As the hours went by the crowd slowly dispersed. The Zhao family carried the bodies away for preparation and burial. Others returned to their homes, still talking in hushed, frightened voices about the deaths and the fire.
Liu Wei lingered. He spoke to a few villagers. Offered condolences to the Zhao family. Played the part of concerned neighbor.
Finally, he started walking back toward his home. Alone.
Yang waited until Liu Wei was far enough from the gathered villagers. Far enough that no one would hear or see.
Then Yang moved.
His enhanced speed made him a blur in the darkness. He closed the distance in seconds. His hand clamped over Liu Wei's mouth to prevent screaming. His other arm wrapped around the man's body and lifted him effortlessly.
Yang ran into the forest. Liu Wei struggled and kicked, but it was like an infant fighting an adult. Completely ineffective against Yang's supernatural strength.
Yang went deep. Far beyond where sounds would carry to the village. Past the familiar paths into the true wilderness where only beasts dwelled.
Finally, Yang stopped in a small clearing lit by moonlight filtering through the canopy. He released Liu Wei and stepped back.
Liu Wei stumbled and fell to his knees. He gasped for air. Looked around wildly. When his eyes adjusted to the moonlight and he saw where he was, panic set in.
"Please!" Liu Wei's voice came out as a desperate rasp. "I have money! Not much, but I'll give you everything! Just let me go!"
Yang said nothing. He simply stood there. Watching.
Liu Wei scrambled to his feet. He tried to run. Yang moved faster and grabbed his shoulder. The grip was like iron. Inescapable. Yang pulled Liu Wei back to the center of the clearing.
"Please! I don't even know you! What do you want?"
"Hello, Uncle Liu Wei," Yang said softly.
Liu Wei froze. He stared at Yang's face in the moonlight. Squinting. Trying to see features obscured by years of growth and forest living.
"Who... who are you? How do you know my name?"
Yang stepped closer. Let the moonlight fall fully on his face.
"I'm Yang," he said in a voice that was almost childish. Almost innocent. "Don't you recognize me, Uncle?"
The color drained from Liu Wei's face. His mouth opened and closed. No sound came out.
"Yang?" he finally whispered. "No. No, it's impossible. You should have died."
"But I didn't."
"How..." Liu Wei's voice shook. "How can you survive? It's been more than four years. How can a child survive alone in this forest?"
Yang tilted his head. "Grandpa taught me many things before you killed him. How to find food. How to make shelter. How to survive, even alone."
"I... I didn't..." Liu Wei backed away. "It wasn't my idea. Zhao Lei, it was him. Don't kill me we just thought..."
"You thought you'd kill him for helping those merchant. He had already helped them pass the mountain, killing him brought you no advantage, you just killed him because you could, becasue you were angry," Yang finished.
Liu Wei's face crumpled. "It was supposed to be quick! Chen was old. We thought... we thought it would be fast. Painless. We didn't mean for him to suffer."
"Didn't mean for him to suffer?" Yang's voice rose. "You stabbed Grandpa in the gut and left him to bleed out on the floor while I ran for my life!"
"I'm sorry!" Liu Wei fell to his knees. Tears streamed down his face. "I'm so sorry! We were desperate. The village has nothing. My family was starving. We could have gotten things off those merchants in exchange for showing them the path. I just... I just wanted to feed my children."
Yang stared at him. This pathetic man sobbing in the dirt. This was Grandpa's killer. The monster who'd haunted Yang's nightmares for years.
He looked small. Weak. Human.
"How did killing Grandpa feed your children?"
Liu Wei just sobbed.
"Your family will be fine," Yang said quietly. "Your sons are grown. They can provide."
"What?" Liu Wei looked up, confusion mixing with his fear.
"I watched them tonight. Helping fight the fire. They're strong. Capable. Your wife and daughters won't starve without you."
Understanding dawned in Liu Wei's eyes. "No. No, please. Yang, I'm sorry! I'll do anything! I'll make it right somehow! Please, I have grandchildren now. Please!"
"How can you make it right?" Yang asked. "Can you bring Grandpa back? Can you take back the years I survived alone in the forest?"
"I... I can't, but..."
"Then there's nothing left to discuss."
Liu Wei lunged forward. Grabbed Yang's legs. "Please! I made a mistake! One mistake! Don't kill me for one mistake! I'm not a bad man!"
"You killed a good man for no reason," Yang said. "That does make you bad enough."
"He was just an old forest hermit! One old man versus my entire family's survival! What would you have done?"
"Grandpa's death brought you nothing," Yang said. "He didn't take anything in payment to help those merchants, there is nothing his death would have brought you. Grandpa had nothing, He took me in when I had nothing. Raised me like his own. You knew that about him. Everyone in the village knew how kind and generous he was."
"Please you have to understand!" Liu Wei's voice became desperate, pleading. "You understand what it's like to be desperate! To need help! That's how I felt! Desperate!"
"There's a difference," Yang said coldly. "Grandpa's desperation made him help others. Yours made you kill."
"I'll leave the village!" Liu Wei cried. "I'll go far away! You'll never see me again! Just please, let me live!"
Yang pulled his spear from his back. The weapon he'd crafted over years of survival. Refined and balanced. Sharp enough to pierce beast hide.
Liu Wei saw the spear and scrambled backward. "No! No! Yang, please!"
"I'll give you something Grandpa didn't get," Yang said. "A choice. Stand and face me, or run and I'll hunt you like the beast you are."
"I'll fight! I'll fight!" Liu Wei pulled a knife from his belt. The same knife he'd used to kill Grandpa. His hands shook so badly the blade wavered in the moonlight.
Yang lowered his spear slightly. Giving Liu Wei an opening.
The older man saw it and lunged forward with a desperate cry. His knife thrust toward Yang's chest.
Yang moved. Not to dodge. He stepped into the attack. His spear came up in a smooth arc. The blade caught Liu Wei in the stomach. He felt as it pierced his bellyand heard the horrible squelching of flesh and the gushing wet blood.
The knife fell from Liu Wei's hand. He stared down at the spear protruding from his belly in shock. His hands grabbed the shaft weakly.
Yang wrenched the spear free. Blood poured from the wound. Liu Wei collapsed to his knees. Then fell sideways to the ground.
Yang stepped back and watched. Liu Wei's hands pressed against his stomach, trying futilely to stop the bleeding. Blood seeped between his fingers. Dark in the moonlight.
"Please," Liu Wei gasped. "Please, help me. I don't want to die."
"Neither did Grandpa," Yang said coldly.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Liu Wei's voice grew weaker. "Tell my family... tell them I'm sorry."
"I won't be telling them anything. They'll never know I was here."
Liu Wei coughed. Blood flecked his lips. "Yang... please... I'm begging you..."
"I wonder how long it took Grandpa to die," Yang said in a voice that sounded distant to his own ears. "He was old. But bleeding to death is a slow death. Did you stay to watch? Or did you leave him to die alone?"
"We left, we ran after you" Liu Wei whispered. "We were scared. We didn't mean... we thought it would be quick..."
"I don't know how long was it for Grandpa, but it definitely won't be quick for you."
Yang stood there and watched as Liu Wei bled out. The man kept begging. Kept apologizing. His voice grew weaker with each word. Each breath more labored than the last.
Yang watched without expression. Without satisfaction. Without mercy.
Finally, Liu Wei stopped moving. Stopped breathing. His eyes stared sightlessly at the forest canopy above.
Yang stood there for a long time after. Just staring at the corpse.
He'd done it. Killed Grandpa's murderer. The revenge he'd promised himself years ago in a cave by a river.
But Yang felt nothing. No satisfaction. No peace. No closure.
Just empty.
"Forgive me, Grandpa," Yang whispered to the night. "I've become the kind of person you never wanted me to be."
The forest was silent. No answer came.
Yang cleaned his spear on Liu Wei's clothes. Then he turned and walked away. Leaving the body for the beasts to find. Let them dispose of the evidence.
He made his way back through the dark forest toward his temporary shelter. The small cave where he'd stored the supplies taken from the Zhao brothers.
As Yang walked, his mind churned. He didn't feel happy. Didn't feel satisfied. Revenge had brought him no peace.
But while it brought no joy or satisfaction, he also wasn't sad or disappointed in himself for killing them. It was what it was. Done.
Yang did feel a pang that his actions caused others to grieve for the people he'd killed. The Zhao wives and children. Liu Wei's family. All of them would suffer because of what he'd done tonight.
That was unfortunate. But Yang was at peace with the decision he'd made and the actions he'd taken.
Real life is different than a novel, Yang thought. Killing someone in cold blood is never easy. Even when they deserve it.
He reached his temporary shelter and lay down on the floor. Yang twisted and turned but sleep wouldn't come. He tried anyway. Closed his eyes. He was leaving tomorrow. He needed rest.
Images played behind his eyelids. The Zhao brothers' shocked faces. Liu Wei bleeding out in the forest. The wailing of their families.
And underneath it all, Grandpa's gentle smile. The memory that had sustained Yang through four years of hell.
Was this what you would have wanted? Yang asked the memory. Would you be proud of what I've become?
The gentle smile gave no answer.
Yang didn't know when he finally fell asleep. Still lost in thought. Still wondering if revenge had been worth the price of the man he'd had to become to achieve it