The youth was named Yue Qin, fifteen years old by East Asian reckoning. The Battle of Qiujiang was his first war since enlisting, and he had been captured in a daze.
Southern Yue was a remote vassal state in the southwest of Great Yan, known for its witchcraft and sorcery. With barren land, dense forests and swamps, and rampant poisonous insects, even in its most prosperous period, the people barely had enough to eat, let alone build national wealth. Incorporating such a place into its territory offered little benefit to Great Yan, so it had been left in peace for many years. However, unexpectedly, this generation produced a “stunningly beautiful” and “flower-shaming” holy child who could not only command insects, snakes, and fierce beasts but also summon wind and rain. When the Yan Emperor’s attempts to summon him to the capital failed, the Son of Heaven flew into a rage, resulting in millions of deaths and rivers of blood. Since then, Southern Yue has never known a day of peace.
“He’s the third prince of Yan,” Meilin said, pointing at Murong Jinghe on Yue Qin’s back. Seeing the long trail they left behind, she couldn’t help but feel irritated.
“Oh, is that so?” Yue Qin showed no surprise or hatred. Panting heavily, he carried the man on his back, gritting his teeth and stumbling forward step by step, sweat dripping into his eyes.
Meilin couldn’t bear to watch anymore, almost wanting to abandon them both and leave on her own. She couldn’t understand why this child was so stubbornly determined to save the son of the man who had destroyed his home and family. Yet she couldn’t stand his pitiful puppy-dog eyes, otherwise she would have slipped away long ago when she discovered his turtle-like pace.
“Alright, alright, put him down,” she finally said, unable to take it anymore.
“Sister…” Just as the boy was about to give her that pleading puppy-dog look again, Meilin quickly raised her hand to block the visual exchange between them.
“Don’t argue, hurry up. Don’t drag me down with you,” she said sternly, with a hint of impatience, as if ready to leave if he didn’t comply.
Hearing her words, Yue Qin had no choice but to swallow whatever he was about to say. Reluctantly, he laid Murong Jinghe down on a relatively dry patch of soft fallen leaves. They were in a Korean pine forest, where tall, straight pines reached into the clouds, interspersed with linden and fir trees. Below, old vines swayed, moss and withered ferns carpeted the ground, and pheasants lurked. The dense canopy above sheltered the ground from rain, leaving it only slightly damp.
“Go find something to fill your stomach,” Meilin said, stepping forward to carefully examine Murong Jinghe. Regardless of his injuries, he should have woken up after all this jostling. Strangely, he showed no signs of regaining consciousness.
Yue Qin, already dizzy with hunger, immediately felt relieved seeing that she wasn’t abandoning Murong Jinghe. He began searching for food nearby. The forest offered wild mushrooms, wood ear fungus, wild grapes, and jujubes on vines, as well as fallen pine nuts. A satisfying meal wasn’t hard to come by, certainly tastier than raw snake meat.
Apart from some scrapes, Murong Jinghe showed no signs of serious injury, but his complexion was alarmingly poor. Meilin felt a strange sensation and pressed her fingers to his pulse.
“You saved him, but one day he might destroy your homeland,” she said to the boy who was picking wild grapes.
Yue Qin gathered the grapes in his shirt, hungry but not eating as he picked. Hearing her words, he paused and smiled, “Sister, if we left him, he would surely die.”
Meilin turned away, no longer responding. It was completely irrelevant. However, she had to admit that the boy’s words had struck a chord, making her acknowledge his extreme regard for human life. She might not agree, but she certainly couldn’t dismiss it.
Murong Jinghe’s pulse was erratic but not weak, possibly due to internal injury or some other cause. Meilin, unfamiliar with medicine, could only confirm that something was indeed wrong with his body but was helpless to do more. Withdrawing her hand, she thought for a moment, then pressed her thumb hard on his philtrum for a while, until it left a bloody mark, but still he didn’t wake.
“What a big trouble…” she muttered, tucking his open inner garment closed before standing up to cut some long vines with her dagger.
“Sister, have some grapes!” Yue Qin ran over joyfully, his shirt full of dark wild grapes. “These mountain grapes are delicious. Back home, I used to go into the mountains with Mutou and the others to pick them.”
Meilin glanced at his pure black eyes, untainted by war, and said nothing. She took a bunch of grapes and began eating casually. Seeing her eat, the boy seemed very pleased. He sat down and started eating too.
“If we leave him here, the Yan people will naturally find him. Carrying him will only endanger us both,” Meilin said after eating two bunches of grapes, suppressing the lingering bloody taste in her mouth. She continued cutting vines.
“But he might die before they find him…” Yue Qin said seriously while wolfing down grapes. He spoke the truth. Setting aside other dangers, the cold autumn mountain forest was as frigid as winter. Leaving an unconscious person lying here would likely result in death from exposure before long.
Knowing he spoke the truth, Meilin pursed her lips and said no more. She had already cut a large pile of flexible vines. After scanning the surroundings, she walked to a Korean pine about as thick as an adult’s arm and over ten feet tall. Crouching down, she began whittling away at its base. Though lacking in strength, her dagger was sharp, and it didn’t take long to fall the tree.
“Sister, let me help you,” Yue Qin said, quickly finishing the grapes and running over to help her strip the branches and leaves.
Meilin, injured and feeling the strain of her efforts, simply tossed him the dagger and instructed him on what to do.
Accustomed to manual labor, Yue Qin worked deftly. In no time, he had fashioned a crude frame from the trunk and vines. Meilin then had him cut four three-inch-thick circular sections from the remaining trunk, peel them, hollow out the centers, and string them on the vines at the bottom of the frame.
Before they finished, Yue Qin had already grasped Meilin’s intention, and his enthusiasm for the task grew.
When they securely tied Murong Jinghe to the frame with vines and dragged it for a bit, both were satisfied, albeit for different reasons. Yue Qin was pleased that this method not only saved energy but also increased their speed. Meilin was satisfied that Murong Jinghe, bound this way, wouldn’t pose much threat even if he suddenly awoke. Regardless of their motivations, the outcome pleased them both.
They buried the leftover materials in a hole, covered it with fallen leaves and pine needles, spread excess soil over the cut stumps, and erased all traces of their presence before setting off.
“Sister, come up here too. I can pull both of you,” Yue Qin called out to Meilin, who was lagging, his eyes bright with childlike excitement at his new toy.
Meilin waved him on, indicating he should continue forward while she carefully erased or concealed their tracks. Occasionally, she would walk in a different direction for a while before backtracking along their original footprints.
Moving slowly, she gathered edible items along the way, storing them in Murong Jinghe’s damp clothes. When she had collected enough, she tied them securely with a sash and placed them on the vine frame for Yue Qin to pull.
After traveling this way for over two hours without anyone catching up, both began to relax a little.
By noon, the rain had stopped, but the wind still carried moisture, chilling them to the bone. They stopped to rest and eat by a stream.
Meilin went to one side, out of Yue Qin’s sight, to clean her wounds by the water. She applied herbs found along the way and re-bandaged them with washed cloth strips. After drinking some water, she casually glanced at the sky, her expression suddenly changing.
“Kid, hide!” she said urgently, already retreating into the dense forest nearby.
Yue Qin didn’t understand what was happening, but he had grown accustomed to following Meilin’s instructions. Without a second thought, he dragged Murong Jinghe into the forest to hide, just as she had done.
Meilin carefully moved to their side, avoiding disturbing the surrounding bushes, and peered through the gaps in the branches towards the sky.
“Sister, what’s wrong?” Yue Qin looked up too.
A black dot circled beneath the leaden clouds, suddenly diving like lightning towards their hiding place. Just as Yue Qin cried out in surprise, it halted abruptly about ten feet above the treetops, revealing its sleek, beautiful blue-gray form. Its golden eyes, sharp and cold, fixed on them – it was Murong Xuanlie’s sea holly. Before they could react, the bird swooped back up high, circling the dense forest where they hid.
Meilin cursed under her breath, her face grim. “We’ve been spotted. Quickly, leave this place.”
Yue Qin tightened his grip on the crossbar of the vine frame, hunching over like a startled young bull as he plunged deeper into the forest. Meilin followed closely, no longer able to conceal their tracks. However, no matter how fast they moved, the fierce bird continued to circle above them, indicating their location to its distant master.
Meilin’s leg wound made this rapid flight difficult. Soon, she called for the boy ahead, who was also panting heavily as he dragged his burden, to stop.
“This won’t work. We’ll be caught soon,” she said, stepping forward to untie the vine sling across the boy’s chest.
Yue Qin’s pale lips moved, but she raised her hand to stop him. “There’s no time. Listen to me.”
“Go ahead from here, following the stream for a while. Be careful,” she said, quickly fashioning a circular hat covered in green leaves from nearby soft shrub branches with her dagger. She placed it on the boy’s head. “Then leave the forest and get into the stream, staying close to the more sheltered side…”
She paused, asking, “Can you swim?”
Yue Qin nodded slightly, opening his mouth to speak, but Meilin didn’t give him the chance.
“Then follow the stream. Don’t change direction unless someone’s chasing you,” she said, adjusting the boy’s tattered clothes to cover his exposed skin, which was covered in goosebumps from the cold wind. She tightened the vine rope. “When you get ashore, don’t rush. Treat the path you’ve walked as I showed you before. Don’t leave traces, understand?”
Yue Qin shook his head, his mouth still tightly shut, but his eyes were already red.
“Go quickly. You’ll only slow me down if you stay here,” Meilin frowned, pushing him towards the downstream direction, seeming angry.
Unexpectedly, the boy burst into tears with a “wah,” not moving away but not daring to approach her either.
Meilin couldn’t stand seeing people cry. She sighed, walked over, and put her arm around Yue Qin’s neck, letting his forehead rest on her uninjured shoulder. He was small and thin, so the posture didn’t look strange.
“Alright, sister isn’t rejecting you,” she said, acknowledging the title for the first time. Hearing this, Yue Qin cried even harder, his shoulders beginning to shake.
Meilin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but she felt inexplicably heartbroken, mixed with another unnamed emotion that softened her tone.
“Are you a little girl? Crying so much!”
This had the desired effect. Yue Qin immediately stopped crying, only occasionally sniffling, which made him seem even more pitiful.
Meilin sighed, knowing that without sufficient reason, she couldn’t convince him to leave first.
“Yue Qin, we must separate. Otherwise, with that feathered beast watching us from above, neither of us will escape. You go first, I’ll follow soon.”
“Then sister, you go first. I still need to pull this Yan person,” Yue Qin interrupted, lifting the leafy hat from his head and trying to place it on hers.
Meilin stepped back to avoid it, saying displeasedly, “You’re so foolish. Do you want them to kill you before coming after me?”
The boy’s face once again showed a hurt expression.
Meilin smiled, “If sister is alone, I have many ways to avoid detection. Besides, I’m not from Southern Yue, so they won’t do anything to me.”
Perhaps remembering the boy’s concern for Murong Jinghe, she added, “Don’t worry, I won’t abandon this Yan person. I’ll watch them take him back before I leave, then I’ll come find you.”
Before Yue Qin could ponder the contradictions in her words, she continued, “After you leave, wait for me in the largest city nearest to Zhaojing. Let’s see who gets there first.” As she spoke, she grabbed the rope on the vine frame and began dragging it towards the stream outside the forest.
Yue Qin stared blankly at her retreating figure, wanting to help but knowing it would only anger her. As he hesitated, Meilin called back without turning, “Hurry up! What kind of man acts so indecisively?”
Yue Qin’s body trembled violently. With a whimper, he put on the grass hat, turned, and ran. It took him a while to regain his composure, trying to stay where the trees were densest to conceal himself. But as he ran and cried, his vision blurred, causing him to trip and fall several times, looking quite miserable.
As the two separated, the sea holly above became confused, not knowing which direction to follow. It hovered chaotically for a moment before giving up on tracking Yue Qin, whose figure had disappeared from view. Instead, it focused intently on the two who remained by the stream.
Meilin sat down and retrieved some snake meat from her pocket. After eating a few pieces, she rinsed her mouth with water and then chewed on some aromatic herbs she had picked nearby. She almost thought she could hear the sound of clothes rustling in the wind approaching, but knew it was just her imagination. Her current abilities didn’t allow for such acute hearing.
Whether from cold or other reasons, Murong Jinghe’s complexion had worsened since morning. His face was now more blue than white, making one worry he might stop breathing at any moment.
After some consideration, Meilin went forward and untied the vines binding him to the frame. She thought that if he woke up, at least he wouldn’t die needlessly from being unable to move. While she didn’t like him and had no intention of saving him, her dislike wasn’t strong enough to want him dead.
Indeed, she had no plans to wait for someone to find him before leaving, as she had promised Yue Qin. She had no desire to court death.
Remembering the anger in Muye Luomei’s eyes made her shudder. Assuming Yue Qin had already slipped into the stream, she prepared to run in the opposite direction.
But before she could lift her foot, a hand gripped her ankle tightly, nearly causing her to fall.
“Take me with you,” a hoarse voice commanded, brooking no refusal.
Meilin was startled. Looking down, she met Murong Jinghe’s clear eyes.
There was no confusion of one just waking, nor the usual haze of wine and lust. His gaze was lucid and deep, like a clear pool hidden in remote mountains. Years later, Meilin would still wonder: was it his eyes that gave her the illusion of absolute stillness, or did the birds truly stop singing and even the wind cease at that moment?
It was only an instant before she regained her composure. She asked coldly, “When did you wake up?” She refused to believe his timing was so convenient—waking just as she decided to abandon him.
“Last night,” Murong Jinghe replied frankly.
Meilin’s face stiffened. Recalling how the three of them had huddled together last night and the day’s ordeals, a rare look of annoyance crossed her brow. She wanted to berate him but realized this wasn’t the time. Swallowing her anger, she forced a smile and said, “Since Your Highness has awakened, surely the Crown Prince and others will arrive soon. Why trouble this humble woman?”
She no longer referred to herself as a servant, seeing no need for such self-abasement now.
At the mention of the Crown Prince, Murong Jinghe’s eyebrow twitched imperceptibly. He didn’t try to elaborate, merely repeating calmly, “Take me with you.”
Meilin’s smile faltered. She glared at his calm yet stubborn eyes. “Has Your Highness forgotten that you wanted my life just yesterday? What right do you have to make such demands today?”
Muye Luomei had suggested using her as a target for their hunt, like the other war prisoners, and he had agreed without hesitation. Even when she had begged desperately, he had only focused on pleasing Muye Luomei, not sparing her a single glance. Now he dared to order her around? Did he truly believe his royal status could command everyone?
“I never intended to take your life,” Murong Jinghe said, lowering his eyes. Just as Meilin felt a flicker of hope, he added words that nearly made her spit blood: “Whether you live or die is of no concern to me.” His meaning couldn’t be clearer—she was nothing to him, so her fate was irrelevant.
With this explanation, Meilin immediately understood. When he took her into his tent when he abandoned her in the forest when he used her to please the woman he loved—none of it stemmed from any particular opinion of her. She was simply convenient, never truly seen by him. To him, she was more an object than a living person. And for an object, what was there to say about life or death?
Meilin hadn’t thought she held any expectations of him, but his words still stung. Perhaps because since her time in the secret facility, she had always been treated as an object. She had thought… when he had touched the mole at the corner of her eyebrow with fascination when he had held her from behind as they slept, that at least in his eyes, she was still human. But now…
She let out a low laugh, struggling to suppress the surge of sorrow and anger. She tried to shake off his hand with her foot, but his next words stopped her.
“If you don’t take me with you, you won’t escape either.” A clear threat.
Meilin’s last shred of sympathy vanished. She laughed coldly, drawing a dagger from her waist. Crouching down, she pointed it at his vulnerable throat. “Can’t escape? Do you believe I won’t kill you first and then cut off your hand?”
Murong Jinghe’s expression remained unchanged, not even blinking. “I believe you.” After a pause, seeing her dagger waver slightly, he smiled and continued, “But do you believe that if you kill me, you and that child will never see tomorrow’s sunrise?”
A shrill eagle cry echoed from above. Meilin pressed her lips together and silently withdrew her dagger, knowing he spoke the truth. Regardless of the emperor’s favor, he was still a prince. If a prince died here under mysterious circumstances, many would suffer.
“Can you walk?” She made her decision swiftly, knowing that further delay would leave them with no chance to leave at all.
Murong Jinghe smiled but didn’t answer. The truth was obvious—if he could walk, why would he have been feigning unconsciousness?
Meilin had no choice. She bent down to help him up, but as she exerted force, blood seeped through the newly bandaged wound on her left shoulder. Her right leg also erupted in pain, causing her to collapse to her knees. Murong Jinghe, half-raised, fell back as well.
“Even if you want revenge, there’s no need to rush it this moment,” Murong Jinghe said, a flicker of pain crossing his face, though his words carried a mocking tone beneath their nonchalance.
Meilin kept her head down, waiting for the pain to subside before looking up at him. She said coolly, “The arrow wounds I bear now are all thanks to your woman.”
At the mention of Muye Luomei, Murong Jinghe’s face darkened, his tone instantly colder: “She has a straightforward nature and can’t tolerate even a speck of sand in her eye. That she spared your life is already your good fortune. What more do you want?”
Meilin let out a harsh laugh. Recalling how Muye Luomei had “spared” her, she retorted, “Am I supposed to be grateful to her?” Seeing anger rising on Murong Jinghe’s face, she quickly changed the subject before he could say something more unpleasant. “The problem now is, not only can I not move you, but even if I could, we’d be caught quickly.”
Having stated the facts, she couldn’t help but add bitterly, “I’m sure your woman will catch up soon. She’ll bring you back safely, so why insist on dragging me along?”
“Because I wish it,” Murong Jinghe replied. Recognizing their current predicament, he didn’t dwell on Muye Luomei further. He mused, “We indeed don’t have enough time…”
As Murong Xuanlie’s guards scouted ahead, approaching the area indicated by the hunting falcon, they spotted a figure standing between the vines wearing Murong Jinghe’s clothes. Without thinking, one guard loosed two arrows.
When Murong Xuanlie and Muye Luomei arrived, they found the guard standing respectfully to the side, his face ashen. The person they had searched for all night—Murong Jinghe—was lounging on a smooth boulder by the stream, his head resting in a beauty’s lap.
A thin shirt was spread on the stone, and both figures wore only white undergarments. One had their collar half-open, the other’s hair disheveled—it was clear what had been happening before their arrival. Around the boulder, the stream gurgled, and wild chrysanthemums bloomed, accentuating the alluring yet pitiful appearance of the blood-stained beauty in white.
Muye Luomei’s face darkened.
“Elder Brother, why have you come?” Murong Jinghe greeted them without bothering to rise, his tone less than enthusiastic.
Murong Xuanlie glanced at the nervous and oddly behaving guard beside him, puzzled. He scrutinized Murong Jinghe, whose expression hinted at displeasure, trying to discern something.
“Jinghe, you’re truly reckless. Do you know how hard we’ve searched for you?” He frowned slightly, his face showing disapproval, adopting the air of an elder brother scolding a younger sibling.
“Why were you searching for me?” Murong Jinghe’s eyes widened in surprise. He turned slightly to look at Meilin.
She immediately understood, lowering her head to kiss his cheek, then nuzzling his neck affectionately.
He tilted his head back, his expression indulgent and loving, though his words were directed at Murong Xuanlie: “I’m enjoying the autumn scenery with my beloved. We’ll return when we’ve had our fill. Does Elder Brother think that after five years with the Jingli Army, I’m so useless I can’t even protect myself?” At this, he suddenly smiled, his gaze flashing like lightning towards the guard. “So you had to send guards to test your brother’s skills with a couple of arrows?”
Murong Xuanlie’s face changed abruptly. He glared fiercely at the guard and thundered, “How dare you!”
The guard dropped to his knees with a thud. “Forgive me, Your Highness. The wind rustled, and I mistook it for a beast passing by. I truly didn’t mean to offend Prince Jingbei.”
Before Murong Xuanlie could respond, Murong Jinghe said with a smile, “If he can’t even distinguish between a person and a beast, keeping such a guard by your side truly makes one worry for Elder Brother’s safety.”
At these words, the previously composed guard’s face turned ashen. His kneeling body trembled imperceptibly as he repeatedly kowtowed, saying, “This servant knows his crime, this servant knows his crime…”
A flash of cold cruelty crossed Murong Xuanlie’s handsome face, quickly replaced by a smile. “Since this blind fool has offended Third Brother, I naturally won’t let him off easily.” He paused before continuing, “The autumn rain has just stopped in the mountains. It’s damp and cold, not suitable for a long stay. Let’s return quickly.”
Murong Jinghe, seemingly comfortable in his beauty’s care, half-closed his eyes. After a while, he lazily sat up with her support, still leaning on her like a boneless doll. He cast a frivolous glance at Murong Xuanlie, whose smile was starting to falter.
“Elder Brother should return first. I haven’t fully enjoyed myself with my beloved yet…”
“Enough! Murong Jinghe, how much more do you intend to push this?” Muye Luomei, who had been silent until now, finally exploded in anger, her beautiful eyes filled with fury and impatience.
It seemed only then that Murong Jinghe noticed Muye Luomei’s presence. His eyes, clouded with desire, slowly turned to her. After staring for a moment, his expression grew increasingly cold. “Who are you to speak to me like this?”
His words stunned not only Muye Luomei and Murong Xuanlie but even Meilin. He continued, “You injured my beloved, and I haven’t even settled accounts with you yet. How dare you act so arrogantly here?”
“Murong Jinghe, you… you…” Muye Luomei, accustomed to Murong Jinghe’s pampering and adoration, was shocked by his sudden change in attitude. Angry, furious, and disbelieving, she didn’t know how to react.
“How dare you use my name so casually?” Murong Jinghe interrupted her, disgust evident in his eyes. “A woman like you, both boring and arrogant—I merely played with you when the mood struck. Did you think you meant something? You even dared to harm my woman…”
Muye Luomei’s face turned blue with anger. She spat out “Fine!” several times before turning to leave.
Murong Xuanlie called after her a few times. Seeing her walk away, he turned back to rebuke Murong Jinghe: “Jinghe, you’ve gone too far this time!” With that, he also left.
After a few steps, he stopped and ordered another guard: “Stay here to protect Prince Jingbei. If anything happens to him, bring me your head.”
Once Murong Xuanlie disappeared into the forest, Meilin felt Murong Jinghe slowly release his grip on her. A stinging pain radiated from her palm, making her frown in confusion. If it hurt him so much, why did he say those things? Wouldn’t it have been better to let Muye Luomei know the truth?
Before she could ponder further, Murong Jinghe turned his head, his lips brushing against her neck. To an outsider, it would appear they were becoming intimate again. The remaining guard, remembering his companion’s lesson, hurriedly turned away and walked some distance off.
“Dispose of him quickly,” Murong Jinghe murmured, his eyes revealing undisguised ruthlessness.
Meilin nodded. She knew this guard was left by Murong Xuanlie to watch them. If they let their guard down even slightly, they might end up like Murong Jinghe’s clothes—riddled with holes. At this thought, she glanced at the clothes hanging on a small tree, two feathered arrows firmly embedded in them. Even in the wind, they didn’t sway, a testament to the archer’s strength.
With this in mind, she gently laid Murong Jinghe back on the stone, carefully adjusting him into a comfortable and leisurely position. Then she stood and walked towards the guard’s location.
(End of Chun Hua Yan – Chapter)