Zheng Mingshan’s accommodation arrangements for Luo Ren and Cao Yanhua could only be described as casual. He led them into the front courtyard and pointed to two dark wing rooms: “You two stay there. Find the bedding yourselves, it might be in the cabinet. If you can’t find any, just make do. Handle everything else on your own, don’t ask me—I just arrived a few days ago myself and am not familiar with these trivial matters.”

With that, he patted his backside and shuffled away, taking Mu Dai to the back courtyard. Plum Flower Nine Lady lived in the back courtyard. Although Mu Dai and Zheng Mingshan didn’t stay long-term, they always had rooms in the back that were regularly cleaned, maintained as if they were still practicing martial arts in Youwu Town.

Luo Ren and Cao Yanhua exchanged bitter smiles.

Pushing open the door, they were greeted by a stuffy atmosphere mixed with a hint of mustiness. Luo Ren took out his phone for light, finally finding the light cord behind the door. He pulled it, brightening the room, then looked around with a wry smile.

In this large compound where Plum Flower Nine Lady lived alone year-round, rarely receiving guests, it was understandable that the extra rooms did not need tidying—there were only a few old-fashioned pieces of furniture. The bed was an antique carved piece with a classical aesthetic, but forget blankets—there wasn’t even a mattress, just bare wooden planks.

In the corner stood a Wanli-era cabinet with open shelves on top and double doors below. Pulling on the brass handles, they found several bedding sets haphazardly stuffed inside, releasing a musty odor from years of disuse.

Behind him came footsteps as Cao Yanhua entered with a dejected face: “Brother Luo, is this habitable? My bed even has a missing plank.”

Luo Ren closed the cabinet doors: “Make do with it. Consider it a test from your martial lineage—Madam Mei hasn’t even approved your entry into the school yet, so it wouldn’t be good to complain, especially since…”

Especially since, on your first visit, you desperately tried to knock over Senior Uncle’s rice bowl, already losing significant points.

Who could he blame but himself for being too honest? Fatty Cao resigned himself mournfully to his fate.

The front courtyard had no hot water, only a faucet in one corner covered with moss, its water flow as thin as a thread. Luo Ren couldn’t be bothered to struggle with it, so he washed up with cold water, quickly wiped his face, and returned to his room to sleep.

Finding the mattress too disgusting, he lay directly on the wooden bed in his clothes. Having driven continuously for a day and night, mentally and physically exhausted, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the board.

Yet his sleep was restless.

He seemed to hear water sounds, gurgling and bubbling near his ears. Rolling over, he inadvertently opened his eyes and discovered that at some point, a downpour had begun.

Heavy rain poured down, and strong winds rattled the carved window frames on their hinges. Through gaps in the windows, he could see white rain lines falling diagonally. Looking down, he saw that the water inside the room had nearly reached the edge of the bed.

Was the rain really this heavy? How was Cao Yanhua sleeping through it without a sound? Luo Ren sat up and called out: “Cao Yanhua…”

Bubbles rose from one spot in the water, followed by churning waves. Suddenly, a head emerged from the surface, gasping for air, trembling as it reached out a hand toward him, saying: “Luo, save me.”

Yureis?

Luo Ren’s head felt as if struck by a heavy hammer. Mumbling with his lips, he almost tumbled into the water, which suddenly transformed into a profoundly deep blue ocean. Under clear skies, countless silver-gleaming flying fish skimmed across the sea surface.

Around Yureis spread a blood-red pool, like foam dispersing. He called hoarsely: “Luo, Luo…”

Luo Ren desperately reached out, trying to grasp Yureis’s arm, but always missing by the slightest margin. The seawater began to submerge Yureis’s jaw, mouth, and nostrils, until finally only the crown of his short, curly hair remained visible.

Tears flowed down Luo Ren’s face as he said: “I’m sorry, Yureis, I’m sorry…”

His whole body shook with spasms, alternately hot and cold.

I’m sorry, I desired to avenge Tasha; I shouldn’t have involved all of you.

I’m sorry, I was reckless then, thinking only of fighting Leopard to the death. I should have realized that Leopard’s lair had always been heavily guarded and would be prepared. I should have been calm, should have planned thoroughly. Nine brothers entrusted their lives to me, and I had no plan—like eggs striking stone. Why did I come back alive? I should have died there, trading my life for yours…

…

Someone gently pushed him: “Luo Xiaodao? Luo Xiaodao?”

Like a flicker in the dream, the seawater receded, and the sounds of wind and rain disappeared. Consciousness gradually returned to reality—this was evening in Youwu Town, cool and quiet. Listening carefully, there was an occasional cicada call.

Luo Ren opened his eyes briefly and saw Mu Dai wearing a white silk nightgown with subtle patterns. Her long hair hung down, carrying a warm, humid fragrance as she leaned over to gently push him: “Luo Xiaodao?”

Unlike Luo Ren, Mu Dai’s room had everything needed. Opening the wardrobe revealed nightwear and training clothes, all freshly washed, clean, and neatly folded.

She had taken a bath and changed into her nightgown. The style was from before—light and smooth, with two twisted knot buttons at the collar. Plum Flower Nine Lady liked this style and once told her that those pullover clothes, stiff and requiring struggles to put on, didn’t look like what a young lady should wear.

Perhaps this was more fitting for a young lady—fresh from bathing, with long flowing hair, the two panels of her gown lightly covering her, delicate fingers fastening the exquisite buttons.

She put on her outer garment and went out to check if Luo Ren and Cao Yanhua had settled in. Passing by the triangular waterside pavilion in the back courtyard, she saw Senior Brother Zheng Mingshan squatting on the stone step by the water, clutching a steamed bun and occasionally tossing pieces to tease the fish.

Mu Dai asked him if Luo Ren’s bedding situation had been taken care of. He lazily replied: “It’s not a hotel room; having a bed board to sleep on is good enough—there are no other rooms. If you’re so concerned, let your little lover have your room.”

Mu Dai lifted her chin and said, “Fine, I will.”

Zheng Mingshan didn’t look at her, making clicking sounds with his mouth to attract the fish, though his words were meant for her: “That’s why they say a married daughter is like spilled water. You’re not even married yet, but your heart has already shifted.”

…

Luo Ren seemed trapped in a nightmare, impossible to wake. Mu Dai grew concerned and leaned over to shake him: “Luo Xiaodao?”

She saw Luo Ren open his eyes briefly, then close them again as if exhausted.

Was he sick? Mu Dai hesitantly reached out to touch his forehead.

Suddenly, Luo Ren extended his arm, grabbed her waist, and pulled her onto the bed, flipping her over and pinning her to the wooden planks.

Startled, she pushed against him, saying: “Luo Xiaodao, are you awake?”

She spoke softly, probably aware that old houses had thin walls and fearing she might wake Cao Yanhua next door.

But Luo Ren paid no attention. Lowering his head, he sealed her lips firmly while his hand slipped inside her clothes, directly seeking the softness of her chest.

Mu Dai’s entire body trembled for a moment. For an instant, she struggled more intensely, which only triggered a fiercer advance from him. Luo Ren couldn’t explain it clearly himself; he only felt that tonight his emotions were in such turmoil that he couldn’t find an outlet. When she appeared, she became his lifeline.

She asked if he was awake. He didn’t want to wake up—waking meant putting on layer after layer of clothing, becoming that seemingly gentle and restrained Luo Ren, that “Brother Luo” who could calmly solve all problems in Cao Yanhua’s eyes. He wasn’t that good; he was stupid enough to lead all his brothers to their deaths. He had found a pure, lovely girlfriend whose life was completely different from his, hoping to borrow a bit of her light, pretending he didn’t live in darkness…

He didn’t want to wake up. This was so much better—the whole world gone: Blue Wood, Leopard, Tasha, and those damn evil bamboo slips. There was only the girl in his arms, smooth and soft. He didn’t have to think about anything, just follow his own heart’s desire, doing as he pleased in his paradise.

Luo Ren could barely control his desire, but for some unknown reason, he suddenly opened his eyes and saw Mu Dai in his arms.

Her hair was disheveled, and she seemed dazed. Her collar half-open revealed fair skin with a soft glow. Her lips were parted, moist and delicate.

Luo Ren’s throat went dry as he reached out to caress her lips. Mu Dai stared at him, gently touching the corner of his eye—it was wet.

In a hoarse voice, she asked: “Did you have a nightmare about… the Philippines?”

Luo Ren said, “Why did you come?”

Why did I come? Yes, what was my initial reason? Mu Dai actually couldn’t remember.

Luo Ren reached out to undo the knot buttons of her clothes. After unfastening one, he slipped his hand in, grabbed the edge of her garment, and pulled. The silk nightgown slid over her skin, dropping directly from her shoulders to her waist. The sudden exposure left Mu Dai flustered, instinctively covering her chest with her hands.

Luo Ren smiled slightly, holding her waist with one hand and turning her body, embracing her from behind. He kissed her neck and back, her hair falling across her back as he kissed through it, even biting her. The hand at her waist slowly moved downward.

His touch grew increasingly intense. Mu Dai couldn’t withstand it. In their previous intimate moments, Luo Ren had always been gentle and restrained, unlike tonight, like a completely different person.

Luo Ren’s hand slid to her thigh. Mu Dai felt the taut string inside her about to snap as she trembled, calling out to him: “Luo Ren.”

Luo Ren made a sound of acknowledgment. After a moment, he gripped her shoulder, turning her to face him.

Her gaze was evasive, with a few strands of hair stuck to her forehead with fine sweat. Her skin was flushed like fire, her breathing rapid. Her delicate neck rose and fell slightly, her hands still protecting her chest.

Her body slightly curled, looking completely his, unable to escape or leave, every strand of hair belonging to him.

“Did you have a nightmare about… Tasha?”

Strange, why did she insist on knowing?

He answered: “Yes.”

She raised her eyelids, biting her lip as she looked at him: “Does doing this make you feel better?”

What did she mean by “this”? The pleasure of the bed?

Luo Ren said, “If I say yes, are you willing?”

Pressed against her body, he felt her entire frame tense in that instant.

After a while, she slowly removed her hands from her chest.

She looked at him once, then closed her eyes. Her long lashes trembled continuously as she said softly: “Luo Ren, it’s my first time, please be gentle.”

A strange feeling rose in Luo Ren’s heart. He looked down at Mu Dai, so close he could see the root of each eyelash and every subtle movement of her muscles as she breathed rapidly.

His hand reached around her back, forcefully gripping her waist. She bit her lip, restraining herself from moving or opening her eyes.

Luo Ren suddenly remembered the first time he saw her in Chongqing, how she had firmly placed a chair on the ground and sat down.

He remembered giving her his number, how she had turned crimson with anger and shouldered past him.

Back then, he never imagined that one day they would be so intimate.

He had always thought Mu Dai was just a simple young girl, but thinking carefully, she had always been brave in matters of the heart.

Luo Ren felt ashamed. This evening, he had desperately sought an outlet for his agitation, while she slowly removed her hands and said: “It’s my first time, please be gentle.”

He had merely sought a release valve, but she had offered him all the dream-world aspirations that a young girl has for love.

Luo Ren sat up, holding Mu Dai.

Mu Dai opened her eyes in surprise as Luo Ren pulled her clothes back up, carefully fastening the buttons and tidying her disheveled hair.

Mu Dai didn’t understand what had come over him and suddenly blushed at her behavior: what had she just said? Had she voluntarily offered herself to a man?

Too embarrassed to face him, she moved away slightly, shuffling to sit farther from him.

Luo Ren said, “I don’t know what customs your martial lineage has, but would it be alright if I directly propose marriage to your master Plum Flower Nine Lady when I meet her tomorrow?”

“Huh?”

Caught off guard, Mu Dai didn’t know how to react.

Luo Ren smiled: “You don’t want to?”

She stammered: “It’s not that… but, so soon?”

“Is it too soon? Sooner or later, you’ll still be with me. I’ve already taken all the advantages.”

Mu Dai began to smile. Thinking of what he was implying, her cheeks grew warm. Luo Ren put his arm around her, lowering his head to kiss her brow: “But I have one condition.”

He has conditions? Isn’t that backward? Shouldn’t she be the one setting terms and putting on airs at this moment?

“Mu Dai, I’m not taking you back to Lijiang. You and Cao Yanhua will follow Senior Brother and find a safe place to hide.”

Mu Dai’s heart tensed, and she instinctively sat upright: “Why?”

“A leopard has entered the country. Blue Wood and I need to do some things, and having you with me would be distracting.”

Mu Dai laughed angrily: “How do you know I’ll distract you? How do you know I can’t help?”

“Because Leopard will target you, absolutely target you.”

She knew how to deal with him—cutting away the people he cared about one by one, like gradually carving pieces from his heart.

Years ago, determined to avenge Tasha with a resolve to die if necessary, he had arranged for all his brothers to get drunk, fearing they would stop him. But the next morning, when he opened the door with his equipment packed, he froze in surprise.

They were all there, having risen earlier than him, as if the alcohol he’d arranged the night before hadn’t affected them at all.

They stood carrying their gear, smiling at him, saying the same thing:

—Luo, count me in.

—Count me in, too.

After a fierce battle, out of eleven men, nine were lost. Blue Wood risked his life to bring the severely wounded Luo Ren back to China, settling him in a border rental room. In his hazy consciousness, blood frothing from his mouth, Luo Ren smiled at Blue Wood: “Why did you bring me back? I should have died there.”

This life felt stolen or borrowed, weightless and ready to be given up at any time, just as initially he had even considered transferring the evil bamboo slip from Pin Ting’s body to his own—at worst, it would only mean death.

“Mu Dai, as long as you’re safe, as long as you’re well, I’ll do everything possible to stay alive.”

Living for someone is harder than dying for them. Death is an instant, bearing no responsibility. Life is countless moments, carrying everything for your sake.

“Don’t laugh at me. Call it selfishness if you will. By asking you to live, I want myself to live. Please listen, will you?”