At the entrance to Yuling Town stood guards. Among them were several young men dressed in plain clothes with curved sabers at their waists. Though their identities were unknown, they were clearly no ordinary people. Fortunately, Shang Rong’s appearance was already concealed by seven or eight parts, and he wore a hood pulled over his head. The few men only gave the two of them a brief glance before paying no further attention.

But only half a day after they left Yuling Town, news had already been delivered into the hands of Lingxiao Guard Thousand-Household He Xingjin. “According to your instructions, my lord, we have thoroughly checked all the medical clinics in Nanzhou City and Yuling Town. Even the barefoot doctors who wander the streets have been questioned one by one. Only yesterday, the attending physician at Kangping Medical Hall in Yuling Town treated a person who had suffered a sword wound.”

He Xingjin had only just finished escorting the imperial carriage. Upon hearing his subordinate’s report, he did not rest even a moment before mounting his horse and rushing to Yuling Town. By the time his group arrived in town, night had already fallen.

Inside Kangping Medical Hall, the lamps burned brightly. The old physician, his beard and hair already white, looked at the young lord seated in the grand master’s chair, dressed in a dark teal robe embroidered with silver cranes. He replied cautiously, “This humble one has practiced medicine for decades. What caused a patient’s external wound—this humble one would never mistake it. That young gentleman was indeed wounded by a sword.”

“Young gentleman?”

He Xingjin raised his eyes. “It seems he is not very old?”

“His face and body were covered with quite a bit of mud. This humble one was focused on treating the injury and did not look closely at his appearance, but his voice was extremely young.” Having practiced medicine for many years, how could the old physician not understand that fewer troubles meant greater safety? He had already sensed that the youth was strange and dangerous, so he had not paid close attention to his features—thus avoiding unnecessary calamity.

“It seems he deliberately concealed himself.” A subordinate beside He Xingjin bent down and said in a low voice, “My lord, this person is highly suspicious.”

He Xingjin revealed nothing on his face. He lowered his gaze, thought briefly, then raised his head again to look at the old physician. “When you treated his injury, did you notice anything else unusual?”

“This humble one truly noticed nothing. He only called his younger sister in and asked this humble one to examine her as well.” The old physician recalled yesterday’s events, carefully shaping his words to remain as guarded as possible.

“Younger sister?” He Xingjin sharply caught those two words.

“This… this humble one only guessed. In truth, I do not know whether that young lady was truly his younger sister. She simply looked very young as well.” the old physician replied.

“Do you remember her appearance?” He Xingjin rested one hand on his knee and asked in a low voice.

The old physician shook his head. “The two of them must have fallen on the road and rolled together in mud and water. They were both filthy. That young lady’s face was completely covered in mud.”

“You don’t recognize this, you don’t recognize that—old man, do you know the consequences of deceiving us?” The young subordinate beside He Xingjin could no longer restrain himself and rebuked him sternly.

“I wouldn’t dare, this humble one would never dare deceive you, my lord!” The old physician’s knees went weak and he dropped to the ground. Seeing the blade drawn from the young subordinate’s waist, the apprentice beside him also fell to his knees with a thud. Supporting his master’s arm, he hurriedly cried out, “My lord, please see clearly! Yesterday there were many people in the medical hall. My master and I truly did not have time to examine them more closely. My master examined the young lady, prescribed medicine, and prepared the herbs. Oh—right! That young gentleman also requested several additional medicines himself, and then they left!”

“Yu Zheng.”

The subordinate was about to continue his outburst when He Xingjin, seated upright in the chair, spoke calmly. The man immediately swallowed the words that were about to come out and lowered his head in acknowledgment.

Silence fell over the medical hall. The master and apprentice did not dare raise their eyes to look at the well-featured young lord. After a moment, they suddenly heard him speak again, “What illness did that young lady have?”

“That can be considered a kind of ‘wealthy person’s illness.’ When she wears coarse fabric, she develops red rashes. But when I took her pulse, I found she also had some deficiency symptoms, and had caught a chill.” the old physician said truthfully.

Upon first hearing the words “red rashes,” He Xingjin showed no reaction. But at the latter half of the old physician’s words, a faint ripple stirred in his eyes. After a while, he said, “What other medicines did that youth take? Write down all their names.”

Late at night, only a single lamp remained in Kangping Medical Hall. The blue-robed men who had filled the entire room were all gone. The old physician and his young apprentice were drenched in cold sweat down their backs, sitting in the inner room, unable to recover their composure.

“Master… who knows what crime those two committed? I hope they don’t implicate you and me…” The apprentice was still shaken, his face pale.

The old physician wiped the sweat from his forehead with a cloth and sighed softly. “These officials are not to be provoked. That young gentleman from yesterday is also not to be provoked. If I had not left myself some room in my words today, then if these officials catch that young gentleman, all would be well. But if they fail to catch him… a jianghu¹Jianghu: Literally “rivers and lakes.” Refers to the informal world of martial artists, wanderers, outlaws, and independent figures who live outside official government authority and social order. Often associated with personal codes of honor, vendettas, and survival by one’s own strength. man like him, one who doesn’t care about his life, might very well come back to seek revenge against you and me…”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Shuqing was a full half-month’s journey from Yuling Town. Shang Rong had never experienced such a stretch of travel, exposed to the wind and sleeping in the open. The two of them had stayed at inns, and when they came upon broken temples with only a few remaining tiles, they could make do and rest there as well.

Travel-worn and dust-covered—if Zhezhu was in the mood, they could even travel day and night without distinction.

“If the Lingxiao Guard had no means, how could they win the Emperor’s favor? The medical halls you and I visited may already have been inspected by them.”

With only that cool remark from him, Shang Rong did not hesitate to scoop up snow to drive away her drowsiness, even urging him to move faster.

The mask could conceal skin tone but could not change facial features. These past days, she had relied on the boy to draw and alter her face over the mask again and again to avoid inspection at several checkpoints.

But a few days ago, the soldiers inspecting passersby were clearly paying more attention to young men and women traveling together. This further confirmed Zhezhu’s suspicion.

Fortunately, they were already near the border of Shuqing, and the secret order from Nanzhou had not yet been delivered to the Shuqing authorities.

Tonight, the wind was faint, and no snow fell. Shang Rong sat on a rock, the fire crackling before her, sparks snapping and scattering, making her shift slightly aside.

The boy, bored, poked at the burning fire with a stick, lifting his eyes to watch her sit quietly there, eating a roasted rabbit leg.

Shang Rong suddenly heard him laugh softly, and she immediately looked up at him.

“In Yuling Town, you still found the smell of blood unbearable.” The orange-yellow firelight reflected across his face.

Hearing this, Shang Rong lowered her head to look at the rabbit leg in her hand. “It seems that after eating it a few more times, I can’t smell it anymore.”

Along the way, Zhezhu often liked to buy food and little things to amuse himself. With sheer force of will, she had forced herself to eat meat several more times. Gradually, she truly could no longer smell that unbearable bloody odor from before.

She took another bite of the rabbit leg he had roasted and said, “Not only is it not bloody, it’s very fragrant.”

There was a hint of confusion in her tone that she herself did not notice, making the boy’s eyes curve slightly—but he said nothing.

There were no villages or towns nearby, only one or two scattered relay stations meant for delivering official documents or for traveling officials to rest and reorganize. Thus tonight, Shang Rong could only camp in the mountains with him.

Yet it was winter, and who knew how many hungry, red-eyed creatures lurked in the forest. Shang Rong leaned against a rock beside the fire and did not dare fall asleep, for from time to time she could always hear faint sounds.

“Can’t sleep?”

That clear, cool voice fell.

She reflexively tilted her head up. The fire had already died out, and above her, the canopy was dense and pitch-black. The moonlight was faint—no matter how she searched, she could not find even a corner of the boy’s clothing.

Suddenly, the branches rustled. Snow fell without warning, striking her forehead in a cold splash. Before she could brush it away, that light figure had already descended, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaping upward.

Shang Rong sat on the tree, clutching the thick trunk tightly. When she raised her head in alarm, moonlight filtering through the leaves fell upon the boy’s face. His long lashes cast the faintest shadow across his eyelids. He said, “Sleep.”

She was wrapped in two thick fur cloaks. He casually pulled up the hood of her cloak to cover most of her face. Leaves occasionally brushed and rustled near her ears. Shang Rong leaned against the trunk, not daring to move at all—yet the boy beside her had already gone completely still.

Like this… could he really fall asleep?

Shang Rong turned her face slightly. By now, he had disappeared into a patch of darkness beyond the mottled moonlight. She did not dare move carelessly, and feared she might fall if she slept—but in the end, she could not withstand her exhaustion.

In her dreams, she always felt like a stone suspended in midair, yet completely steady, unable to fall no matter what. Later, bright daylight pricked her eyelids. Shang Rong opened her eyes uncomfortably, only to discover that a rope had bound her firmly to the thick tree trunk.

Her drowsiness instantly vanished. Turning her head, she saw the boy beside her, sitting with arms folded against the trunk, watching her sideways.

“Did you sleep soundly?”

The boy asked with interest.

Shang Rong looked at him, her brows gradually knitting together.

She expressed her anger in silence. He carried her down from the tree, they washed by the trickling stream, and even halfway through the journey when she rode the same horse with him, she did not say a single word.

In the quiet between the two of them, the rumbling of her hungry stomach sounded somewhat clear. Her back stiffened at once, but she did not turn to look at the boy behind her.

She did not hear him laugh. She only heard him say calmly, “You were greedy yesterday. There is nothing left to eat now.”

Shang Rong suddenly remembered that she had already eaten the few pieces of pastry in the bundle. A faint flush rose to her cheeks. Just as she was about to say something, the boy suddenly yanked the reins. The horse neighed sharply and stopped in the middle of the mountain path.

She lifted her head and saw that not far ahead, several burly men were stepping in the mud, throwing several blood-soaked corpses down the cliff on the right side.

At the same time, a few others who were busy lifting the chests that had fallen into the muddy water back onto the carriage heard the faint sound of a horse behind them. They all turned around at once.

The mountain path, wet from melting snow, was slick and damp. The gazes of the two sides collided abruptly.

“Zhezhu…”

Seeing those people move, the blades they held still stained with blood, Shang Rong immediately turned her head to look up at him. The boy’s refined features were cold, yet the corner of his lips faintly lifted.

He lightly patted the back of her hand, coldly watching the dozen or so bandits advancing with drawn blades. He waited until they came near. Just as the blade sliced through the air, about to strike, he slowly spoke, “If you all can spare the lives of the two of us, I will write home and ask my parents to pay you thirty thousand taels.”

Sure enough, the wind stirred by the blade brushed aside the boy’s loose hair at his temples—then suddenly halted.

The leading man was large and burly, with a vicious scar across his face. Those fierce eyes sized up the young boy and girl from top to bottom. His gaze then fell upon the boy’s narrow waist, the jade ornaments and golden hook set into the xiedie belt gleaming beautifully.

“Thirty thousand taels of silver?” he spoke, his voice coarse.

Zhezhu did not speak, only nodded lightly.

“You know martial arts?” the man asked, noticing the soft sword coiled at his xiedie belt.

Zhezhu shook his head and sighed softly. “No. It is merely decoration for when traveling outside.”

After hearing this, the man looked them over again, then lowered his voice to exchange a few words with those beside him. Perhaps unable to resist the temptation of thirty thousand taels after all, he turned back and said, “Get off the horse. Come back to the stronghold with us.”

Whether by the Yuliang River or at the small courtyard in the mountains, Shang Rong had already seen Zhezhu’s skill. These dozen or so bandits should not be his match—but then why…

As Zhezhu helped her down from the horse, she could not help tugging at his sleeve and asked softly, “Zhezhu, what are you going to do?”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Zhezhu lowered his eyes to look at her. In that light voice was a trace of something deeply suggestive.

“Just in time to go be guests.”

Footnotes

• 1
  Jianghu: Literally “rivers and lakes.” Refers to the informal world of martial artists, wanderers, outlaws, and independent figures who live outside official government authority and social order. Often associated with personal codes of honor, vendettas, and survival by one’s own strength.