Chapter 116
Chapter 116
Knock, knock, knock.
Someone was at the door.
Xu Wenlie’s voice came from the other side. “Are you awake?”
Wen Lianfeng glanced at Qingshui, then got up to open the door.
Xu Wenlie stood outside, the scar across her face especially stark in the dim light of the corridor.
“We need more hands to reinforce the traps around the perimeter.” Xu Wenlie looked past Wen Lianfeng at Qingshui, who was sitting on the bed. “Can you… sharpen wood?”
Qingshui glanced down at her ankle. The swelling had gone down somewhat, but it still hurt. Strenuous activity was definitely out of the question, but if she could work sitting down…
“I can,” she said.
The group followed Xu Wenlie outside. For once, sunlight filtered through a break in the clouds, spilling across the open ground enclosed by the high walls.
The air smelled of damp earth, mingled with the faint scent of blood.
Xu Wenlie led Qingshui to a corner near the wall.
Several crude wooden stools had been set up there beside a huge pile of lumber. The pieces came in all lengths and thicknesses, salvaged from the abandoned buildings nearby. Several women sat on the stools with knives in hand, whittling away without pause.
They were sharpening the wood.
One by one, the pieces were turned into stakes with viciously pointed tips or crude but sharp wooden arrows.
The stakes would be driven into the trenches outside the compound walls, forming a barrier that could keep them alive.
“Sit here.” Xu Wenlie pointed to an empty stool.
Qingshui sat down.
Beside her, Ye Que was sharpening a piece of wood as thick as an arm. Her movements were practiced, the blade held steadily against the surface as thin curls of wood peeled away layer by layer and fell to the ground.
Without looking up, she gave Qingshui a nod in greeting.
An unfamiliar woman sat on Ye Que’s other side. Judging by their behavior, the two seemed to be on good terms.
The woman was around forty, with an unremarkable face and hair casually tied behind her head. She worked more slowly than Ye Que, but no less diligently. Every so often, she would look around before lowering her head and continuing.
Ye Que pulled over a battered box full of tools, rummaged through it, and handed Qingshui a short knife. The blade was spotted with rust, but its edge was still reasonably sharp.
“Know how to do this?”
Qingshui took the knife and tested its weight.
“Yes.”
Xu Wenlie said nothing more. She turned and left with Wen Lianfeng and Chu Jingchu, heading out to reinforce the traps beyond the compound.
The courtyard fell quiet.
Sunlight shone down lazily. An occasional breeze carried a faint, indistinct sound from somewhere in the distance.
Qingshui lowered her gaze to the wood in her hand. She tested the knife against it, found the right angle, and began to whittle.
She worked with complete focus. The repetitive, mechanical motion allowed her thoughts to temporarily fall silent. She didn’t need to think about anything. All she had to do was cut.
Wood shavings curled away from the blade and landed by her feet, gradually accumulating into a pile.
Ye Que remained silent beside her, the sound of her knife moving in rhythm with Qingshui’s. The unfamiliar woman occasionally paused to flex her wrist, then resumed working.
The three of them sat there, each absorbed in her own work, without exchanging a word.
After several hours, Qingshui stopped to stretch her fingers. Gripping the knife for so long had left the web between her thumb and forefinger stiff. She rolled her wrist, her gaze casually drifting to the side just as the unfamiliar woman looked up.
Their eyes met.
The woman’s gaze was mild, her expression giving nothing away. But Qingshui noticed that she studied her face longer than any of the other strangers had.
Then the woman lowered her head and went back to work.
Qingshui said nothing. She had seen that kind of look many times before.
The woman was assessing her.
But why?
Qingshui hadn’t shown anything unusual. She was merely sitting there, sharpening wood.
She recalled the figure who had watched her from the shadows of the corridor last night, as well as the meaningful look the muscular Meng Rui had given her before leaving.
The undercurrents in this place were far more complicated than they appeared on the surface.
Without looking up, Qingshui continued to whittle, one cut after another. The steady rhythm emptied her mind instead.
Some time later, Ye Que suddenly spoke. “You’re a very good shot.”
Qingshui didn’t deny it. “I’m all right.”
Ye Que was silent for a few seconds before continuing, “Meng Rui wants you to join them.”
She said it so bluntly that even the unfamiliar woman looked up and glanced at her.
Ye Que ignored the woman and kept working, as though unaware of what she had just said.
Qingshui didn’t look up either. “And?”
“…”
“Don’t,” Ye Que said.
Qingshui finally raised her head and looked at her.
Ye Que kept her gaze lowered, her young face devoid of expression.
“It’s better to stay neutral…”
Qingshui murmured an acknowledgment, indicating that she understood. After finishing the piece in her hands, she picked up another.
An unknown amount of time passed before Xu Wenlie returned.
She stood at the courtyard entrance, watching the women bent over their work, and the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.
“Take a break. We have enough.”
Ye Que stopped and rolled her shoulders.
The unfamiliar woman also set down her knife and shook out her aching wrist.
Qingshui put down her knife and looked up.
The sun was already sinking westward, about to disappear behind the compound wall. A large pile of sharpened stakes and wooden arrows lay on the ground.
Ye Que rose and brushed the wood shavings from her clothes. She glanced at Qingshui, then followed Xu Wenlie away.
The unfamiliar woman was the last to stand. As she passed Qingshui, she suddenly paused.
“My name is Lin Guiyun,” she said in the same slightly hoarse voice.
“Qingshui.”
Then the woman disappeared through the courtyard entrance, leaving Qingshui there alone.