Changling instinctively leaped into the air. Due to a trace of nervousness in her heart, she channeled too much qi. The two soldiers who had just climbed the mountain saw a white figure flash across the pitch-black sky like a ghost before vanishing without a trace.
Above the dome, on the frozen wasteland among withered trees, with gusts of cold wind—it was clearly a night when wandering ghosts crossed over.
The two soldiers trembled as they looked at each other’s pale green faces and cried out in unison: “A ghost—!”
The two of them fled, tumbling and crawling away.
In the forest, the one who had been called a ghost hung by both hands from the tree canopy. Unable to support her weight any longer, she suddenly let go and fell to the ground. The pain made her rub her knees involuntarily.
The dignified Second Young Master Yue had actually fallen into such an embarrassing sprawl just to avoid two lowly soldiers. If anyone who knew her were present at this moment, they would surely laugh their heads off. But on second thought, with her current delicate and dainty appearance, if someone could actually recognize her, that would truly be seeing a ghost.
Changling supported her waist and limped back to the cave.
Her internal energy had indeed not dissipated in the slightest, but her physical constitution had regressed overnight to that of her childhood—no, perhaps even worse than a young child’s. This was equivalent to holding a sword without a handle; no matter how sharp the blade, it could not be wielded. To force it would be no different from digging one’s own grave.
Changling figured that once she could walk properly, she would need to run several laps around Yan Huishan daily. From the tone of those two soldiers, it seemed Yan Huishan had some kind of ghost story associated with it. No wonder no one had discovered Chu Tiansu’s hidden beauty in the ice cave for over ten years.
However, in the past two days, someone seemed to have noticed something amiss. She wondered if this would have any impact on the old lady.
Changling’s guess was correct.
For the next two days, Chu Tiansu did not come up the mountain to find her. Although Changling was worried, Mu Wangbao was vast with many people, and she didn’t even know whether people lived in the south or north. Going down the mountain rashly would be of no help.
This Yan Huishan peak soared into the clouds, so naturally there was nothing to eat at the summit. Fortunately, below the mountainside, the forest was dense with babbling streams, and by catching small fish and water frogs, she could fill her stomach.
After two more days passed this way, although Changling’s legs and feet could not be described as light as a swallow, she could move normally. She thoroughly explored every inch of Yan Huishan, from top to bottom, and gained a general understanding of the mountain’s terrain and everything visible from it.
The labor at Mu Wangbao primarily consisted of mining coal, with farming and harvesting as secondary work, divided into eastern and southern districts. The west bordered an endless mountain range, mostly for logging and such. The east contained the prison cells and soldiers’ quarters. Beyond that, she couldn’t see clearly, but felt that an area of several dozen li seemed to be Mu Wangbao’s territory, and outside the fortress was even more desolate wilderness. She had no idea how far the nearest village was.
The world called this place the dwelling of demons and asuras, and Changling deeply agreed. Not only did the soldiers not treat prisoners as human beings, but the prisoners were even more cruel to each other in order to survive. Every day during meal distribution, people were beaten to death fighting over food. Those too timid to fight had no strength to work and ultimately could not escape the fate of being whipped to death.
On the fifth day of Chu Tiansu’s disappearance, while Changling was catching fish by the stream at the foot of the mountain, she happened to see a group of soldiers leading seven or eight prisoners past. She hid in the bushes and peered through the gaps. She saw that each of those prisoners wore a black iron helmet on their head, with only their eyes, ears, and nose exposed. Their hands and feet were all shackled with extremely heavy chains. Every step was difficult, while the soldiers behind them cracked whips to drive them forward. She had no idea where they were taking these people.
Changling thought to herself: Mu Wangbao has such tight security, why would they need to lock people up like this? Could they be some kind of supreme masters?
Suddenly, a tall prisoner at the end of the line went mad and tried to break free from the iron chains. The soldiers swarmed forward trying to subdue him. The iron-masked man leaped into the air, sweeping his shackles horizontally and knocking down several soldiers with one swing.
The remaining soldiers were greatly alarmed. Seeing that the iron-masked man was about to attack again with fierce momentum, they were on the verge of fleeing in panic. Just at that moment, a short arrow shot with perfect accuracy toward the iron-masked man’s back. After being struck by the arrow, he immediately fell to the ground convulsing continuously—his ears turning red one moment, then pale as death the next. Before long, he stopped moving.
Changling focused her gaze and saw that the archer was a young man dressed in tight-fitting clothes. He stood far away in a corner. After shooting the arrow, he didn’t go to handle the situation, just stood there leisurely. She didn’t know what his status was in this fortress.
She knew she shouldn’t linger and quietly returned to the ice cave.
The wilderness at night was adorned with stars like brocade across the sky.
Seeing that Chu Tiansu still hadn’t appeared, Changling finally couldn’t restrain herself and wanted to go down the mountain to investigate. Just as she was about to set out, she suddenly saw a black-clad person standing outside the cave. Before Changling could make a move, that person immediately removed their black cloth mask and said in a hoarse voice: “It’s me.”
It was Chu Tiansu.
She covered her left shoulder with one hand. A feathered arrow had pierced her shoulder, and her garment was soaked through with dark blood. Her other hand held a bamboo basket filled with various herbs, all looking freshly picked.
Changling was startled and hurried forward to support her. Seeing Chu Tiansu’s face alternating between red and white, with her limbs slightly trembling and shaking, Changling involuntarily thought of the iron-masked man she had seen that morning. “You’ve been poisoned? Should I use the Nanhua needle technique to expel the poison?”
Chu Tiansu waved her hand. She leaned against the stone wall and sat on the ground, closed her eyes and took several trembling breaths. Suddenly her eyes opened wide. She grabbed three types of herbs from the basket and arranged them from left to right, saying: “Help Grandma brew an antidote, quickly!”
An antidote?
Right, Chu Tiansu was proficient in medical principles. She knew what poison she had been struck with and could formulate an antidote—that wasn’t strange at all.
Changling immediately took the herbs and put them in a pot. She brewed the medicine with warm water. After Chu Tiansu took it, in less than the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, her convulsions eased considerably.
Before Changling could ask for the reason, Chu Tiansu spoke first: “Changling… Grandma has a request. This remaining half pot of antidote, Grandma wants to ask you to deliver it into the dungeon and give it to someone to drink.”
“The dungeon?” Changling was suddenly alarmed. “Who?”
Chu Tiansu raised her head with difficulty, her eyes bloodshot: “A prisoner wearing an iron skull… my grandson.”
After curfew at Mu Wangbao, all prisoners and slaves were escorted back to their cells. Usually at this hour, even ordinary servants didn’t dare move about. Two teams of soldiers in the fortress held torches and patrolled in different directions. After working hard all day, they were inevitably lazy. After going through the motions once, they would sit down for a chat and pass the night that way.
Before going down the mountain, Changling had prepared herself mentally to fight through five checkpoints and defeat six generals. She hadn’t expected these guards to be so lax. Moreover, there were wild grass and bushes everywhere in the fortress for cover. After knocking out one soldier and changing into his clothes, she swaggered all the way to the prison gate without obstruction. It was so smooth it was almost unbelievable.
She couldn’t help thinking that if these were her military camp’s men, without a word, they would all be dragged out to receive fifty military lashes before any discussion.
Changling hid in the forest and memorized once more by moonlight the prison layout Chu Tiansu had given her.
In fact, she wasn’t certain which cell Chu Tiansu’s grandson was being held in.
Chu Tiansu only said that her grandson had suddenly become an iron-masked prisoner at Mu Wangbao, poisoned with Three Souls and Three Spirits Scatter. If he didn’t take the antidote in time, he would go mad and die.
Before she left, Chu Tiansu had hesitated, wanting to speak but stopping. She knew that suddenly asking Changling to infiltrate the dungeon was really asking too much, but being seriously injured herself, she had no other options and could only beg Changling to take this risk for her.
Changling didn’t mind at all and didn’t even ask an extra question. After listening, she was already seventy percent certain that the iron-masked man she had seen this morning was precisely the grandson Chu Tiansu spoke of.
Mu Wangbao’s prison had over a thousand cells, imprisoning all kinds of prisoners. The main prison gate had only one iron fence.
There were four jailers on night duty at the main gate, changing shifts every two hours. By the hour of chou, the two newly on duty hadn’t slept enough. After exchanging a few words, they plopped down by a pillar and went to catch up on sleep.
The other two were also drowsy. They were covering their mouths yawning and hadn’t yet straightened up when they suddenly heard rustling sounds from the bushes. The two exchanged wary glances, both raising the iron implements in their hands and slowly walking toward the bushes.
When they got closer to look, two mice jumped out. Only then did the two breathe a sigh of relief. One laughed: “We’ve really been made paranoid lately.”
“Indeed. Our dungeon is like an iron barrel—would anyone actually dare to break in at night?”
The two bantered back and forth, completely unaware that in just that brief round trip, someone had indeed slipped silently into their supposedly iron-clad prison.
This wasn’t Changling’s first time infiltrating an enemy camp. She had once spent two whole months learning lockpicking skills just to infiltrate an enemy camp. Unfortunately, this time she didn’t have a disguise expert by her side, or there would have been no need to take such risks.
Mu Wangbao’s prison had two levels, forming four corners and eight corridors, with oil lamps hung on the walls every ten steps. The upper level held ordinary criminals, while those who committed serious crimes and murdered like hemp were undoubtedly imprisoned in the lowest dungeon, also called the Tiger’s Den—dug several feet underground, never seeing daylight, with even jailers unwilling to stay long except to deliver food.
As Chu Tiansu had said, if her grandson was made to wear an iron skull, he would most likely be confined in the Tiger’s Den.
Changling pulled down the brim of her hat and walked through the corridor at a moderate pace. Dressed in a jailer’s uniform, she wasn’t very clear in the dim light. Most prisoners were asleep, and even if someone saw her, they didn’t become suspicious.
Changling walked at a moderate pace toward the dungeon.
As soon as she entered, a damp, bloody smell assaulted her nose. Rats, cockroaches, centipedes crawled and scurried on the ground. There were no lamps or candles ahead—a long corridor with no visible end, like a lifeless hell.
Changling grasped the torch from the corner of the wall and slowly paced deeper inside.
The dungeon was deathly silent. Each cell held only one iron-masked person. They lay motionless on their beds—whether asleep or truly dead was unclear.
Changling walked extremely slowly, pretending to casually sweep her gaze across each cell. Although the man she saw today was tall, all these people were curled up lying down and wearing iron helmets, making it really difficult to distinguish differences.
Fortunately, she had noticed one detail this morning: besides having skin fairer than the average iron-masked person, that man had part of a tattoo exposed at his elbow—a dragon beast.
Chu Tiansu had also mentioned this characteristic.
Though she vaguely felt she had seen this totem somewhere before.
The thought passed in an instant, and she had already reached the two cells at the very end of the corridor.
One cell was empty, with a set of shackles and an iron mask still lying on the ground. Directly opposite, half the view through the iron bars was blocked by an earthen wall. Changling took two more steps forward and extended the torch to illuminate—a person covered in wounds lay with his back to the door on a wooden plank bed, the tattoo above his right elbow appearing and disappearing in the dim light.
It was him.
Changling collected herself and quickly pulled out the wire from her sleeve. In no time, she picked the cell lock, pushed open the door, and slowly stepped into the cell.
His breathing was even, seeming to still be in deep sleep.
Changling walked to his side and leaned in to look. His entire body had been whipped until the skin was torn and flesh exposed. Several wounds still oozed pus and blood, with many small flying insects circling around his wounds—both disgusting and horrifying.
Changling took out the bottle containing the antidote from her pouch. Just as she was about to open the medicine cap, she suddenly felt a tightness around her neck. A powerful force struck her chest, and her whole body was heavily slammed against the stone wall.
The torch dropped to the ground with a thud. Changling’s eyes flew wide open. She saw that beneath the iron mask, those pitch-black and sharp eyes were staring fixedly at her. That person used his elbow to lock around her neck, applying more and more force, strangling her until she couldn’t breathe at all.
He wasn’t unconscious!
Changling instinctively struck her palm toward his chest, but her body hadn’t recovered. Forget about knocking him down—she probably couldn’t even pry open one of his fingers.
In this critical moment, Changling produced an object from her sleeve and waved it in front of him—the iron-masked man’s form suddenly froze upon seeing it, then slowly released his hands.
It was a woven grass python. Chu Tiansu had said when giving it to her that her grandson would understand upon seeing it.
Changling hadn’t expected this person to still have such skills despite his injuries. She coughed a few times and finally caught her breath. Seeing the iron-masked man scrutinizing her with a puzzled gaze, she lowered her voice: “Chu Tiansu, Old Lady Chu sent me to rescue you.”
The iron-masked man, upon hearing the three words “Chu Tiansu,” swayed slightly in form. But the mask only revealed a pair of eyes and a mouth. Changling couldn’t make out his reaction. Seeing him remain silent, thinking he still had doubts about her, she was about to explain when she suddenly heard several hurried footsteps in the distance. A jailer was fawning: “Sir, the person you’re looking for is in the last cell at the end of that passage.”
Changling suddenly raised her head. Who would choose this hour to visit the prison?
The footsteps drew nearer and nearer, about three or four people walking this way. Changling was hesitating whether she could take out all the visitors when the iron-masked man quickly stamped out the torch on the ground, swiftly fastened the cell lock, and pushed her into a corner of the wall—
The visitors had arrived at the cell door. The iron-masked man was about to return to the plank bed when he glanced at the person before the cell and froze for an instant. The next moment, he fiercely lunged forward, but the barrier of the door blocked his momentum. He gripped the iron bars tightly with both hands, and in an instant, two bars were bent slightly by him, frightening the jailers into retreating repeatedly, as if worried he would immediately break through the door and tear them all to pieces.
The iron-masked man looked at the visitor as fiercely as a vicious wolf, making “heh heh” sounds from his throat.
Changling’s gaze shifted. Where she stood was a blind spot—she could see neither the cell door nor who exactly the visitor was. She held her breath and concentrated, only hearing a young man’s voice say: “No need to worry, this is all the ability he has left.”
The speaker’s words were clear and precise, unlike the others here who spoke crudely and harshly. Her brows furrowed slightly, and she instinctively felt this person’s identity was not to be underestimated.
Of course Changling couldn’t see that the visitor wore red robes and brocade garments, with a piece of mutton-fat white jade tied at his waist—extraordinarily noble. He stood with hands behind his back. Seeing the iron-masked man’s extended hand only inches away from him, he didn’t care in the slightest. He tilted his head toward the guard and jailer beside him, indicating they should withdraw. “I have words to speak with him alone.”
The guard hesitated for a moment, hung the oil lamp in his hand on the wall bracket, turned and withdrew. Seeing them leave, the visitor then re-examined the iron-masked man’s wounds all over his body from top to bottom. A trace of an eerie smile floated at the corner of his eyes. “Third Brother, we haven’t seen each other for several days. How does it feel to be a prisoner?”
The iron-masked man’s lips trembled as he opened his mouth but couldn’t produce any sound. Seeing this, that person made a pretense of sudden realization and clapped his hands laughing: “Right, I forgot you can’t speak. Usually you’re so eloquent, but now that it’s suddenly quiet here, it makes Second Brother unaccustomed to it.”
Changling was stunned.
Second Brother?
“You needn’t look at me like that. I came to see you one last time. If you’re to leave, you shouldn’t leave too silently and without notice.”
The iron-masked man vigorously shook the prison door several times, his eyes filled with surging murderous intent. If gazes could materialize, the person opposite would have been riddled with a thousand holes.
That person turned sideways with hands behind his back, no longer pretending, and sneered coldly: “No use wasting your energy. Wearing this iron skull, even if those brave and loyal generals of yours stood before you, they wouldn’t recognize you… Hehe, now everyone is searching for your whereabouts in the capital city. Who could possibly think that the dignified Great Yan’s… I’m afraid even you yourself can’t figure out which step went wrong to end up in such a miserable state, right?” He paused here but omitted the iron-masked man’s title. Changling’s mind stirred, and she heard that person continue slowly: “It doesn’t hurt to tell you the truth. The person cooperating with me this time is He Jinzhi of Eastern Xia Kingdom. Of all people to offend, you had to offend him. Alas, so don’t blame Second Brother for going with the flow and selling this favor to him—”
That person paced back and forth before the cell door a few times. “What use is knowing the truth now? You’ve been poisoned with Three Souls and Three Spirits Scatter anyway. After tonight, you won’t even remember who you are…”
The iron-masked man breathed heavily, his focused gaze gradually scattering. The iron helmet mask could no longer conceal the despair emanating from his entire being.
“In consideration of our brotherhood, I’ll arrange for someone to leave you a complete corpse. Oh, of course, if the lord of Mu Wangbao learns your identity, then I can’t guarantee he won’t desecrate your corpse…”
That person finished speaking and looked up laughing. When he turned around, the smile on his face suddenly vanished.
The iron-masked man tried to reach out to grab him. He snorted contemptuously and walked away. After a few steps, he looked back at the endless darkness behind him. His eyes inexplicably flashed with a trace of reluctance, but ultimately he didn’t turn his head back, only saying: “Third Brother, on the road to the Yellow Springs, if you must hate someone, hate yourself for being too arrogant, which made everyone your enemy.”