Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 989: Promise

The candles found were limited, so they were rationed primarily for use by Song Tianyou, Zhang Qianrui, and a few others.

The bodyguards, however, had to make do by squeezing into one room.

Due to the lack of electricity, Uncle Wu instructed the bodyguards to gather firewood to start a fire, boil some hot water for everyone to wash up and drink—just enough to get through the night.

Song Haoran, accustomed to adventure and roughing it in the wild, had no objections. As for Song Tianyou, he had endured hardships in the past and remained unbothered by the situation.

Song Ying also did not complain. Compared to the summer camps she attended as a child in rural villages, these conditions were far better. Of course, those camps were not meant to train her as a warrior but to teach basic self-defense and survival skills.

The most uncomfortable among them was likely Zhang Qianrui. After all, Zhang Lilanfang had not raised her descendants in the same austere manner as the Song family.

Even so, the young lady of the Zhang family did not utter a single word of complaint, which earned her Song Tianyou's admiration.

At this moment, Song Haoran had just stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. He had originally intended to invite Luo Qiu to shower with him as a way to foster camaraderie, but Luo Qiu politely declined with a smile.

What a pity, Song Haoran thought to himself.

As he walked while drying his hair, he accidentally bumped his head due to the lack of lighting. Though it didn’t hurt, the jolt caused him to momentarily lose his train of thought.In that brief daze, Song Haoran suddenly recalled the crawling shadow he and Luo Qiu had seen earlier, as mentioned by Song Bo. He knew himself well—having encountered many strange things during his explorations, he was not easily shaken.

But what about Luo Qiu?

Even more puzzling was the fact that he had instinctively accepted Luo Qiu’s composure as natural, without finding it strange. How could this be?

Song Haoran stood in the hallway, lost in thought, when a heavy hand suddenly clapped down on his shoulder from the darkness.

…

It was Uncle Wu, who, seeing Song Haoran standing alone, curiously patted his shoulder.

Song Haoran turned around to see Uncle Wu holding a candle and a thermos. "Oh, Uncle Wu. Do you need something?"

Clearly, the bold Song Haoran was not startled.

"Young master, I should be the one asking. What are you doing here alone?" Uncle Wu frowned.

Song Haoran blinked. "Nothing, just lost in thought… Wait, what was I thinking about?"

He genuinely couldn’t recall what had been on his mind. Though he tried to focus, his thoughts remained elusive.

Uncle Wu shook his head in exasperation. "I’m delivering hot water to the master. Don’t overthink it."

"Go ahead." Song Haoran nodded.

As Uncle Wu left, Song Haoran muttered to himself, "What was I thinking about? Why can’t I remember?"

Instead of returning to his room, he climbed onto the roof and sat cross-legged, fully extending his senses.

In his mind, the entire layout of the Song family ancestral home began to take shape, like a three-dimensional blueprint of the structure.

…

In another room, a similar three-dimensional blueprint floated above the table before Luo Qiu.

He circled the table, examining the projection. Occasionally, he extended a hand to brush over certain areas before stepping out of the room.

As he walked through the house, several Song family bodyguards on patrol passed him by, entirely unaware of his presence. Luo Qiu seemed to carry an aura of nonexistence, blending seamlessly into his surroundings.

Eventually, Luo Qiu arrived at the back courtyard of the ancestral home.

Though called a backyard, it was vast, complete with artificial hills, streams, and bridges. Despite being long neglected, remnants of its former grandeur were still evident.

Luo Qiu strolled leisurely until he stopped before an ancient well. He glanced around and noticed a shadow darting among the trees, moving like a mischievous monkey.

Suddenly, the sound of something rushing through the grass came from behind.

Luo Qiu turned calmly to see the crawling figure that had flashed by earlier.

The figure pressed its arms to the ground, elbows raised like the front limbs of a spider. Its clothes were tattered, its hair disheveled, and its face dirty. Its eyes shone with untamed ferocity, and a guttural growl emanated from its throat.

When Luo Qiu turned to face it, the creature froze, baring its teeth warily.

"You’ve truly embraced the role of a beast," Luo Qiu said, looking down at the figure.

The creature didn’t respond, growling more fiercely instead.

"We’ve met before. Do you remember?" Luo Qiu crouched and extended a finger to gently touch the figure’s forehead. "Think."

As Luo Qiu spoke, the figure’s savage expression gradually softened. Without the ferocity, its face appeared less terrifying. If cleaned up, it might even reveal a delicate countenance.

It was Zhan’er, the apprentice of the Taoist Yang Taizi.

"You… are…"

Zhan’er’s eyes regained clarity for a moment before he fell unconscious. As he collapsed, a faint golden glow emerged from an unusual mark on his back, resembling a Taoist talisman.

Luo Qiu reached out to touch the mark when a low, trembling voice interrupted him from the direction of the well.

"Stop! Don’t touch him!"

Luo Qiu stood and turned toward the voice.

"You reckless practitioners," the voice continued weakly. "Have you abandoned the heavens, the earth, and the human heart?"

Luo Qiu looked in the direction of the ancient well and replied casually, "Shouldn’t you be resting, Mr. Mo Mo?"