Raising Orphans, Not Assassins
Vol. 2 - Ch. 34 - Farewell and the Spring Flood!

The next day.

Yuhang County, Orphanage.

A rooster's crow pierced the dawn, loud and clear.

Daming had already changed into a fresh new set of clothes, a silly grin on his face.

The large wooden box on his back had been tightly wrapped with cloth strips.

The Qilin Box and the massive axe were far too eye-catching. He couldn’t just carry them around in the open.

Knock knock knock…

There was a knock at the door.

Still smiling, Daming went over and opened it.

Chen Ye stood outside. He gave a faint smile and asked, “All packed?”

“Want to grab breakfast with your old man?”

Daming grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

The wooden box on his back was tightly bound and secure.

Chen Ye eyed it, hesitating as if to say something.

If he’s ever in real danger, will he even have time to unwrap the axe before it’s over?

Seeing Chen Ye stare at the bundle, Daming gave a sheepish grin. “Too flashy.”

Chen Ye’s expression grew complicated. He patted Daming’s shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

Daming nodded.

Father and son walked out of the foundling home and headed toward the morning market.

The street wasn’t crowded—mostly just small vendors hawking their wares.

Chen Ye led Daming to a wonton stall.

The boss, seeing the two of them approach, opened his mouth and asked, “Twenty bowls?”

Chen Ye chuckled and shook his head. “Thirty.”

The boss: “…”

“…Alright then, just a moment!”

He got to work quickly.

Before long, two steaming bowls of wontons were served.

Chen Ye and Daming each took one and began eating in silence.

Bowl after bowl was brought to the table.

Soon, empty bowls started stacking up.

Hoo…

Chen Ye put down his eighth bowl and looked at Daming.

Daming’s head was lowered, focused on eating.

Tear tracks lined his cheeks, and his eyes were red.

His tears fell into the bowl, mixing with the wontons.

But Daming didn’t seem to notice—he kept shoveling food into his mouth, not making a sound.

He tried to be silent, but the tears on his face couldn’t be hidden.

Seeing this, Chen Ye’s eyes reddened as well.

Daming was the first child he met upon arriving in Dawu.

After two years together, Chen Ye already saw him as his own son.

Now his son was about to set off, leaving home behind.

Chen Ye couldn’t help feeling reluctant.

Thanks to daily star-gazing, Chen Ye wasn’t too worried about Daming’s safety.

But with that naive and honest nature of his, Daming was sure to suffer plenty along the way.

“Eat slowly, there’s no rush,” Chen Ye said softly.

Daming, still buried in his bowl, nodded hard.

Time passed, second by second.

Eventually, Daming finished twenty bowls. He let out a satisfied burp and set the bowl aside.

A towering stack of empty bowls now sat on the table.

Daming wiped his mouth, his eyes swollen red.

He gave Chen Ye a clumsy, tear-streaked grin.

Chen Ye couldn’t help but smile and pointed to the last two bowls that had just been served.

“Not eating anymore?”

Daming grinned again. “I’m full.”

“Really full.”

Chen Ye nodded, his voice a little hoarse. “It’s getting late. You should go.”

Daming’s eyes reddened again. He got up, bending his knees slightly to kneel and offer Chen Ye three kowtows.

But a strong hand held him up.

Chen Ye stood before him, smiling gently. “That’s enough.”

“I understand your intentions.”

“Be careful on the road.”

Daming nodded hard.

Chen Ye patted his shoulder lightly and said in a low voice, “Go on.”

Daming turned around and walked a few steps, then looked back.

Chen Ye smiled and waved his hand.

Daming’s eyes were red, his nose sniffing. He walked three steps, turned back once, and gradually disappeared down the street.

Chen Ye returned to the bench at the wonton stall and took a deep breath.

Even he felt his nose sting.

After calming down, he looked at a nearby table.

A woman in black sat there, a long sword resting on the table.

Her eyes were like autumn waters, a light veil covering her face.

Even with just her eyes and brows visible, it was clear she was an absolute beauty.

But the chill in her gaze and her aura screamed: Stay away.

Chen Ye lightly tapped the table with his fingers.

The woman stood and walked over respectfully, bowing slightly.

Seeing this, Chen Ye sighed, a bit annoyed. “Sit. You’re attracting too much attention like that.”

Qin Yi nodded and sat where Daming had just been.

Chen Ye starred in the direction Daming had gone. “Have the people from Yuye Hall keep an eye on him.”

“No need to interfere with small matters. Let him try to solve them on his own.”

“If things get too serious, then step in.”

“Understood?”

Qin Yi’s voice was cold, yet respectful. “Yes.”

Chen Ye gave a small nod. “Go.”

Qin Yi stood, but just as she was about to leave, Chen Ye remembered something.

“How’s things going on Xiaosheng’s side?”

Qin Yi sat back down.

“Zhou Ba has already delivered the intel. He and Qiong Aohai are heading to Wuchang Prefecture.”

“Wan Qing was last seen there.”

“They want to investigate further.”

Chen Ye nodded.

“Got it. Step in if necessary.”

“You can go.”

Qin Yi bowed again. “Yes.”

She rose and disappeared into the crowd.

Chen Ye gazed down the street, eyes deep, fingers gently tapping the table.

…

February 21st

Dusk.

West of Jingzhou Prefecture — Badong County.

The sky was heavy and gray, thick clouds pressing down.

The orange-red sunset was completely smothered.

Moist wind blew through the air. Every now and then, low rumbles echoed across the dark sky.

Lightning slithered through the clouds—

A storm was clearly on its way.

By the riverside fields,

Several farmers in coarse hemp clothing looked up at the sky and prepared to head home.

Not far from the fields, a massive river raged.

This was one of the upper branches of the Yangtze River.

Every spring, melting snow and ice flowed downstream, carrying chunks of frozen debris.

It surged for miles upon miles.

The rising waters often flooded farmlands and homes, triggering natural disasters.

Because the floods always occurred when peach blossoms were in bloom, the spring floods were also called Peach Blossom Floods.

The farmers looked at the looming clouds with growing unease.

From the looks of it this year, the spring rains and the Peach Blossom Floods might strike at the same time.

A few years ago,

Upstream of Badong—in Kuizhou Prefecture—

The prefect of Kuizhou built a dam in Wushan to block the annual floodwaters.

Over the years, it had worked well.

Flooding still occurred, but it was much better than before.

Even so, spring floods remained a serious threat to farmers.

They sighed, shouldered their hoes, and headed home in twos and threes.

The sky grew darker by the minute. Any later, and they’d have to find their way back in the dark.

The farmers of Badong chatted and laughed as they walked.

Then suddenly—

BOOM! A deafening thunderclap.

The farmers halted in their tracks, turning their gazes toward the direction of the sound.

From the upstream direction of Kuizhou, several columns of fire shot into the sky.

Boom!

Boom!

Explosions like the cracking of the heavens echoed across the land.

Even the earth trembled beneath their feet.

Terror spread across the farmers' faces.

They had no idea what had just happened, but a sense of foreboding welled up in their hearts.

At that very moment, a bolt of lightning tore through the sky.

Rumble...

The dark clouds surged. Fierce winds howled. Thunder roared like a war drum.

Blue streaks of lightning danced within the clouds, flickering with a life of their own.

Crash! Boom!

Bolts of lightning split through the darkness, bathing the world in their blue glow.

And then—

The heavens opened.

Rain poured down in torrents.

Snapped back to their senses, the farmers wasted no time—they turned and dashed toward home.

By the time they reached their houses, the rain had already soaked them to the bone.

This year’s spring rain was fiercer than any in recent memory.

The farmers had barely made it inside. Some lit oil lamps, others were preparing to eat dinner.

Suddenly, the village was pierced by cries of alarm.

Amid the chaos, the sound of rushing water could faintly be heard.

Confused and uneasy, the villagers stepped out to their doorways and peered outside.

The sky was pitch-black. Rain lashed down relentlessly.

Lightning slithered through the clouds, and every burst lit up the earth like daylight.

Under the brief flashes of light, the villagers saw something that made their blood run cold.

A massive, muddy torrent had surged onto the village road—roaring like a wild beast, crashing through the heart of the village.