Guided by the faint light of the stars and moon, Song Liang rode hard through the night. He deliberately chose wild paths thick with fallen leaves to conceal the hoofprints. Once he had finally put some distance between himself and his pursuers, he abandoned the horse on the main road and headed toward a mountain village dotted with lamplight below.
Then he selected one lucky household and kicked in its front door.
The flimsy wooden door crashed to the ground. A hastily dressed man and a young woman hurried out of the inner room. They stared in terror at the injured young man who had seemingly appeared from nowhere, then at their ruined door.
Before the woman could scream, Song Liang slapped a large silver ingot onto the table, successfully drawing both their gazes.
“How do I get into the mountains?”
“The… the mountains?” The man gaped at the enormous ingot for a long moment before recovering. “Take the southern path. There’s a stream. Just follow it!”
Song Liang nodded. He picked up a cup from the table and drained it, easing his raw throat and cracked lips. Then he grabbed a steamed bun, held it between his teeth, and turned to leave.
“Don’t tell anyone you saw me.”
The oil lamp flickered in the draft. Behind him, the couple stared at the empty room, then at the silver on the table—enough to support their family for years. For a moment, they wondered whether they had seen a ghost.
Only when the woman nudged her husband and gestured toward the silver did he slowly approach. He glanced at the deep darkness outside, picked up the ingot, examined its quality, and bit it.
Then he turned to his wife in delight.
“It’s real!”
Surprise and joy spread across her face, followed by worry.
“What if he’s a wanted criminal?”
“Who cares? We didn’t offend him. We gave him a bun and lost a door. This silver is compensation!”
Tucking the ingot into his clothing, the man grinned at his wife.
“We’ll go into town tomorrow morning. I’ll have a new outfit made for you and buy you some jewelry!”
“Listen to you, throwing money around,” she chided affectionately. “It isn’t a holiday. What do I need jewelry for? We should find someone to make a new door first!”
“The door isn’t broken. A little fixing will do.”
He bent down, lifted the wooden door, fitted it back into the frame, and closed it.
“See? I told you it was still—”
Before he could finish, the newly replaced door was kicked open again. This time, the flimsy wood split down the middle and crashed to the ground like rotten firewood.
The man: “…”
His wife: “…”
Ruan Chong, storming in from outside, knew nothing of the history of the door he had just kicked. He stood squarely before the couple and demanded, “Official business! Have you seen a young gentleman in buff-colored brocade, covered in injuries?”
The couple saw his iron armor, then the mass of Black Armor Guards behind him, and their knees nearly gave way. Trembling, they recounted what had happened and pointed in the direction the young man had gone.
“Into the mountains?”
A cool, indifferent voice sounded behind Ruan Chong. The soldiers crowding the entrance silently parted, allowing a tall figure in narrow-sleeved black robes edged with gold-embroidered clouds to approach.
The instant the couple saw his face, they involuntarily held their breath. They hardly dared breathe at all. Had they first encountered a ghost tonight, and now an immortal? How else could someone so beautiful have appeared before them?
His features were deeply defined, his complexion cool and pale. From his hair to his temples, every detail was exquisitely formed. Even those rare, dark green eyes resembled the finest jade in the world. He scarcely seemed mortal.
They stared, utterly entranced, until Ruan Chong impatiently prompted them.
The man nodded fearfully.
“Y-yes. He went into the mountains. He asked us the way.”
“What else did he do?”
“He… left silver, drank some of our water, and took a steamed bun.”
“…”
As he finished, the exquisitely handsome nobleman glanced at the cold buns on the table. A faint chill stirred in his dark green eyes.
“How trying for him. Willing to eat such coarse fare, just to escape.”
His voice was low and pleasing, yet it sent a chill down the man’s spine. Lowering his gaze, he noticed that this immortal-looking personage had a strip of white silk wrapped around his neck, faintly stained with blood.
He was about to look more closely when his scalp prickled. He glanced up and found those frost-cold green eyes fixed heavily upon him.
Cold sweat broke out at once. He hurriedly prostrated himself and dared not look again.
His wife was trembling beside him, repeatedly insisting that they had nothing to do with it and begging for mercy.
Ruan Chong had no patience for their wailing. He had enough to worry about already.
None of them had imagined that the young emperor, with a broken leg and injuries all over his body, could feign death convincingly enough to fool him, seize their prince, cut his neck, injure his leg with a kick, and then ride through dense forest, shaking off his pursuers without leaving a trace.
Finally, he had abandoned his horse on the main road and headed for this mountain village. After they painstakingly followed his footprints here, they discovered he had already gone into the mountains.
He could run. He could really, really run!
If Ruan Chong hadn’t witnessed the young emperor’s extravagant palace life himself, he would have suspected the Grand Empress Dowager had been training him as an assassin.
More importantly, Chancellor Yin had people in nearby Hanshui, the closest city. If the young emperor fell into their hands, they would be in trouble.
Just then, the guards searching inside and outside the house returned to report that they had found no sign of the emperor. Ruan Chong looked at Xie Yun and asked whether they should continue.
Entering the mountains with injuries that severe could only lead to one of two outcomes: dying from his wounds or being devoured by wild animals. Neither warranted further searching. They wouldn’t need to worry about him falling into Chancellor Yin’s hands, either.
They could simply act as though they had never found him. No one knew, after all. Without evidence, those in the palace wouldn’t dare cast suspicion on their prince.
It was merely a pity that the young emperor, the exalted sovereign himself, should meet an end that left him without even an intact body.
Besides, once the emperor died, upheaval in the capital was inevitable. That would be an excellent opportunity for their prince. Rather than waste time searching here, they should hurry back, seize the initiative, and make their preparations.
Cen Huan naturally agreed. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became, and he looked expectantly at his prince.
But Xie Yun said only, “Search the mountains.”
Both men froze.
“For the body?” Ruan Chong couldn’t help asking.
“He would not seek death so readily,” Xie Yun replied calmly.
Cen Huan was equally puzzled. “Why?”
Xie Yun recalled the young man’s reckless determination as he mounted the horse, and the words spoken beside his ear while holding him hostage.
“Here. Have it back.”
“He holds grudges,” he said indifferently.
“?”
Both men looked baffled. Before they could ask, Xie Yun had already turned to leave.
His departing figure was as striking as ever, his bearing composed and dignified, with the unmistakable air of royalty. Yet his steps were much slower now. In particular, there was a slight stiffness whenever his left foot touched the ground.
It was barely noticeable unless one looked closely. In fact, his deliberately measured pace only lent him an added air of refined elegance.
Since Xie Yun had given the order, they could only obey. They led the Black Armor Guard away in force, though before leaving, they tossed down a silver ingot as compensation for the door.
The couple, still kneeling and trembling, brightened at the sight of the silver before them. They began planning their trip into town again: new clothes, jewelry—although this time they really would have to find a carpenter to make a new door.
They were clutching the silver and imagining their purchases when a voice suddenly sounded beside them.
“I need to go into town tomorrow too.”
Still delighted, the man answered without thinking.
“Of course! We can all go together!”
Then the smile froze on his face.
His wife went rigid beside him.
After a moment of silence, they turned their heads like wooden puppets toward the voice.
There stood the young man who, a quarter of an hour earlier, had been the first to kick in their door, leave a silver ingot, and make off with a steamed bun.
He was leaning against the doorway of their inner room with an air of careless irreverence. His lips were bloodless, but his face was unnaturally flushed, and even the outer corners of his beautiful eyes were tinged red.
Though he was still smiling, his gaze had begun to lose focus. He looked as though he might collapse at any moment.
The couple’s hearts jolted. The woman hid behind her husband. His eyes darted about, and he had barely edged one foot half a step toward the exit when the battered young man lowered his eyelids and spoke lazily.
“You pointed them in the wrong direction. If I’m exposed, you become my accomplices. I’ll be beheaded. You’ll be sentenced to death by a thousand cuts.”
The couple froze.
Song Liang could no longer hold on. The punishing escape and the pain in his lower leg, so intense it had become numb, had drained every last bit of his strength.
No matter how strong his will, he could not change the limitations of Li Huai’s body.
The moment he finished threatening them, he lost consciousness completely and collapsed to the floor.
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