Ding Yi saw him, though they weren’t far apart. She shouted, but it was too late—he couldn’t hear her. His panicked appearance was heartbreaking. Before, he had been sheltered and privileged, taking everything at his own pace, never having experienced such situations. Now with someone in his heart, his terror and unease were completely exposed. She only felt pity for him, and tears flowed freely down her face.

She couldn’t reach him through the chaotic crowd, her hands bound as she was dragged forward. Looking back, she saw a person with a garishly painted face, features indistinguishable except for the mole at the peak of his brow, which struck her heart like an iron hammer.

She suddenly realized, but before she could speak, he covered her mouth. “Don’t shout. I have something to tell you.”

What could he possibly say? It was obvious she had fallen into the hands of human traffickers. The procession continued forward, and she couldn’t break free, only able to helplessly watch as the Twelfth Master disappeared into the sea of people.

After traveling two or three li, they broke away from the procession. In the wild grass, someone was waiting. They boarded a carriage and galloped madly, destination unknown. Having fallen into their hands, escape wouldn’t be easy. She violently shook the doors and windows, but it was futile. Realizing she couldn’t save herself, she collapsed in despair.

Such a bitter fate—orphaned from childhood, fortunately meeting the Twelfth Master who cradled her in his palms when she was most helpless. At least she had him. But after just a few days of peace, she had fallen into the hands of kidnappers. Was she truly destined to suffer endlessly in this life? Unwilling to accept this, she pounded on the window. “Master Yue, let’s talk reasonably. What do you mean by this? Where are you taking me?”

There was no response from outside, only the sound of galloping hooves and howling wind.

Still unwilling to give up, she changed her tone to negotiate: “What do you want? Money? If you return me, I’ll say you rescued me. Master Jin will reward you, certainly no less than what you’d get for selling me. Master Yue, do a good deed. Our master still wants to do business with you—this behavior is dishonorable.”

Still, it was like a stone sinking into the sea, not even creating ripples. She knew it was over; they had made up their minds. Such a large group of performers had swept through, and even if the Twelfth Master had made arrangements, she had been forcibly taken away, unnoticed by those on the periphery.

Having exhausted all kind words to no avail, she leaned against the carriage wall and sighed. She could only take things one step at a time. If she had managed to survive the past dozen years, surely she could turn danger into safety this time as well. Besides, there was still the Twelfth Master—once he discovered her missing, he would naturally send people to search for her. No matter if they had traveled ten or twenty li, as long as they remained within Da Ying territory, she would eventually be found.

She lay down in a daze, half frightened and half cold. Hugging her arms tightly, she curled into a small ball. At this moment, she needed to stay calm and think about how to respond. But before she could contemplate further, they arrived. Someone outside opened the carriage door, dragged her out, and pushed her into a room.

It was different from what she had imagined. She had expected a crowded slave pen surrounded by filth and stench, but instead, it was a private room—a tile-roofed house with simple furnishings, a table, and stools. Looking around, she saw no one inside. Two funeral candles burned brightly, and incense smoke curled up from a censer, filling the room.

She was perplexed. There was an ancestral tablet in the shrine, and a strange, mystical feeling arose in her heart. Perhaps after kidnapping someone, they needed to pay respects to ancestors? What kind of custom was this? Strangely though, her heart settled, and she didn’t feel afraid.

She walked over and glanced at the four tablets, examining them one by one. They read: “Spirit Tablet of the Honorable Deceased Father Wen, Given Name Lu,” “Spirit Tablet of the Honorable Deceased Mother Wen, née Zhou,” and those of Ru Liang and Ru Gong—since they hadn’t married, they were titled as “Elder Brother.” She felt as if struck by lightning. Of all possibilities, she never imagined facing this situation. She crawled forward on her knees, embraced the four spirit tablets, and stroked them repeatedly, murmuring “Father, Mother, Brothers” over and over. The pain was extreme, and her head began to throb dully.

After leaving the Wen family, she never had the opportunity to establish tablets for them. Struggling to survive, she had to conceal her identity. Only during the Qingming Festival and winter solstice could she visit their graves to offer incense and clear weeds, occasionally sending them spirit money and gold ingots. She often dared not think about it—she was truly unfilial. While others made ancestral offerings, she had nothing. Would her parents resent her in the netherworld? Now seeing the tablets, that chord deep in her heart was struck. She pressed her forehead against the cold blue bricks, weeping uncontrollably.

Someone approached from behind, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. As if traversing hundreds of years of vicissitudes, a voice softly called her “Xiao Zao’er.” Xiao Zao’er was her childhood name. Her mother had said formal names were for public occasions and should sound dignified. Nicknames, however, should be somewhat humble—humble names were easier to raise.

She turned around anxiously, staring at the newcomer. The face, now cleansed of stage makeup, matched her memories. No wonder he had seemed strangely familiar when they first met—Yue Kunde was Ru Jian.

She moved forward a few steps. “Are you Third Brother? Are you Wen Ru Jian?”

With tears in his eyes, he tremulously replied, “Yes, I’m Third Brother. I escaped from Changbai Mountain. Of the three brothers, only I remain, having drifted to this place.”

She rushed forward into her brother’s embrace. Separated for twelve years, she had imagined their reunion countless times, thinking there would be endless sighs and reflections. But those were all beside the point. Now there was only inexpressible pain, tearing at her heart—even immediate death wouldn’t feel worse.

The siblings embraced, sobbing. All their longing poured into their sobs. At last, the family was reunited, though only two remained of the original six—complete yet incomplete.

She raised her tearful face: “Third Brother… Third Brother, you’re still alive? I went to Changbai Mountain looking for you all. I asked Aha, who said you had died from the plague. My heart turned cold. I truly wanted to join you then.”

“I was fortunate to survive. But now, a thousand li away, the Wen family has only one son left.” Ru Jian smoothed the hair on her forehead, wiped away his tears, and smiled: “This is a happy occasion, don’t cry anymore. Come, let Third Brother have a good look at you. Our Zao’er has grown up—how delighted Father and Mother would be to see you! When the three of us were at Changbai Mountain, we missed home too, wondering how you and Mother were doing. Our family was scattered, and we only hoped you were safe. Later, in that living hell, we suffered greatly. The only thing sustaining us was thoughts of you and Mother. We planned to settle down first, then escape when things calmed down, and return to find you…”

He shook his head painfully. “But ultimately, we couldn’t endure. The manor overseers devised ways to torture people. New criminal officials first had to ‘endure the hawk’—being hung from a tree, starved for two days and two nights, forbidden to close their eyes. If your eyelids were so much stuck together, you would receive a brutal beating. We had served as guards before, weathered through wind and rain, so we could still endure this. When they saw they couldn’t break our will, they shackled our hands to carrying poles. It was just after the first snow, and we were bound in the snow for three days. We had no choice but to admit defeat and let it pass. Later… there was too much. So many tortures I can’t list them all. I truly dare not recall—thinking about it can wake me in terror at midnight.”

He rolled up his pants to show her, revealing a mass of wounds, each with its own story. “This was pierced with hot tongs, this was stabbed with iron hooks, this was bitten by rats in the water prison… and there are knife wounds, arrow wounds, whip marks—my entire body is covered.”

Ding Yi covered her mouth, crying. Indeed, her experience was limited. In the capital, under the Emperor’s feet, excessive torture wasn’t permitted, but in those barbaric lands, it was different. After banishment, they not only gathered ginseng and plowed fields—the imperial manor also took private jobs. The overseers received money to rent out the Aha, specifically to solve problems animals couldn’t handle. The darkness within was indescribable.

She lowered her head to look at the two slightly smaller tablets, wiping them repeatedly while murmuring: “Elder Brother and Second Brother… they must have experienced these things too… Why couldn’t they survive? I remember Elder Brother was so robust, swimming in the river bare-chested in the dead of winter while we could only watch longingly from the shore.”

Ru Jian replied: “What does robustness matter when in their hands? Rebirth was difficult. You inquired and know how our two brothers died. Initially, we rebelled against oppression, were captured, and thrown into the water prison, beaten half to death. They gave us neither food nor water, intending to starve us. At that point, a person would even dare to bite their flesh. Do you know the feeling of enduring pain while chewing your meat…?” He shook his head, sighing deeply. “It was too terrible! The wounds became black and foul in the dirty water. Finally, a secretary intervened, fearing imperial inquiry, and had us removed. Self-consumption is unacceptable to heaven and earth. Afterward, the three of us contracted a severe illness. They wouldn’t summon doctors, leaving us to fend for ourselves. Our brothers couldn’t hold on and passed away. I too was on the brink of death, and we were all taken to a mass grave. They buried me first, then my brothers. After burial, they discovered I had clawed my way out of the soil. Those people said this kid must be a cat reincarnated, with nine lives. At that time, a trader from Suifenhe Market came looking for merchandise. I was a ‘bonus’—given away for free, and so I drifted to this place.”

Sold as merchandise, and eventually walking this path himself—truly bowing to fate! Listening to him, it felt like a long and tortuous story. She sighed: “Why didn’t you return to Beijing to find me? I waited for you every day, hoping you would come for me. I knew it was a vain hope, but I waited a full twelve years.”

He said: “I inquired and heard our family had fallen on hard times, that Mother had sold the residence. She found a small courtyard, but it too burned down, with both of you trapped inside unable to escape. That’s when I truly believed the Wen family was finished, completely ruined… Without hope, I should have gone elsewhere. The Central Plains was not a place to stay long, but I had no money. Should I continue to be sold? My martial arts skills were decent, so I flattered and followed the human trafficker at that time, becoming his assistant. It’s been five or six years, step by step to where I am today.”

He looked at her affectionately. “I used to resent myself for entering this profession, but a month ago, I was overwhelmed with gratitude to heaven. If I hadn’t stayed in this circle, how could I have waited for you? The Cloud Pavilion wasn’t where I first saw you. When you went to the Aha barracks, I was there, watching from afar. The more I looked at your face and demeanor, the more you resembled Mother. Later, I sent messenger pigeons back to Beijing to investigate. With a target in mind, the search became convenient. Thank heaven, at least one was left to me. Heaven has not treated me poorly.”

The siblings gazed at each other tearfully. After speaking at length, there was bitterness but also cherishing of this hard-won reunion. Ru Jian held her shoulders: “I’ve earned some money these past few years. We can leave here for elsewhere—the Western Regions or a tributary state would be fine. We could live very comfortably. I’ve already made all the arrangements. Taking advantage of the frozen border, we could escape to freedom in the blink of an eye. Zao’er, from now on, we siblings will depend on each other. Third Brother wants to see you married, see you surrounded by children, and revitalize our Wen family.”

His grip was so strong it hurt her. Of course, she wanted to be with him—her long-lost brother, her true blood relative whom she could depend on. In the past, she would have left without hesitation, but now she had attachments. She worried about the Twelfth Master and couldn’t bear to leave him.

She hesitated as she looked at him. Ru Jian’s eyes were full of expectation, and she dared not speak the words on the tip of her tongue, her attitude appearing lukewarm: “Leave Da Ying? Outside… I don’t know what kind of world it is…”

She had grown complacent, believing she had found her place, forgetting the deep grudge she carried. She could forgo revenge and live in obscurity, but she couldn’t extinguish her spirit. Ru Jian knew something of her relationship with Yu Wen Hong Ce. He could discern the protective nature of a man in love from Yu Wen Hong Ce’s words and actions. Perhaps they truly loved each other, but he was not a suitable match for her.

He sighed deeply, “Who caused the Wen family’s destruction? The current Emperor Emeritus! Sitting high in the bright hall, did he truly understand the case? Father was just a scapegoat—he died in place of Prince Xiaozhuang, General Zhenguo, and the Minister of Works. The Emperor Emeritus was blinded by nobles and powerful servants—he was the true blind one! The crime of the world lies with the monarch. With one stroke of his vermilion brush, how many lives were ruined forever? If we speak of vengeance, he is the chief culprit. But an arm cannot twist a thigh—our inability to enter the forbidden garden to kill him is the sorrow of us commoners. If we cannot confront, then we flee—to foreign lands, never to set foot in the Central Plains again…” He scrutinized her face. “Xiao Zao’er, what can compare to family? We are siblings of the same blood. Won’t you stay with Third Brother?”

She was torn between family and love, unable to choose. She stammered: “The Twelfth Master is the imperial envoy, mandated to reinvestigate the original case. Since the Third Brother knows the inside story, why not explain it clearly to him? Why not restore Father’s innocence?”

He laughed coldly, turning to look at the candle on the table. “What is innocence worth? Can it bring back Father, Mother, and our brothers? Besides, it’s been over ten years. Whatever tricks needed to be played have been completed. What evidence could remain? If I rashly came forward, a crime might be thrust upon me—perhaps defaming imperial officials—and then all would truly be lost. I just can’t get past that hurdle in my heart. I blame myself for my incapability. At the time of banishment, I was already fifteen, working in the Imperial Study, crossing swords with royal clansmen at the archery grounds. Few of today’s new nobles would not recognize me. I don’t avoid Beijing out of fear of death—I’ve died several times already, it’s just a matter of not drawing another breath… I must continue the Wen family bloodline. Things have come to this point; if the line ends with my generation, it would be my great unfilial act.”

She understood his meaning—he had all but exposed her relationship with the Twelfth Master. She felt somewhat ashamed. Although love was a personal matter, it couldn’t supersede family vengeance. Yet she truly couldn’t let go. The thought of parting from the Twelfth Master caused indescribable pain in her heart.

She lowered her head, not knowing how to refute Ru Jian, yet feeling she had done no wrong. Caught in a dilemma, she was trapped in a massive whirlpool she couldn’t escape. Now she only feared he might harm the Twelfth Master. Hong Ce was in the open while Ru Jian operated in the shadows. Since he could kidnap her, plotting against him wouldn’t be difficult.

“Did Third Brother know early on that Jin Yang Xian was the Twelfth Master?” She fidgeted with the corner of her garment. “Then he…”

“The old Twelfth was sent early to Khalkha; otherwise, he should have recognized me too. The Yu Wen clan of South Garden originated from the Xianbei, a mixed-blood lineage with appearances different from ordinary people. They might fool the foreigners here but not me.” Ru Jian said, “Rest assured, I also despise the business of human trafficking. I’m just stuck in this pit and can’t climb out for now. If he wants to investigate the Ninguta Imperial Manor, that’s good. I brought Suo Lun Tu in specifically to assist him. I know he has shown you kindness, and this is my way of repaying that kindness before leaving, so you won’t worry for a lifetime.”

Ding Yi felt a chill in her heart, realizing for the first time that she was truly powerless. With tears, she looked at Ru Jian: “In Da Ying, I have no attachments except for my master and the Twelfth Master. I won’t hide it from Third Brother—I’ve exchanged solemn vows with him, reaching the point where I’ll marry no one but him. You can scold me for being worthless or for forgetting my roots, but I no longer have control over myself.”

What was this if not a mess that she seemed unwilling to clean up? Ru Jian looked at her helplessly, unwilling to blame her. She had suffered enough—what pampered young lady could carry a knife to the execution ground? It was truly heartbreaking. He clenched his fist and sighed deeply, “Girls grow up, and this is inevitable. I blame myself for appearing. If I hadn’t found you, you could have returned to Beijing with him, perhaps building a future together.”

His lack of angry reprimand made her feel worse. She cried, “Third Brother, scold me. I’m worthless, undeserving of the Wen name.”

He waved his hand, “Don’t say that. We each have our difficulties, which can’t be explained in a few words. If you truly can’t bear to part with him, return to his side. I won’t blame you.”

The more he spoke this way, the harder it became for her to decide. To fulfill her romance by abandoning her only remaining relative—how could she do such a thing? She rose, placing the tablets back one by one, lit incense, and gritted her teeth: “Please allow me to see him once more. I’ll explain everything that needs to be explained, then naturally follow you. I’ve thought of you all for so many years; now that we can recognize each other, I don’t want to separate again. I dare not ask Third Brother to accommodate me completely—I don’t have the face for that—but for me, nothing would be more perfect than seeing the wrongdoers brought to justice and the Wen family’s false charges cleared. If Third Brother is willing to consider this, I would be grateful from the bottom of my heart; if it’s truly impossible due to circumstances, I understand. My vision is limited and I can’t see that far ahead—I’ll defer to Third Brother’s judgment.”

Ru Jian looked at her, and his heart finally moved. But he had too many concerns. After so many years in the jianghu, whom could he still trust?

He unclenched his fist and nodded: “I won’t stop you from seeing him. We Wen family members have never liked to owe debts. It’s not wrong for you to say goodbye. But there’s one thing—today’s reunion between us siblings cannot be revealed in the slightest. The old Twelfth might show favoritism, but others eager for merit might have unpredictable schemes. As for you… a young woman should have self-respect. This isn’t something a brother should say, but now there’s no one else in the family. I can’t shy away from it.”

Ding Yi was stunned. A strange light flashed in her eyes, quickly concealed. She bowed deeply: “I’ll remember Third Brother’s teachings and won’t forget them. I just… want to see him, say some heartfelt words. For the rest, I know my boundaries. Please rest assured, Third Brother.”