Volume One Carefree Journey Amidst Indistinguishable Leaves Chapter Eighty-Two The Black Cloak

In late autumn, the firewood was dry and easily caught flame. In just a moment, a blazing bonfire roared at the mouth of the cave, villagers tossing more dry tinder onto the pyre now and then. Some fanned the smoke into the cave with their own garments, sending billows of thick smoke curling inside.

After quite some time, there was no sound from within. Someone could not help but say, “Could that beast have been suffocated to death in there?”

“If it’s really dead, all the better—saves us the trouble,” another replied.

Just then, a strange cry rang out, and a dark shadow shot out from the cave, swift as a leopard. The villagers cried out in alarm, and Han Yi barked loudly, “Don’t panic! Don’t let it escape!”

The shadow leaped over the fire and dashed forward. One villager, caught off guard, was knocked aside with a heavy blow, crying out as he stumbled away. Fortunately, others were prepared. They swung their wooden clubs fiercely at the escaping figure.

The clubs struck its shoulder, but the shadow made no sound, darting left and right in an attempt to break free. The villagers encircled it, clubs raining down. Yang Ning watched from the back and saw clearly: the shadow was covered in black fur—though the fur was dull and sparse, just as the old man had said. The creature stood on two legs.

After a dozen blows, the shadow saw no way out and crouched on the ground, no longer resisting. As a villager raised his hoe to strike, Yang Ning shouted, “Stop!”

His sudden cry startled everyone. They turned to him as he pushed forward, saying, “Don’t hit him anymore. He’s not a beast. Haven’t you noticed?”

The dark figure, covered in black fur and moving swiftly, had kept the villagers tense, determined to kill it lest it escape. No one had bothered to see what it truly was—after all, they could examine it once it was dead. But hearing Yang Ning’s words, Han Yi looked carefully, then snatched a club from a villager and poked at the shadow.

“He’s a human,” Yang Ning sighed. “If you kill him, you’ll end up in prison.”

The crowd was stunned. They saw the shadow trembling—those with keen eyes finally realized, “That’s not fur—it’s… it’s clothing!”

Han Yi now saw clearly: the black fur was actually a luxurious cloak, the kind only wealthy families owned.

Cloaks came in seasonal varieties: thin and cool for summer, thick and warm for winter. The richest even made them from animal pelts—bear or leopard skins being the most prestigious. The cloak on this shadow was made of such a pelt.

A few torches were brought closer, illuminating the figure: a man tightly wrapped in the cloak, shivering, head lowered. His messy black hair blended with the cloak, making it hard to distinguish in the night. No wonder he was mistaken for a mountain beast.

Yang Ning had hoped to see some rare mountain creature, but upon finding a man wrapped in a cloak, he felt a tinge of disappointment. Yet he was puzzled—such a valuable cloak could never be found in this impoverished region, not even in most county towns.

Yet here was a man, clad in a cloak that had no place here. He must be of unusual status; if not nobility, at least someone who lacked nothing for food and clothing. But this man had hidden in the mountains like a beast, surviving by stealing chickens and scavenging, his whole being exuding strangeness.

Yang Ning stepped closer, bending slightly, and softened his voice, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. No one will harm you.”

The man trembled all over. Hearing Yang Ning’s voice, he slowly lifted his head. Under the torchlight, someone glimpsed his face and cried out in horror.

Not only the villagers, but Yang Ning himself was startled. The man’s hair was wild, his beard scruffy, his face filthy. The right side of his face was covered with lumps, as if burnt by fire, the flesh forming tumors that rendered his appearance terrifying.

Yet his eyes shone bright, filled with fear. Seeing Yang Ning before him, the man showed hostility, growling low in his throat.

“I know you’re frightened, but no one here will hurt you.” Despite the man’s ugly face and tragic state, Yang Ning spoke gently, “Are you hungry? Where is your home?”

As he spoke, he stepped forward, seemingly casual but fully alert. The man’s speed earlier was not ordinary; Yang Ning worried he might suddenly attack.

“Hungry… hungry…!” The man muttered unclearly, “Food… hungry… food…!”

Yang Ning noted the man’s slurred speech and his repetition of the same few words, growing more curious. “Don’t worry. Answer my questions first—we’ll get you food. Tell us, who are you? Why are you here?”

The man saw Yang Ning’s gentle manner and his hostility lessened, though he remained fearful. As Yang Ning approached, he instinctively retreated, still muttering, “Hungry… food… hungry…!”

Han Yi leaned in and whispered, “Brother, this man… seems not quite right in the head. He doesn’t seem to understand you.”

“How old do you think he is?” Yang Ning had already realized the man was mentally impaired, unable to communicate normally. Wrapped in the black cloak, his face covered in beard, he looked like a beggar wandering the land.

Han Yi studied him and shook his head, “I can’t tell for sure, but he’s probably thirty or forty.”

“He must be someone fallen on hard times,” Yang Ning said. “He stole chickens from the village because he was starving.”

Han Yi murmured, “That cloak looks like bear skin… could it have been stolen from somewhere?”

“This kind of bear skin cloak is priceless. Even with money, you might not be able to buy it,” Yang Ning examined the man. “Not just ordinary folk—even wealthy families may not possess such a cloak. Whoever owns one would treasure it dearly; how could it be stolen so easily?”

Han Yi nodded, agreeing with Yang Ning’s logic. He whispered, “So you think the cloak belongs to this man? But, as you said, such a cloak is far too expensive for most people—why would he have it? Who is he?”

“I wish I knew,” Yang Ning sighed. “But we won’t find out right away.” After a moment’s thought, he said, “Let’s take him down the mountain. We can’t leave him up here. Later, you can report to the authorities and let them investigate his background. If his family is found, the village’s losses can be compensated.”

He suspected the man was a lost relative from a wealthy household, one whose mind was not sound and thus wandered. If this were true, his family would have already reported his disappearance. Once the authorities learned he was here, it would be easy to return him home.

Han Yi and the villagers had thought a mountain beast had taken their chickens. Now, seeing it was a man, they had no intention of harming him and agreed to follow Yang Ning’s suggestion.

“We’re going to eat now,” Yang Ning said with a smile to the man. “Would you like to join us? If you’re hungry, you should eat. We have food.”

The man only stared at Yang Ning, saying nothing.

Yang Ning smiled and walked a few steps away. The man rose, following behind, repeating, “Food… food… hungry…!”

Han Yi was still wondering how to bring the man back to the village, but Yang Ning’s few words had already enticed him to follow. Yang Ning led the way down the mountain, the ugly man trailing behind, as if afraid Yang Ning would vanish, repeating those words incessantly. The villagers exchanged glances, finding the night’s events most peculiar. They quickly extinguished the fire, lest it spread to the forest, and headed down the mountain.

Yang Ning glanced back from time to time, seeing the man’s cloak dragging on the ground. As he walked, his bare feet, thick with grime, were exposed. Yang Ning knew the man had suffered greatly.

Yang Ning led the way, the ugly man followed a few paces behind, and Han Yi guided the villagers at the rear.

Upon entering the village, Gu Qinghan was already waiting with the villagers, young and old. Seeing Yang Ning, she hurried over, her voice low and angry, “You child, always so unruly when you leave home—do you never listen? Who told you to wander off?” Her words were reproachful, but her concern was evident.

Yang Ning had not yet replied when Gu Qinghan froze, staring at the ugly man behind him. The man’s hideous face and bizarre attire made her frown. She whispered, “Who… who is that?”

“There’s a monster! Run, everyone!” A village woman behind shouted in fright, having seen the ugly man. The villagers were startled, but Yang Ning hurried to reassure them, “Don’t be afraid! He’s not a monster—he’s a person, fallen on hard times. No need for alarm.”