Qiu Xinran was awakened the next day by bird calls from outside. Upon waking, she momentarily couldn’t remember where she was, in a daze thinking she was still in the mountains. She opened her eyes and sat up, remembering that before sleeping last night she’d left a crack in the window open—she didn’t know who had closed it in the middle of the night. The room was very quiet. She sat on the bed, just staring blankly at the window frame for quite a while.
Suddenly there was a soft rustling sound. Qiu Xinran was startled and turned her head, only to discover someone was actually sitting at the small table not far away. Seeing her turn her head, the other person also put down the cup in hand and looked up at her.
“Xia Xiuyan?” The person sitting on the bed was stunned, showing a somewhat confused expression. Xia Xiuyan’s eyebrows rose slightly. This was the first time he’d heard her call him by his full name like this, and he knew her brain hadn’t fully awakened yet after just waking up.
The little Daoist wore a snow-white inner garment, a plain face, with hair hanging loose, sitting cross-legged on the bed. The quilt was piled messily at her waist. Like a small beast completely without defenses, she looked around confusedly at her surroundings, without a hint of wariness or aggression.
Xia Xiuyan made eye contact with her for a moment, then was the first to look away: “To my face it’s one young master or marquis after another—so this is what you call me behind my back.”
Hearing this, Qiu Xinran’s pupils suddenly contracted. Like a basin of cold water had been poured over her head, she finally woke up completely. She stared wide-eyed at the man sitting not far away in light robes and loose belt. After a long while, she finally found her voice: “Mar… Marquis…”
“Still not getting up?”
Qiu Xinran showed an embarrassed expression and instinctively pulled up the quilt piled at her waist. Xia Xiuyan’s gaze paused. He looked away, stood up, and walked toward the door: “Get up and wash. The boat family has prepared breakfast.”
The breakfast on the passenger boat was prepared very simply—just plain congee and small dishes. Even so, Qiu Xinran still slurped down two bowls. She felt today was obviously better than when she’d just boarded yesterday. Probably because they’d passed that earlier section, the river surface had opened up and the boat moved more slowly. Or perhaps it was because she was gradually getting used to life on the boat.
During leisure time, Xia Xiuyan would often go to the deck and deliberately interact with the boat’s passengers. Most on board were merchants going into the mountains. After observing them all around, he didn’t discover any hidden experts. Many people came to ask him about the current market for medicinal herbs. There were also busybodies who obliquely inquired about his relationship with the woman in the room, assuming she was a concubine he’d bought somewhere. When Qiu Xinran came out for air, she heard him tell someone: “My humble wife has a lively nature. Every time I go out, she insists on coming along, which is why I bring her every time.” His words were quite helpless, and he said it quite convincingly.
That afternoon, the sky was gloomy. A few muffled thunderclaps came from the distance, and the passengers on the boat all returned to their rooms. Before long, heavy rain began falling from the sky.
Qiu Xinran sat barefoot on the bed, leaning against the window watching the rain beat against the river surface outside. Distant green mountains were shrouded in a curtain of rain and mist. It was as if the boat traveling on the river existed in a world reduced to just this tiny corner, and in this tiny corner, only the two people sharing the room remained.
Xia Xiuyan sat at the table, looking intently at a topographical map of the Lanyue River area, lost in thought. This boat was clearly full of hidden dangers—who knew how many people lurked in the shadows. Yet in this small cabin, time seemed infinitely stretched, peaceful and serene. In a trance, it truly had a bit of the flavor of an ordinary married couple in the mortal world.
The instant this thought surfaced in her mind, Qiu Xinran herself was startled by it.
The person at the table noticed her gaze and looked up with an inquiring expression. Qiu Xinran could only steel herself and make conversation for conversation’s sake: “Has the Marquis thought about the future?”
Xia Xiuyan’s expression paused, his gaze somewhat meaningful: “What do you mean?”
Qiu Xinran had originally just asked casually. Seeing him stop looking at his perfectly good topographical map after hearing this, only staring at her with a very serious expression, she couldn’t help but grow nervous too: “For example… has the Marquis thought about what will happen when you’re old?”
Xia Xiuyan hadn’t expected her to ask this. He seemed somewhat disappointed and lowered his head again: “No.”
“Why not?”
Xia Xiuyan said indifferently: “Because perhaps before I live to that time, I’ll die on the battlefield.”
Qiu Xinran hadn’t expected him to say this. She stammered: “Now that the Northwest is stable, the Marquis will live to a hundred years old.”
Xia Xiuyan smiled and asked in return: “What about when you’re old?”
“Me…” The woman sitting by the window thought seriously for a moment. He was just thinking she would probably say she’d be famous throughout the world, having earned vast wealth, when he heard her say: “I’ll probably die suddenly and alone in some unknown inn.”
Xia Xiuyan stared at her. After a while, he suddenly chuckled softly: “You dying alone, me dying young—it seems you and I are quite a match.”
When he said this, it was unclear how much he was joking. Yet the gaze with which he looked at her was very serious, causing Qiu Xinran’s heartbeat to involuntarily quicken. She turned her head again to look at the rain on the river surface, composedly changing the subject: “It’s raining outside.”
This topic change was too forced. A sound of a chair scraping the floor came from inside the room. The person originally sitting at the table seemed to stand up and walk over here. Xia Xiuyan stood behind her and actually looked seriously at the view outside the window, his words containing some teasing: “If the Daoist hadn’t mentioned it, I wouldn’t have known it was raining outside.”
When he bent down, he stood extremely close to her. Faintly, she could almost smell the incense on him. Qiu Xinran, facing the window, sat like a small mountain, immovable and absolutely refusing to turn her head. Xia Xiuyan glanced at her faintly reddening nape, straightened up, and finally let her off: “Tomorrow night the boat can reach Yuzui Gorge. That group on the boat should make some move. Keep your wits about you.”
After saying this, he turned and walked out of the room, probably to discuss countermeasures with his subordinates next door, leaving only Qiu Xinran alone facing the boat window in a daze.
Yuzui Gorge was a shallow area with gentle water flow, shaped like a fish’s mouth, hence its name.
These past few days, Xia Xiuyan had observed everyone on the boat and determined the assassins weren’t among the passengers. This boat wasn’t large and didn’t have many places to hide. There must be people ashore providing support. He’d spent these days studying the topographical map of Lanyue River, investigating several places the passenger boat passed through. Among them, the most likely was this place.
Sure enough, as the boat slowly approached the gorge entrance, there was suddenly movement outside the cabin. A dark shadow took advantage of the night to quietly sneak into the cabin, pushed open a door, and groped their way inside.
That figure had a tall build with a long saber on their back. After entering the room, they quickly closed the door, tiptoed to the bedside, drew the long saber from their back, and slashed down at the figure on the bed with one stroke.
The blade fell, but they didn’t hear the sound of flesh separating from bone—only felt like they’d struck a soft mass of cotton wadding.
The dark shadow was greatly alarmed and immediately withdrew the blade. Behind them, fierce sword qi thrust straight at them. Precise instincts honed through countless life-and-death situations caused them to flip and roll onto the bed at the critical moment. The long sword behind them brushed past, opening a gash at their waist.
The person behind, seeing that previous kite flip had revealed their skill level, stood in silent confrontation in the pitch-black cabin, as if whoever moved first would be the first to expose a weakness.
In the end, the one who couldn’t hold out was the dark shadow half-kneeling on the bed. Injured at the waist, blood had already stained the surrounding clothing. Continuing this standoff would only deplete their strength faster, soon putting them at a disadvantage. So they could only move first—
The long saber flashed with cold light, charging straight at the opposite figure. The stroke falling had mountain-splitting force, chilling to behold. In the world, there were very few with the courage to directly face and receive this strike. In the darkness, the person’s pupils contracted. Instead of avoiding, they advanced, raising their sword directly toward the long saber. Only the sound of a tremendous collision of blade and sword rang out, almost making one mistakenly think they saw sparks flying in the darkness. Under that forceful strike, both people in the darkness felt their tiger’s mouths shake, almost unable to grip their weapons.
Immediately, both people swiftly turned, seizing the brief opening after that strike to directly attack the other’s vulnerability. Back and forth between them, after several exchanges, they were actually evenly matched. The person with the blade had an injury at the waist and abdomen affecting their movements, but their strength was enormous. Relying on what was almost hand-to-hand combat at close quarters, they could actually fight the person in the cabin to a draw.
The commotion from their fight grew louder and louder. After several rounds, the person holding the sword finally found an opportunity and kicked the long saber from the opponent’s hand to the side. The saber fell to the ground. The dark shadow’s originally continuous moves were immediately interrupted. The opponent didn’t give them any breathing room—with another turn, they kicked them down to the ground. The person on the ground moved slightly and immediately felt a cold sword point pressed against their throat.
The boat cabin returned to calm. Moonlight shone in through the gauze window, revealing the blurred features of the person under the sword. That person was about forty years old, with high brows and deep-set eyes. A hooked nose made them look fierce. A few strands of slightly curled black hair escaped from under their head wrap. The fake full beard used as disguise had fallen off, allowing one to see at a glance that they weren’t of Central Plains appearance.
Xia Xiuyan raised his eyebrows slightly but didn’t seem very surprised. He only said with mockery: “How did the eagle of the Kadabu grasslands come to play the part of a fish that slipped through the net in these rural backwaters?”
Qi Kedan lay on the ground, a pair of eyes staring straight at him: “You knew all along I was on this boat?”
“Though I guessed it was someone from Diyue, I never would have imagined the Second Prince would personally board the boat to kill me.”
“You killed Yashu?”
“You might as well go ask him this question yourself.”
Xia Xiuyan lightly flicked his wrist. The sword point flashed with compelling brilliance. He raised his hand to take his life. At this moment, thick smoke suddenly drifted in from outside. A fire had started somewhere on the boat. The guests who’d been sleeping in their rooms hastily dressed and got up. The deck was in chaos. Someone had poured oil on the boat beforehand. For a time, the fire couldn’t be extinguished and showed signs of intensifying.
The sound of fighting also came from the adjacent cabin—it should be Qi Kedan’s subordinates on the boat coming to rescue him.
The person on the ground seized the moment when he was distracted, spotted the opportunity, and immediately rolled on the ground, reaching out to grab the long saber that had been kicked aside earlier. Xia Xiuyan’s brow twitched. Just as the man was about to escape, suddenly a foot extended from the darkness and kicked that long saber into some unknown corner of the room.
After Qi Kedan had entered and fought with Xia Xiuyan for so long, he hadn’t expected there was actually a third person in this room. Seeing what had been an excellent opportunity actually blocked by someone again, he couldn’t help but become furious. He hooked his hand back to grab that person’s ankle and violently dragged them down to the ground. Only after hearing a startled cry did he discover it was actually a woman.
Qiu Xinran had originally been hiding in a corner. In her desperation, she’d revealed herself, not expecting to be captured by him instead. Qi Kedan gripped her neck and dragged her to the window, threatening Xia Xiuyan in a hoarse voice: “If you take one step forward, I’ll immediately wring her throat.”
Xia Xiuyan’s expression changed, but his tone was still relatively composed: “You think I’ll be threatened by a woman?”
A trace of doubt flashed through Qi Kedan’s features. Seeing this, Xia Xiuyan said again: “If you’re thinking of stalling for time, waiting for your subordinates on shore to come provide support, I advise you to give up this hope early. My people have already taken a boat ahead to the gorge entrance. They think you and I are on that boat. Right now, they’re probably on that boat.”
Hearing these words, the man with the fierce expression indeed showed great alarm. Just at this moment, Qiu Xinran suddenly pulled out a long arrow hidden behind her back. Taking advantage of the moment he was speaking with Xia Xiuyan, she fiercely jabbed the arrowhead into the back of his hand.
Qi Kedan hadn’t expected that such a seemingly powerless woman would actually have the courage to resist. Feeling pain for a moment, the strength gripping her neck loosened slightly. Qiu Xinran glanced at the thin boat window behind her. Her heart hardened. Not only did she not flee, but she instead tightly grasped his wrist with one hand and suddenly threw her body backward in a collision—Qi Kedan’s build was robust. This strike immediately smashed a large hole in the boat window. Then with a “splash,” the two people by the window both fell together into the Lanyue River on this summer night.