The Orchid Farmer's Sacrifice by Fred Yu

Author:Fred Yu
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fred Yu
Published: 2020-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Later that night Feng began digging a shallow ditch next to a raging campfire. Ming had recovered her mobility, despite spending several days unconscious. She crouched beside the fire, feeding it with one thick branch after another. The intense heat didn’t seem to bother her, though her cheeks flushed a deep pink, making her skin more vibrant than ever.

Feng dug in silence. Ever since he encountered the small farm girl with the basket of herbs, the rapid-fire arrows shrieking behind him, he thought of her every moment when his mind was idle and often when his mind was not so idle. He dreamed of Ming paying attention to him, speaking to him without mockery, showing interest that was not rooted in personal gain. And now, when she finally sat down next to him, he couldn’t lift his eyes.

Feng reached into the narrow hole and scooped a handful of wet mud into his hand. He held the mountain chicken and noted its weight before smearing the mud on the feathers.

Ming peered over from the side of the campfire. “What are you doing?”

“Making chicken.”

“What kind of chicken?”

“Mud chicken.”

“But you’re going to bury the chicken,” she said. “I thought we’re going to eat it.”

“I’m going to cook it in this pit. Du tried this last year, and . . .” His voice faded at the mention of his friend.

Ming placed a hand on his shoulder. “You killed him yourself. Your sister has been avenged.”

Feng was unable to meet her gaze. “Not until I kill Zeng Xi. And this Judge. And my father—he needs to tell me why he didn’t try to save her.”

He grabbed a handful of dried twigs, snapped them in half, and tossed them into the pit.

Ming wrapped her arm around his shoulder and leaned against his body. His heart pounded so hard he thought he would die.

She whispered into his ear. “We’ll kill Zeng Xi together. And if you want this Judge dead, I’ll help you kill him too.”

Feng grabbed another handful of twigs. “I need to set a massive fire in this pit,” he said, changing the subject. “When the large branches burn to a red glow, I’ll throw in the chicken and bury it. It’ll cook in no time.”

“It’s going to taste wonderful.” Her voice was soft, gentle. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Will you cook something nice for me every day?”

“I . . . Of course, I will. I don’t know much, but—”

Ming giggled. “I want tofu.”

“Tofu? Where are we anyway?”

“My father said we traveled southeast for three days.”

“Three days by carriage?’ Feng asked. “We’re almost halfway to the capital.”

“Let’s go look for Iron Spider. She’ll be hiding someplace where there’s tofu.”

Feng threw in another handful of branches. “She’s really like an aunt to you, isn’t she?”

“All the elders were. I’m the youngest master of the Venom Sect ever. Now, Iron Spider is the only elder left.”

“We’ll find her, Ming. I look forward to seeing her again.”

“She’ll tell you to stop barking like a neutered dog.

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