Zhou Yuncong's words struck a deep chord in the father and daughter. Yuncong pressed further, asking how they had saved him. The old man sighed and spoke: “My name is Zhang Laosi—folks call me Honest Zhang because I'm a man of my word. My wife passed away years ago, leaving just my daughter Yuzhen and me. We've tended the temple's vegetable garden for over ten years. Never did I think those monks could be so vicious.”

  “As things stand, you've escaped with your life, young master. But once the rain stops tomorrow, the monks will check the stone cave. They'll surely trace you back to my house. I learned some martial arts in my youth, but even the strongest fists can't fight four hands. My daughter and I stand no chance against them. I don't care if we get dragged into this, but your life will be forfeit.”

  “I was already in bed tonight when my daughter Yuzhen woke me. She said a young man had fallen over the wall into our yard. At first, I thought you were a wanderer—someone who'd come to the temple for money, gotten hurt, and fled here. I planned to wake you, ask your story, and send you on your way. Imagine my surprise when I found you're a young master, and a newly appointed Juren (a successful candidate in the imperial examination) at that. Dawn is nearly here, and we're in mortal danger. You must make a decision quickly.”

  Yuncong's heart raced with fear and shock. He forgot the pain in his hands and feet, scrambling to his knees to beg for help. “Please, Master Zhang—save me!”

  The old farmer helped him up. “Rise, young master. Let me discuss this with my daughter first; we'll figure something out.” He called Yuzhen outside. The father and daughter talked in low voices for a long while before returning.

  “There's no way to please everyone,” the old farmer said. “For my daughter's safety, the easiest thing would be to tie you up and hand you over to the monks. It would save us trouble and even earn us their favor. But I'm not that kind of man. You have two choices.”

  “First: I'll open the door and let you run now. I won't report you. But every household within ten li (about 5 kilometers) farms temple land, and the monks have eyes everywhere. Whether you escape depends entirely on luck.”

  “Second: My daughter and I will flee with you. It's not guaranteed to be safe, but it's better than you running alone. I've lived here most of my life and hate to leave, but I'm over fifty, and Yuzhen is my only child—I can't bear to go against her wishes. But if we abandon our home and risk our lives for you, you must tell us: where will we go once you're safe?”

  Yuncong studied the old farmer—his eyes were sharp, his posture steady. This was no ordinary farmer; there was more to him than met the eye. Gratitude swelled in his chest—someone was willing to sacrifice everything to save a stranger.

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  “Master Zhang, your kindness is beyond repayment,” Yuncong said sincerely. “I carry the weight of nine generations of my family's legacy and have plenty of property. Ask anything of me, and I'll do it. But I feel guilty asking you to leave your home for me.”

  Just then, Yuzhen stepped into the room. Zhang nodded at her before turning back to Yuncong. “You understand the danger—we don't have time for pleasantries. I trust you won't be ungrateful. You're a scholar, after all—you know the rule that men and women should not touch.”

  “You're mistaken, Master Zhang!” Yuncong protested. “I've studied morality since childhood. Even if I were traveling with your daughter alone at night, I'd never dishonor her. That would make me no better than a beast.”

  Zhang frowned. “You're such a bookworm. You talk of escaping—but do you even know how? You grew up in luxury, spoiled and protected. After days of danger, barely surviving a violent storm, your hands and feet are injured. The rain hasn't stopped. You can't even walk a li (half a kilometer), let alone escape far.”

  Yuncong froze. He tried to stand, but sharp pain shot through his limbs. Tears blurred his eyes—he was trapped, with no way out.

  “Don't panic,” the old farmer said. “If we couldn't help you, we wouldn't have offered to flee with you.”

  Yuzhen stepped forward, holding two bundles and a bolt of summer cloth. “It's getting late—I've packed everything we need. Father, wrap Master Zhou's back. I'll get food; we'll eat and leave at once. Delay will be fatal.” She turned and left the room.

  Zhang tore the cloth in half. He wrapped Yuncong's back in a crisscross pattern, then bound his thighs with the remaining cloth. Soon, Yuzhen returned with a tray of cold wine, dishes, and rice. She soaked three bowls of rice in warm water, and the three ate hastily.

  Yuzhen left again, then came back to urge them. Zhang lifted Yuncong onto his back, securing him with cloth around his chest and thighs. Yuzhen removed her long gown, slipping into a gray short jacket with a hero's clasp at her chest. She slung their weapons over her shoulder and divided the bundles between her back and waist.

  Zhang blew out the oil lamps. The three slipped out the back door, creeping along the wall toward the main road. The rain had lightened but not stopped, turning the path into ankle-deep mud. No lanterns lit the way—they stumbled forward, step by step, as the night slowly faded.

  By the time the first faint light of dawn broke, they'd only traveled five or six li (2.5-3 kilometers). In the dim glow of the morning stars, Yuzhen pointed to a thatched cottage beside a large tree, smoke curling from its chimney.

  “Father, isn't that Uncle Qiu's tofu shop?” she whispered. “Can we stop there to rest and catch our breath?”

  Zhang smiled. “I'd forgotten about him. We're not out of danger yet, but his place is safe for a short rest.” He headed toward the cottage, but just as he was about to call out, his eyes narrowed.

  A Taoist priest stumbled out of the cottage—ragged clothes, a red gourd slung over his back, the strong smell of wine wafting from him. Zhang grabbed Yuzhen's hand, yanking her behind a tree. The Taoist walked past them, seemingly unaware of their presence, his steps unsteady but purposeful.