Heaven's Silence

Chapter 61 – Verify

Under the intimidating presence of Wen Chaoshen, the group of thugs eventually fled in a panic.

While doing all this, Wen Chaoshen remained calm as if nothing had happened. Cheng Feng, who stood silently by, was shocked, while A Shui looked at Wen Chaoshen with a rare hint of admiration in her eyes.

Of course, besides that, she was also a bit curious.

Curious about how Wen Chaoshen, someone who had never practiced martial arts, suddenly wielded a knife with such speed and precision.

After the thugs left, Wen Chaoshen went to a nearby bucket, washed the blood off the blade, wiped it clean on his clothes, and put it away.

After he finished, Cheng Feng's somewhat trembling voice came from the side:

"You shouldn't have interfered in my matters."

"That person wasn't joking earlier. These people suddenly came after me, surely under the orders of some local bully in the Martial World. Otherwise, they wouldn't dare to go this far."

"These bullies are entangled with the authorities. Your momentary bravado might bring endless trouble in the future."

Wen Chaoshen glanced at him and said:

"Do you think I saved you just for a moment of bravado?"

Cheng Feng was taken aback.

Wen Chaoshen pointed at the small box in Cheng Feng's hand and said:

"The girl who gave you this box also braved the snow to bring me a bowl of braised pork during the New Year."

"She's such a good person. If you don't accept her gift, she'll be heartbroken."

Cheng Feng looked down at the box in his hand, feeling a mix of emotions.

"Why did you help her that day?" Wen Chaoshen asked again.

"Such a young girl, bullied by so many people, and everyone present just wanted to see her make a fool of herself. No one spoke up for her. How pitiful."

"I was drunk, my head wasn't clear, and I didn't know better, so I helped her out."

Cheng Feng said, throwing away the kitchen knife and slowly opening the box. Inside was a sachet sewn by Si Xiaohong, with a pattern of a person's back writing poetry on the wall of the Mandarin Duck Tower.

The person's back was straight, their demeanor wild, and the blurry stitches were filled with youthful spirit.

Gazing at the picture, Cheng Feng was stunned for a long time.

Wen Chaoshen sat on a wooden bench in his courtyard, his gaze shifting slightly.

"Is it really that simple?"

Cheng Feng stared at the sachet, lost in thought:

"I used to be like that too, committing a crime far away, with an official wanting to take my head, and no one speaking up for me."

"I asked them if I did something wrong, if it was my fault. So many people were there, but no one answered me, no one dared to."

"Later, a noble from the academy stepped in to save me and sent me back home."

A Shui, who had been silent for a long time, caught one word sharply and looked up:

"Academy?"

"You mean Langan Pavilion?"

"Wait... are you the student expelled from Langan Pavilion?"

Cheng Feng seemed to realize he had misspoken and immediately turned his head aside.

"Miss, you're joking. There are so many academies in the world. How could a poor student like me, with no talent or skill, have the qualifications to enter Langan Pavilion?"

A Shui and Wen Chaoshen exchanged a glance. The latter's heart stirred, and though he didn't know the specifics, he still smiled and said:

"It seems you are."

Cheng Feng sincerely said to them:

To read the uncut version, go to [p𝘢wread.com].

"You really have the wrong person."

Wen Chaoshen looked him in the eye:

"Cheng Feng, you know, people have a trait: the more they try to hide something, the more it proves something."

Cheng Feng's heart tightened, and he blurted out:

"Fine, I am."

Wen Chaoshen nodded, came up to him, and patted his shoulder:

"You admitted it yourself, no backing out later."

Cheng Feng: "?"

His small eyes were filled with a big question mark, as if he wanted to explain further, but Wen Chaoshen had already changed the subject:

"By the way, Cheng Feng, I've had a question on my mind these past few days, related to you and something else. Could you help me with it?"

Faced with Wen Chaoshen's inquiry, Cheng Feng hesitated for a moment, then nodded:

"Ask away. If I know, I'll do my best to tell you."

Wen Chaoshen nodded, took out a few letters, laid them out in front of Cheng Feng, and said:

"Look, are these handwriting familiar?"

As he spoke, Wen Chaoshen's gaze never left Cheng Feng's face. He believed there were things Cheng Feng would never easily disclose, so he needed to judge and obtain the answers he wanted through more subtle means.

Wen Chaoshen was very skilled at this because his eyes were inherently different.

A Shui, much like Wen Chaoshen, kept her attention on Cheng Feng. The latter looked at the letters spread out by Wen Chaoshen, his expression heavy, not daring to breathe. After a short pause, he shook his head and said:

"I don't recognize this handwriting."

Wen Chaoshen hooked an arm around his shoulder.

"Hey, that's not very interesting."

"I brought you something and helped you out of trouble. Doesn't that make me your benefactor?"

"Or are you just timid and need a couple of bottles of wine before you dare to speak the truth?"

"If that's the case, I'll go buy some wine right now."

Cheng Feng's expression was uncertain. After a long time, he released his clenched fingers, sighed, and said:

"...Sorry, I promised that noble I wouldn't let the secret leave the academy."

"At worst, I'll give you my life. Later, I'll go find the Seventh Master myself and settle today's score. How about that?"

Wen Chaoshen shook his head.

"What would I want your life for?"

"If you can't say, I won't force you. Cheng Feng, you're a master of calligraphy. I just want to confirm one thing: the handwriting on these letters... wasn't written by soldiers, was it?"

Cheng Feng thought carefully. This question didn't seem to touch the core directly, and given that Wen Chaoshen had indeed helped him a lot today and even gotten into trouble for it, he couldn't refuse any longer and said:

"No."

"Most soldiers' handwriting carries a certain murderous and violent aura, and the strokes are not very connected. Even though the Qi Kingdom values literature and respects Confucianism, the soldiers fighting at the border don't have the time or mood to hone their calligraphy. The handwriting on these letters is connected, all practiced with the 'Eight Principles of Yong,' clearly not written by ordinary soldiers."

As he spoke, his eyes seemed to dodge as he said to Wen Chaoshen and A Shui:

"These letters... where did you get them?"

Wen Chaoshen, having obtained the answer he wanted, began to collect the letters, putting them back in their original places, and calmly replied:

"From some parents who haven't seen their children who went to the army for years... even decades."

"These letters, sent back from the border, greet the parents in the 'child's' voice, one letter a year."

"A few strokes, filled with longing in the letters."

As he spoke, he thought of Mi Fang and actually laughed, but the smile on his face was full of irony.

As for A Shui beside him, her gaze had already turned as cold as ice.

...