The carriages continued forward in the darkness.

Jing Hengbo, who had angrily left the carriage, squeezed into the ox cart with Cui Jie and the other two. Cui Jie’s face was pale with red eyes, the little maid was still vomiting, but Jing Jun surprisingly wasn’t dizzy. She leaned softly against the cart rail, eyes gazing skyward, lost in thought.

Only Er Gou continued his senseless chatter: “Two golden orioles sing in green willows, one lump of white meat ascends to heaven…”

Jing Hengbo felt nauseous again and grabbed its neck. Er Gou angrily trampled her chest a few times before Jing Jun intervened to rescue it.

Er Gou began rambling curses at Jing Hengbo’s ancestors—all taught by Jing Hengbo herself. It could curse for an hour without repetition…

Jing Hengbo lazily lay in the ox cart to avoid seeing the carnage below. She’d also forgotten about Jing Jun saying she felt unwell. In fact, Jing Jun now looked much better than the three of them.

The bloody stench kept drilling into her nose, impossible to escape. Jing Hengbo suddenly remembered something and rolled over to sit up.

These people had killed, so they must bury the bodies. Since they were still traveling, the burial site must be nearby. She needed to see the location so she could report it to authorities later!

This way she still had a chance to escape!

Beauty is what I desire, freedom is what I desire. Best to have both, but if beauty becomes too terrifying, abandon beauty for freedom.

Jing Hengbo crouched in the ox cart, thinking about reporting to authorities while also considering that defecting to the black-clothed State Preceptor wouldn’t be bad either—both were State Preceptors, surely they could compete.

The thin men were indeed handling the corpses right by the roadside. These people were really too bold, weren’t they?

Then Jing Hengbo’s eyes widened.

The corpses were piled together. The thin man took out a small bottle from his chest, poured out black, mud-like liquid from it, and sprinkled it on the bodies.

After that, they didn’t even bury them—just mounted their horses and left.

Jing Hengbo had never seen such brazen criminals handling aftermath.

She was pleased this would make it clearer to identify them to authorities when the ox cart driver suddenly seemed to mutter to himself: “Big brother is too cautious. For such a small thing, using so much ‘Heaven-Dissolving Mud’ is really wasteful…”

Jing Hengbo immediately asked studiously: “What’s Heaven-Dissolving Mud?”

“Your Majesty,” the fat man said the words “Your Majesty” even more casually than Gong Yin, “this is something unique to our region. Within and beyond Dahuang’s borders, stretching thousands of li, are various marshlands with different functions. Some can cure diseases, some can cultivate precious plants, some can make poison. Heaven-Dissolving Mud, as the name suggests, can dissolve any object under heaven.”

“Corpse-dissolving powder!”

“What’s that?” The fat man had actually heard this term and dismissed it disdainfully. “Corpse-dissolving powder can only dissolve bodies, and where bodies are dissolved, no grass grows and snakes and insects avoid it—problems are easily spotted. Our Heaven-Dissolving Mud needs only a tiny bit to slowly expand and cover, dissolving objects within a three-zhang radius beneath, then transforming into normal soil. Whatever should grow will grow—even immortals couldn’t find traces!”

Jing Hengbo drew a sharp breath.

Dahuang’s mystique was world-famous. For so many years, not a single person knew this country’s exact location, appearance, government system, or population size. The endless terrifying marshlands blocked the world’s investigating gaze.

So this country left other nations with impressions of being “ignorant, backward, isolationist, poor and uncivilized.”

Was this really the case?

Which aspect of these people’s clothing, behavior, or conduct resembled ignorant barbarians?

The fat man’s words weren’t just casual talk—they were warning her not to harbor scheming thoughts.

Jing Hengbo sighed and stopped bothering to remember locations, lying back down.

Now she felt fighting poison with poison was the only method. The black-clothed State Preceptor and Gong Yin were both State Preceptors. The former had clearly reached San Shui but didn’t appear; instead Gong Yin took her away, then they were ambushed. Nine times out of ten this was related to the black-clothed State Preceptor.

Gong Yin’s cruel methods were meant to intimidate. He knew who had acted, so he needed no interrogation and left no survivors.

So before escaping, she’d better pray she wouldn’t become cannon fodder in the struggle between two tigers…

The cart suddenly stopped again. Jing Hengbo sat up and saw an abandoned house ahead—apparently built by local farmers to guard their fields.

Gong Yin had actually gotten out and sat before the house with a silk scroll on his knees. It was actually bright yellow.

The four sitting in the ox cart were sore all over and hurried down to walk around. The thin man and his men had already cleaned the house and started a fire inside.

Jing Hengbo walked past Gong Yin with her chest out, her peripheral vision catching his seat mat—simple but stunningly beautiful with white base and black satin trim. From afar it looked like a thin cloud, lustrous and translucent in moonlight and firelight. The black-haired man in snow-white robes sitting on it increasingly resembled a banished immortal. Even this broken house and sandy ground gained distinctive rustic charm from his hidden noble aura.

When Jing Jun passed Jing Hengbo, she stumbled slightly. Entering the house, she nervously grabbed Jing Hengbo’s arm: “Ivory mat! He’s using an ivory mat made exclusively as tribute! Heavens! He must be royalty!”

Jing Jun looked excited, her pale face flashing with bright red light. Jing Hengbo patted her shoulder: “He might indeed be royalty, but I think he’s more likely a bandit who robbed royal tribute.”

The color drained from Jing Jun’s face, then she shrieked: “Impossible! How could someone like him be a bandit!”

Her voice was piercing. Jing Hengbo jumped in fright, puzzled as she touched her head worriedly: “Are you sick?”

Jing Jun froze, gradually calming, forcing a smile: “Yes… I’m a bit uneasy.”

Jing Hengbo tenderly touched her face, then said to Cui Jie: “Sorry for dragging you into this. But we sisters still need to think of a way to escape!”

Cui Jie seemed still traumatized by the bloody scene, asking quietly: “How did you provoke such people? Where are they from? Also, I think I heard them calling you Your Majesty?” At the last question her eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe her own ears.

Jing Hengbo was about to answer when the thin man entered carrying several sets of clothes: “Please change your attire.” He said to a short youth behind him: “Ah Shan, please.”

The short youth raised his head, revealing large, somewhat sunken eyes. Only then did Jing Hengbo realize she was a woman disguised as a man.

This woman called Ah Shan opened a box. Jing Hengbo saw it contained various knives and scissors, gleaming coldly, and immediately broke into cold sweat: “What are you doing!”

Ah Shan didn’t answer, only smiled strangely at her. Jing Hengbo wanted to retreat, but the smile before her suddenly swayed like smoke, waves, water, and mist… Then she collapsed.

Before falling, she seemed to see Cui Jie and Jing Jun also softly falling to the ground…

Er Gouzi stared wide-eyed at the four women who suddenly collapsed, then after a moment suddenly understood, tilted his head, and dramatically screeched “Ah!” before falling onto Jing Hengbo’s chest.

Someone slowly entered, gently picked up Er Gouzi. Er Gouzi opened one eye to peek, then quickly closed it.

It was afraid.

Gong Yin lifted Er Gouzi. It became even more nervous, claws tightly gripping Jing Hengbo’s chest clothing, causing certain undulations to sway…

Gong Yin’s gaze naturally fell and lingered, then quickly turned away. His fingertip flicked, Er Gou screamed, and a bird feather fell on Jing Hengbo’s chest clothing.

Gong Yin turned with Er Gou in hand, his peripheral vision catching the spring scene on the ground. Someone’s clothing always wished for lower necklines and higher slits. Now naturally the embroidered low neckline half-revealed snowy jade, a golden-red-green bird feather fallen on that snowy expanse below her neck, trembling with her breathing but not falling…

Truly a beautiful scene…

Gong Yin’s fingers holding the bird seemed to tighten, then walked out amid Er Gou’s squeaking cries.

“Begin,” he said.

…

When Jing Hengbo opened her eyes, she saw herself.

“Herself” was holding a large bowl, slurping food noisily, chopsticks falling like raindrops, shoveling rice like a tornado.

Jing Hengbo held her aching head. Oh, she must have had too many nightmares and was seeing ghosts.

Turning again, she saw another “herself” diagonally across, frail and leaning against a pillar, holding chopsticks and sighing in distress at her bowl.

Jing Hengbo was distressed too.

Was the dream still ongoing? This dream was too magical, showing two selves that were absolutely unlike herself.

She never wolfed down food or picked at it. She chewed slowly and carefully, drank soup silently, and ate with grace.

A steaming bowl was placed before her containing fragrant chicken silk porridge. The rich aroma filled her nose, her stomach began rumbling songs, and she realized this wasn’t a dream.

Touching her face, feeling dryness, Jing Hengbo turned to ask a nearby woman: “Do you have a mirror?”

A small bronze mirror was passed over. The reflection was herself yet not quite—three points uglier than herself. Looking carefully at the other two across, they had the same rough-by-three-points version of Jing Hengbo’s appearance.

“Your Majesty’s appearance is too beautiful. Ah Shan is incompetent and cannot disguise to match Your Majesty, so I had to alter Your Majesty’s appearance slightly.”

Right, this girl was skilled at disguise. But disguise could hardly achieve identical effects, so she simply modified her appearance slightly. Complete disguise as a specific person might be difficult, but creating three similar faces wasn’t hard.

Those two “Jing Hengbos” across must be Cui Jie and Jing Jun.

But what was the point of this?

The next day while traveling, Jing Hengbo understood the point.

Because at night, while traveling through wilderness, enemies came again.

They were foreigners in large numbers, unsuitable for staying in city inns, so they always took wilderness paths. Therefore nighttime was most dangerous.

Last night’s brutal killing of prisoners hadn’t scared those people off. When camping at midnight, Gong Yin ordered Jing Hengbo, Cui Jie, and Jing Jun to sleep in one tent.

Sleeping until midnight, Jing Hengbo was dreaming of howling winds and roaring waves. Atop black wave crests stood a figure in white robes connecting deep sea and moonlight. He pointed, suddenly holding a long blade that tore heaven and earth with a “chi” sound—

The “chi” sound was right beside her ear. Jing Hengbo’s eyes snapped open to see the tent splitting, blade light flooding in like snow, behind it an expressionless face.

Jing Hengbo sat up abruptly. Jing Jun screamed and hid behind her while Cui Jie remained drowsily unaware of what was happening.

The person who’d split the tent and poked his head in reached to grab but saw three identical faces and froze.

Just this freeze, then behind him came a heavy thud as something struck his back hard, bending his spine. His expression stiffened as he spat blood over Cui Jie’s knees.

Then he collapsed askew at the opening, tearing the tent further before a guard silently dragged him away.

Jing Hengbo peered out through the gap and saw several people fleeing into the wilderness. Gong Yin’s guards were wounded again, more than last time, but still those neither-light-nor-heavy minor injuries.

Jing Hengbo turned back to meet Jing Jun’s terrified eyes. She seemed to finally understand the disguise’s purpose and suddenly pulled out a handkerchief.

Jing Hengbo raised her eyebrows without stopping her. She also felt having Jing Jun and Cui Jie as her doubles was too much. Just now Jing Jun had slept at the tent’s outer edge and nearly been captured.

If she wanted to wipe off the disguise, let her.

But Cui Jie stared at Jing Jun’s handkerchief: “What are you doing?”

Jing Jun lowered her eyes, ignoring her, and was about to go out with the handkerchief when she suddenly paused at the tent entrance, then returned to sit down. She used the handkerchief to wipe Cui Jie’s temples, smiling: “Sister Cui was frightened just now? Look at all this sweat.”

“Do I have sweat?” Cui Jie touched her forehead in confusion. Jing Jun smiled at her, and Cui Jie smiled back.

Jing Hengbo didn’t notice Jing Jun’s change of behavior, only instinctively turned back to see a white figure standing quietly three steps from the tent. Seeing her peek out, the white figure paused and turned away.

“How inexplicable!” Jing Hengbo cursed and snapped the tent flap shut.