When Wang Ba found Instructor Liang, he was speaking with Shen Han, with Zheng Xuan and the others standing nearby. Shen Han looked extremely displeased, and only fragments of words could be heard: “disobeying orders… crossing the mountain…”

As Zheng Xuan was speaking, someone suddenly charged forward. Before he could react, a heavy punch landed on his face, knocking him to the ground.

“Wang Ba, have you gone mad?” Liang Ping came to his senses after a moment and stopped Wang Ba’s next move.

“Instructor Liang, did this guy tell you He Yan disobeyed orders, crossed the mountain peak alone, and hasn’t returned?” Wang Ba asked, breathing heavily.

Shen Han and Liang Ping exchanged glances. Wang Ba gave a cold laugh, glaring at Zheng Xuan who was getting up from the ground: “You shameless bastard! Zheng Xuan, dare you say who saved you? You crossed the mountain peak yourself and got surrounded by wolves. If not for He Yan, could you have escaped? And now you not only ran away but also want to smear his name! Are you even a man?”

Zheng Xuan’s face turned pale, blood trickling from his struck lip. He stood up, wiped the blood, and said, “Instructor, don’t listen to his nonsense. He Yan crossed the mountain peak himself. If you don’t believe me… ask them?” He pointed to the other two recruits who had gone up the mountain with him.

The two recruits nodded hurriedly, “Yes, yes… He Yan wanted to cross the mountain himself. We all tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen…”

Wang Ba grew even angrier and lunged to strike again: “Are you even speaking human words?”

That Shen Hong was a terrible coward who would confess everything at the slightest scare – how could he have the courage to lie? Besides, He Yan… though Wang Ba didn’t particularly like him, he knew He Yan wouldn’t deliberately seek death. Compared to Zheng Xuan’s behavior, He Yan seemed much more agreeable.

Instructor Liang held Wang Ba back, shouting angrily, “All of you, stop this at once! Look at yourselves! If the Commander comes, you’ll all be punished!”

“What’s happening?” Speak of the devil – just as these words were spoken, Xiao Jue’s voice came from behind. He walked over from the garrison’s back courtyard, glanced at everyone, and said to Shen Han: “Explain.”

Shen Han’s scalp tingled as he answered honestly: “Today they went up the mountain together, but He Yan hasn’t returned. Zheng Xuan says He Yan disobeyed orders, privately crossed the mountain peak, and couldn’t be found, so they had to return before sunset.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Wang Ba sneered. “These ungrateful wretches crossed the peak first, provoked wolves, and He Yan drew the wolves away to save them. But they ran away, abandoning their brother, and now want to frame him. Among us bandits, such people are called dishonorable!”

“Commander, don’t believe his words,” Zheng Xuan quickly knelt. “We all tried to persuade He Yan, but he wouldn’t listen and insisted on leaving. As evening approached, we had to return first to seek help.”

He spoke with apparent sincerity, but Xiao Jue merely glanced at him, his thoughts unreadable.

The sun had completely set now, the last crimson clouds swallowed by the mountain peaks. The forest was silent, and with each passing moment, He Yan’s chances of survival grew dimmer. Wang Ba gritted his teeth, “Since none of you instructors are willing to risk it for him, I’ll go save him myself!” He turned to leave, “I’ve been a mountain king for years, I’m not afraid of a few beasts! Though these days, humans are worse than beasts!”

He had taken just one step when with a “whoosh,” a sword grazed his scalp and embedded itself in the wooden post before him, making Wang Ba jump.

He turned to see their Right Army Commander Xiao Jue looking displeased, warning Liang Ping: “Liang Ping, control your soldiers.”

Liang Ping: “…”

He stiffly acknowledged, inwardly wailing countless times. He had thought this would be a chance to impress Commander Xiao but instead was singled out for criticism. He felt utterly dejected, wishing he had never appeared here.

Shen Han hesitated, then said: “Commander, if we now send people into the mountain…”

“No need,” Xiao Jue cut him off.

Wang Ba stared at him in disbelief, while a glimmer of joy flashed in Zheng Xuan’s eyes.

“The mountain terrain is complex and could be treacherous. You can’t go – I will,” he said. Then he called out, and from afar came galloping a black stallion. The horse was magnificent, with snow-white hooves and green ears, its coat distinctive. It moved as if riding clouds, stopping before Xiao Jue and affectionately nuzzling his hand.

This was Green Ears, Xiao Jue’s beloved mount.

Xiao Jue mounted the horse.

Before Shen Han could say more, Xiao Jue had ridden away.

Liang Ping asked dazedly: “Chief Instructor, when the Commander mentioned treachery… are there others on the mountain?”

Shen Han remained silent. He knew they suspected He Yan. This disappearance on the mountain – who knew if it was intentional? The “treachery” referred to He Yan, not enemies.

He hoped they were overthinking it.

…

On the mountain, the night brought increasing cold.

The trap was too deep for her to climb out alone, and her injuries made movement difficult. The blood scent would attract nearby beasts; if she walked, leaving a blood trail, she’d likely be devoured within steps.

This place wasn’t so bad.

He Yan looked up at the sky. The trap had sectioned off the night sky, leaving only a circular view. From here, she could see the glittering Milky Way, the night cool as water, and countless brilliant stars beneath the vast sky forming shadows of the beautiful night.

She shifted position, tilting her head to better see the starry sky, feeling the cold creep in. In this pit, besides her, there was only a wolf’s corpse. He Yan considered, then tucked herself closer to the wolf’s belly – though cold, its fur could still ward off some chill.

He Yan reached to untie her water flask – only one sip remained. She drank it and tossed the flask aside. Cold, hungry, and thirsty – she hadn’t experienced such feelings for many years.

Suddenly she recalled Hong Shan’s words from that morning: “Come back early, we’ll celebrate the festival together.”

It was a clear autumn night, the moon bright as silk, fireflies dancing, stars abundant, the river white, at the Magpie Bridge.

He Yan gazed up at the distant constellations, murmuring: “Every family prays for skill under the autumn moon, threading countless red silk threads.”

She sighed, smiling helplessly: “Today is the Qixi Festival…”

The silent night offered no response. In the distance, the Magpie Bridge carried the Cowherd and Weaver Girl, a cool breeze dispersing all joy and sorrow of separation.

A voice spoke, carrying a mocking tone.

“What? Did you want to float flower boats by the river with your beloved?”

He Yan looked up in surprise to see a tall figure suddenly appear at the edge of the circular opening. He stood at the trap’s edge, moonlight swaying, its radiance pure, looking at her with amusement.

It was Xiao Jue.