The Winds of Tepr

Chapter 53

The peasants tighten their circle around Kuan, their faces twisted with suspicion and anger. Behind them, Jia's body is trampled, her limp form kicked and shoved aside as if she were nothing more than debris. Kuan barely looks at her now, his laughter still bubbling in his throat as he wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"What's so funny, boy?" one of the peasants snarls, his voice sharp, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. "What are you laughing at?"

Kuan shakes his head, the laughter fading into a low chuckle, his shoulders trembling slightly. "Nothing," he says, still grinning, his voice light. "I'm sorry. Nothing's wrong at all."

The peasant that had ordered Jia's death steps forward, his stick clutched tightly in his fist. He's a big man, his face lined with dirt and sweat, his eyes burning with suspicion. "Show us the way," he says, his tone hard, "through the sewers. To the city."

Kuan meets his gaze, his expression softening into something resembling calm. "Of course," he replies smoothly. "I'll guide you."

The peasant's brow furrows, his eyes narrowing. "And why are you so willing to help us, eh? What's your game?"

Kuan lets out another quiet laugh, almost like a sigh. "No game. I just don't want to die."

The words hang in the air for a moment, the other peasants shifting uneasily. The big man takes another step toward Kuan, his stick now leveled at the boy's chest. "If you try anything strange—if you so much as whisper for help—I'll kill you right here. You hear me?"

Kuan's grin stretches wider, and he raises his hands in mock surrender. "I wouldn't dare," he says, his tone light but confident. "Why would I want to get myself killed? That wouldn't benefit anyone. Least of all me."

The big man watches him carefully, his knuckles whitening around his stick. "You think you're clever, don't you, boy?"

Kuan tilts his head, his eyes glinting with amusement. "No. Not clever. Just realistic."

The peasant glares at him for a moment longer, then spits on the ground. "We should kill you anyway. Make sure you don't cause any trouble."

Kuan chuckles again, this time louder, shaking his head. "Kill me? You shouldn't. I'm far more useful to you alive."

The peasants exchange uneasy glances, and the big man's grip on his stick loosens just a bit. "How's that?"

Kuan takes a step forward, lowering his voice but keeping it steady. "I'm an apprentice of Hunan of the Eastern Bureau," he explains. "I know things. I'm valuable. If you take me hostage, the guards won't dare attack you. They'll be too afraid to risk my life. With me, you can make your terms—get what you want."

The big man's eyes narrow again, but this time with a glint of consideration. "And what makes you think we can trust you to guide us to the city?"

Kuan smiles faintly, shrugging. "What choice do I have? You've already killed her." He nods toward Jia's discarded body. "And I'm not exactly in a position to call for help, am I?"

The peasants fall silent, the weight of Kuan's words sinking in. The big man looks him up and down, his mouth twisted in thought. Then, after a tense moment, he lowers his stick slightly.

"Fine," the peasant growls, his tone begrudging. "You lead us. But remember, boy, one wrong move, and you'll be lying next to her."

Kuan's smile doesn't falter. "I wouldn't dream of it."

He stands at the edge of the sewer entrance, the dim light flickering off the slick stone walls. He straightens his back, ready to lead the peasants through the maze beneath the city, but then, his stomach growls—loud, insistent, and impossible to ignore. His hand instinctively moves to his midsection, and for a brief moment, he forgets about everything else.