle.
I sat by the window, flipping through the old embroidery samples that I hadn’t managed to sell yet. Some bore the patterns of The Liu Manor, while others featured rabbits I had embroidered for Liu Chu.
These items could potentially expose our identities.
As I hesitated on how to deal with them, a faint rustling sound—almost imperceptible—drifted in from outside the window.
Something was gently scraping against the wall.
I suddenly looked up and, through the gap in the window paper, I vaguely saw a blurred shadow.
The shadow remained still, like a venomous snake lying in wait in the darkness, exuding a suffocating malice.
It was the lookout from the Liu Manor!
They had actually found their way here!
Cold sweat instantly soaked my back, and the old embroidery patterns in my hands felt like a hot potato.
I hesitated no longer. I grabbed the oil lamp and piled the embroidery patterns on the ground.
The flame licked at the fabric, and the orange-red light danced in the darkness, quickly consuming the patterns.
The smell of burning filled the air, searing my taut nerves.
Those old items that carried past pain and humiliation turned to ashes in the firelight.
Meanwhile, the shadow outside remained fixed in place, unmoving, like a cold gaze piercing through the window paper, staring intently at me.
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