Jiang Ci was taken aback when she saw that the boy in Song Jun’s hands was only about thirteen or fourteen years old. He was thin, with delicate features, but his complexion was pale, his lips darkened, and his eyes tightly shut. She quickly took the boy from him for a closer look and discovered that he had been poisoned severely.
Using a small knife, she gently cut the boy’s right wrist and noticed that the blood oozing out was a dark brown color. Remembering what Cui Liang had taught her, she couldn’t help but shake her head.
Song Jun bent down and asked, “Is there no hope?”
Jiang Ci sighed, “The poison is too deep; I’m afraid he can’t be saved.”
“Who is he? How did he end up near this battlefield?” Song Jun muttered to himself.
Jiang Ci laid the boy down and was about to speak when the boy suddenly groaned, his body twitching a few times.
Jiang Ci felt a surge of hope. She made another small cut on his wrist, allowing more dark blood to flow out. The boy seemed to regain some strength, opening his eyes, which were still dazed as he looked at Jiang Ci.
Jiang Ci spoke softly, “Where is your home?”
The boy pressed his lips tightly together and did not answer. Jiang Ci reached out to touch his forehead, but he suddenly screamed, grabbing Jiang Ci’s wrist with surprising strength.
Caught off guard, Jiang Ci felt a piece of her sleeve get torn away as the boy yanked it. Song Jun hurried over to restrain the boy. The boy struggled fiercely, and after a moment, he suddenly trembled violently, as if witnessing something unbelievable. He let out a series of “ah ah” sounds, his right hand breaking free from Song Jun’s grip, pointing at Jiang Ci’s right wrist.
Jiang Ci looked in astonishment at her wrist and realized that the boy was pointing at the two silver bracelets given to her by Dan Xue Mei Ying on the day of the Moonset Mountain.
Since she had been caught up in the turmoil between Pei Yan and Wei Zhao, everyone she encountered, except for Cui Liang, had either exploited or mistreated her. Only Dan Xue and Mei Ying had offered her warmth. During her time at the Moonset Red Plum Courtyard, she had experienced a relatively carefree period, which is why she always wore the silver bracelets they had gifted her on her right wrist. Whenever she saw them, her heart would warm.
A thought flashed through her mind about what Dan Xue had said, recalling that Dan Xue’s younger brother had been sent into the tent of the Thin Prince. Looking closely at the boy’s features, she suddenly realized and hurriedly moved forward to support him, taking off the bracelet Dan Xue had given her and placing it in the boy’s hand.
The boy trembled as he held the bracelet, tears streaming down his face. He looked at Jiang Ci, his voice hoarse and faint, as if it came from the depths of hell: “Who are you? Why do you have—”
Jiang Ci’s heart sank as her suspicions were confirmed. Seeing the boy’s life hanging by a thread, she felt a pang of sorrow, tears falling as she nodded, “I am a friend of Dan Xue. The bracelet was given to me by her. Are you her—”
The boy became extremely agitated, suddenly finding strength from somewhere, breaking free from Song Jun’s hold and grabbing Jiang Ci’s hands, trembling as he asked, “My sister—”
Jiang Ci felt his hands burning like fire. Ignoring the tears that continued to fill her eyes, she supported his upper body and took out a silver needle, pricking it into several points on his tiger mouth and philtrum.
Song Jun watched closely, puzzled, “Miss Jiang, do you know him?”
The boy grew even more agitated. He tightened his grip on the silver bracelet with his left hand while his right hand clutched Jiang Ci’s wrist. His nails dug deeply into her skin as he gasped, “Sister, sister—”
Jiang Ci’s wrist throbbed with pain, but she still spoke gently, “Little brother, your sister is fine. She thinks of you all the time. Hold on; I will find someone to help you detoxify, and then we will find a way to get you back.” With that, she bent down to lift the boy onto her back.
Song Jun quickly said, “Let me do it.” He moved to pick up the boy.
But the boy suddenly screamed wildly, his expression frenzied, and bit down on Song Jun’s right wrist. Caught off guard, Song Jun felt a piece of flesh get bitten off, and in extreme pain, he struck the boy’s chest with his left palm.
Jiang Ci gasped, seeing Song Jun’s left palm about to hit the boy’s chest. A whooshing sound filled the air as Song Jun’s expression changed, and he rolled to the right just in time. A stone flew past him, embedding itself into a nearby tree trunk.
Song Jun was alarmed, realizing that the person who had attacked was a formidable expert. As he rolled, he drew a dagger from his boot, instinctively preparing to counter the incoming attack. Only then did he see that his opponent was a middle-aged man dressed as a scholar.
“Who are you?” Song Jun said, knowing after a few exchanges that he was not a match for the man. He spoke in a deep voice, “This is a misunderstanding; I did not intend to harm him.”
The middle-aged scholar sneered, and his swordplay suddenly became strange and unpredictable. The sword energy surged like a fierce wind, causing Song Jun to stagger. However, he was ultimately a master of the Brightness Division and did not panic. He blocked the relentless sword strikes with his right-hand dagger while his left hand formed an eagle’s beak, executing a set of eagle fist techniques, defending with his right and attacking with his left.
The middle-aged scholar exclaimed in surprise, clearly not expecting Song Jun to use “left fist and right sword, focusing on two things at once.” As he dodged, he nodded slightly, and his swordplay changed again, undulating like waves. Song Jun was swayed by his moves, but he spotted an opening and felt a surge of joy. His left hand transformed the eagle claw punch into a tiger claw, landing on the middle-aged scholar’s right wrist as he shouted, “You—”
Before he could finish, a white figure dropped behind him like a ghost, fingers poised to jab at his neck. Song Jun’s vision went dark, and he collapsed to the ground.
The middle-aged scholar intended to thrust his sword into Song Jun’s chest, but the white-clad figure quickly seized his right wrist, saying, “Fourth Master.”
After biting off a piece of flesh from Song Jun, the boy became even more deranged, his eyes bloodshot, his voice a mix of laughter and tears. Jiang Ci could not afford to watch Song Jun fight the middle-aged scholar; she rushed over to pull the silver needle from the boy’s tiger mouth and jabbed it into the right side of his face, just below his ear. The boy gradually calmed down, but his gaze grew increasingly hazy. He looked up at Jiang Ci, tears streaming down his cheeks. After a moment, he softly called out, “Sister, sister—”
Jiang Ci felt a pang of sadness, knowing he was becoming somewhat delirious. She held him tightly in her arms, whispering, “Little brother, don’t be afraid; your sister is here—”
The boy called out “sister” a few more times, and Jiang Ci could only nod, choked with emotion. Suddenly, the boy smiled. Jiang Ci, with tear-filled eyes, noticed that his smile was as pure as mountain spring water and as beautiful as a jade flower.
Trembling, the boy reached into his chest and pulled out a silver bracelet, which matched the one given to her by Dan Xue, and held it out to Jiang Ci. He smiled, staring intently at her, his eyes never blinking, as if in his final moments, he wanted to engrave his sister’s face deeply in his heart.
Jiang Ci extended her right hand, and the boy placed the bracelet in her palm but then tightly gripped her wrist. His frail body twitched from time to time. The mountain wind blew, tousling his disheveled hair, and a few strands were stained with his dark blood, mingling with his hair, making it hard to distinguish where the blood ended and the hair began.
Tears streamed down Jiang Ci’s face like a string of pearls. A white figure approached, standing silently beside her for a moment before slowly bending down to take the boy from her arms.
Jiang Ci suddenly looked up, recognizing the face behind the human skin mask. Seeing his figure and plain robe, she asked in disbelief, “Third Master?”
Wei Zhao glanced at her and nodded slightly, intending to lift the boy. However, the boy still clung tightly to Jiang Ci’s wrist. Wei Zhao exerted force to lift him, but the boy refused to let go, pulling Jiang Ci forward.
Chun Yu Li approached, frowning slightly, and swung his sword toward Jiang Ci’s wrist. Wei Zhao’s robe sleeve quickly swept out, causing Chun Yu Li to take a small step back, confused. “Master, we must kill this boy to silence him!”
Wei Zhao’s tone was firm: “You cannot kill her!”
Chun Yu Li had no choice but to sheath his sword and come closer to examine the boy in Wei Zhao’s arms. He reached out to pat the boy’s cheek, urgently asking, “A Liu, what happened to you? Where is the Thin Thief?!”
But A Liu did not look at him; he only gazed at Jiang Ci, his eyes filled with infinite affection.
Wei Zhao regained his focus, lightly striking A Liu’s chest with his palm. A Liu coughed up a mouthful of dark blood, gasping as he finally looked at Wei Zhao and Chun Yu Li.
Seeing A Liu’s condition, Chun Yu Li realized he did not have long to live and anxiously asked, “Where is Thin Yun Mountain? Didn’t I tell you to guard him?!”
A Liu’s dazed gaze swept over him and Wei Zhao before settling on Jiang Ci’s face, murmuring, “Sister!”
Wei Zhao pondered for a moment and looked at Jiang Ci: “You ask him where Thin Yun Mountain is?!”
Jiang Ci took A Liu into her arms, gently stroking his forehead and tucking his messy hair behind his ear.
A Liu gradually calmed down. Jiang Ci looked up at Wei Zhao again and saw him gazing at A Liu with a hint of sadness in his eyes behind the mask. Her heart stirred, and she finally leaned down to whisper in A Liu’s ear, “Little brother, tell your sister where Thin Yun Mountain is.”
A Liu’s body trembled slightly as if becoming more alert. He stared at Jiang Ci for a while before looking at Chun Yu Li.
Chun Yu Li stepped forward, pinching A Liu’s philtrum: “A Liu, the Master is here. Quickly tell me, where is Thin Yun Mountain?!”
A Liu gasped, suddenly sitting up from Jiang Ci’s embrace. The pallor on his face was replaced by color as he looked around in confusion: “Master, where is the Master?”
Wei Zhao slowly crouched down in front of him, grasping his right wrist and gradually channeling his true energy into him, speaking softly, “A Liu, I am the Master. Now, tell me, where is Thin Yun Mountain?”
Jiang Ci had never heard Wei Zhao speak in such a tone. Watching the flicker in his eyes, she felt a pang in her heart and turned her head away.
As A Liu received the true energy, he gradually became more alert. He raised his right hand and pointed toward the northern mountains, gasping, “He grew suspicious of the strategist and wanted to escape. I had no choice but to urge the poison in his body, crawling down the mountain to find the strategist—”
Chun Yu Li quickly stepped forward to carry A Liu on his back, heading toward the northern mountains. Wei Zhao glanced at Jiang Ci, hesitated for a moment, then reached out to grasp her left wrist, leading her forward at a swift pace.
Following A Liu’s directions, the four of them crossed several peaks and struggled through the underbrush until they reached the entrance of a cave.
Chun Yu Li used his sword to clear the bushes at the cave’s entrance, and Wei Zhao entered first. Inside the cave, it was dim. Chun Yu Li lit a branch, and Jiang Ci slowly realized that it was a relatively narrow rock cave, with moss covering the walls. Water continuously seeped from one side of the rock wall, pooling in a hollow stone below before overflowing and flowing down the stone wall toward the cave’s exit.
On the ground inside the cave lay a person, tall and broad, with bloodstains on his armor. His face was dark, and the blood at the corners of his lips had congealed into a dark brown color. His hair was disheveled, and it seemed to be Thin Yun Mountain.
Wei Zhao crouched down and checked the breath of Thin Yun Mountain before turning to look at Jiang Ci.
Jiang Ci realized what needed to be done and quickly took out a silver needle, stabbing it into Thin Yun Mountain’s tiger mouth, philtrum, and chest in several places. Wei Zhao circulated his energy and struck several acupoints on Thin Yun Mountain. Thin Yun Mountain coughed up some white foam and slowly opened his eyes.
Wei Zhao helped him sit up against the stone wall, his cold gaze fixed intently on him.
Thin Yun Mountain regained some awareness and glanced at Chun Yu Li and A Liu beside him. He shuddered, his pupils constricting, and suddenly grabbed the treasured blade beside him, throwing it at Chun Yu Li, trembling all over. “It is you!”
Chun Yu Li easily caught the blade, a mocking smile on his lips. “My lord, don’t get angry; it’s not good for your health.”
Thin Yun Mountain gasped violently, trying to hold his head high to maintain the dignity of a general, but the cold wind in the cave tousled his hair, making his effort appear somewhat comical and feeble.
Wei Zhao said calmly, “Fourth Master, please go outside the cave and keep watch for me.”
“Yes.” Chun Yu Li quickly turned and exited the cave.
Inside the cave, there was a heavy silence, only the sound of Thin Yun Mountain’s labored breathing could be heard. A Liu gradually calmed down, but his face grew increasingly pale as he stared intently at Thin Yun Mountain.
Jiang Ci could see this clearly and came over to hold him in her arms, continuously soothing his chest.
Wei Zhao observed Thin Yun Mountain for a moment, then slowly raised his hand to remove his mask. His handsome face shone like a flash of lightning, causing Thin Yun Mountain’s eyes to widen in disbelief.
Wei Zhao slowly revealed a smile and said leisurely, “Thin Gong, five years ago, when the late empress passed away, we met in the capital. I am Xiao Wuxia, the leader of the Moonset Star Moon Sect.”
Thin Yun Mountain extended his arm, waving it a few times as if to grab Wei Zhao’s shoulders, but it fell weakly. Suddenly, he let out a sharp scream and then burst into loud, maniacal laughter. His body shook, and his laughter echoed in the cave like a ghostly wail.
He pounded the ground and laughed, “So it’s you! Ha! The old fox has met his day! Hahaha, this is just too good!”
Wei Zhao smiled and said slowly, “Thin Gong, I would like to ask you a few questions. Please answer truthfully and completely.”
Thin Yun Mountain’s laughter gradually subsided. He leaned against the stone wall, swaying as he stood up, resembling a black tower. A surge of arrogance rose between his brows as he glared at Wei Zhao, gasping, “I am in this state today entirely thanks to you. Why should I tell you anything?!”
Wei Zhao smiled faintly and turned to look at A Liu in Jiang Ci’s arms. Seeing the anger and hatred in A Liu’s eyes as he stared at Thin Yun Mountain, he lowered his voice and asked, “A Liu, what poison has he been afflicted with?”
A Liu’s face was terrifyingly pale. Leaning against Jiang Ci, he looked up at the towering Thin Yun Mountain, yet he smiled like a conqueror.
After laughing, his voice turned low and filled with gritted teeth, “Thin Thief, don’t you love whipping me and drinking my blood? Ha! I’ll let you drink it. You can drink my blood every day, and I will take ‘Witch Grass’ every day. This way, the poison in my blood will slowly accumulate in your body. As long as I take the antidote and let you drink my blood, the poison will flare up. Hahaha, the water you drank earlier contained my blood! You’re doomed; there’s only one way out for you—let’s perish together!”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound sharp like a snake hissing at its prey, but his body gradually turned stiff.
Thin Yun Mountain, furious, lunged at him like a trapped beast, but Wei Zhao waved his sleeve, forcing him back to his original spot. Black blood seeped from the corners of Thin Yun Mountain’s mouth as he looked at Wei Zhao and then at A Liu, his laughter turning into a hoarse caw: “You Moonset people are worse than beasts; you deserve to be ridden by us—”
A flash of crimson appeared in Wei Zhao’s pupils as he suddenly grasped Thin Yun Mountain’s throat, cutting off his words. Thin Yun Mountain’s mouth filled with black blood as he leaned against the stone wall, gasping for breath. Wei Zhao hesitated for a moment, then withdrew his right hand, looking down at him with tightly pressed lips, silent as a rock.
Jiang Ci sat on the ground, holding A Liu, and as she looked up, she noticed Wei Zhao’s right hand hanging by his side, his long, pale fingers trembling slightly. Her heart ached, and tears flowed uncontrollably down her face, sliding down her cheeks and into her neck, heavy and damp.
A Liu’s laughter gradually faded, his breath growing shallow. Jiang Ci realized this and wiped the tears from her face, pinching his philtrum softly, calling out, “Little brother!”
Water dripped from the rock wall, falling into the hollow stone below with a soft “ding.” Wei Zhao suddenly became aware and pressed his palm against Thin Yun Mountain’s chest.
Thin Yun Mountain seemed to age decades in an instant, like an old man nearing death, slowly sinking to the ground.
Wei Zhao crouched down in front of him, speaking lightly, “Thin Gong, you have only one son, but he is not talented. However, your eldest grandson, though only six years old, is quite clever.”
Thin Yun Mountain suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with longing. Wei Zhao smiled and said, “Indeed, I swear by the name of the Moonset deity to protect your grandson’s life in exchange for a few words from you.”
Thin Yun Mountain fell silent for a moment, then dejectedly replied, “I hope you keep your word. Ask away.”
Wei Zhao smiled and leaned closer to Thin Yun Mountain’s ear, his lips moving.
The wind surged from the depths of the cave, and Jiang Ci could not hear what the two were saying. She merely held A Liu in a daze, her mind filled with Dan Xue’s smile and Wei Zhao’s figure at Falling Phoenix Beach, her eyes gradually clouded with sorrow.
Wei Zhao laid the unconscious Thin Yun Mountain on the ground and slowly stood up.
But A Liu suddenly opened his eyes, gasping, “Master!”
Wei Zhao approached, extending his hands. Jiang Ci did not want him to see the tears in her eyes, so she lowered her head and gently handed A Liu to Wei Zhao.
Wei Zhao held A Liu in his arms, softly calling, “A Liu.”
A Liu shrank back, seemingly afraid that the blood on him would stain Wei Zhao’s white robe, struggling to sit away a bit. Wei Zhao held him tightly, adjusting his disheveled hair.
A Liu smiled with great relief, gazing up at Wei Zhao’s handsome face, his eyes filled with admiration. “Master, A Liu has a request of you.”
Wei Zhao stroked his forehead, his gaze flickering. “Alright, I promise you.”
A Liu gasped, “Master, I ask you to bury me here. I… I don’t want to return to Moonset.”
Wei Zhao was taken aback. A Liu’s tears streamed down his face, filled with sorrow as he said softly, “My body has long been tainted. I can’t let my mother and sister see me like this—” He reached out to pull open his clothing, struggling greatly. Wei Zhao helped him remove his clothes, revealing his emaciated upper body, which was covered in numerous scars on his pale skin.
Wei Zhao stiffened, unable to utter a word. The despair in his heart surged like a flood, battering against the brink of collapse. Sadness welled up in his eyes, and he dared not look at A Liu’s pleading expression. He slowly turned his head, only to meet Jiang Ci’s gaze.
He stared blankly at Jiang Ci, who also looked back at him in a daze. His stunning face, illuminated by the torchlight, radiated a dark golden glow. Although it was summer, the cold wind in the cave made her limbs feel stiff.
A Liu gasped heavily, staring intently at Wei Zhao. Jiang Ci moved her legs and slowly approached, squatting in front of A Liu. She took his right hand and placed the two silver bracelets in his palm, gazing at his colorless face as she softly said, “Little brother, you are the purest person in this world. Your sister has been waiting for you, waiting for you to come home.”
A Liu’s eyes, however, were much clearer than before. He smiled at Jiang Ci with a pure, unblemished smile. “Please keep them for me. You are my sister’s friend. If you see her in the future, give her these bracelets. Just tell her that I died on the battlefield like a man, perishing together with the enemy.”
Seeing his expression improve, Jiang Ci understood that he was experiencing a moment of clarity. Her heart ached deeply as she tightly grasped his right hand, unable to speak further.
A Liu then turned to Wei Zhao. “Master, there is another child with me. His name is A Yuan. I hid him in the dense forest three miles northeast of the military camp, in the hollow of the largest tree. I ask the Master to bring him back to Moonset.”
Wei Zhao nodded slightly. A Liu sighed in relief, his gaze drifting to Thin Yun Mountain. Suddenly, he broke free from Wei Zhao’s hands and lunged toward Thin Yun Mountain. But his strength had waned before death, and he fell to the ground after taking a small step. Unwilling to give up, he crawled toward Thin Yun Mountain with all his might.
Jiang Ci wanted to help him up, but Wei Zhao reached out and pulled her back. Jiang Ci turned, and Wei Zhao looked at her, gently shaking his head.
A Liu gasped as he slowly crawled toward Thin Yun Mountain, as if traversing the most difficult journey of his life, using every ounce of strength he had left. He reached Thin Yun Mountain and suddenly bent down, biting into Thin Yun Mountain’s face with all his might. The sound of his teeth clenching echoed as he raised his head, laughing mournfully while chewing on the flesh. Black blood flowed continuously from the corners of his mouth, and his laughter gradually turned into a low whimper, eventually falling silent.
Jiang Ci stared blankly at this scene, watching A Liu collapse to the ground, seeing the whip marks on his back like a giant centipede and the numerous bite marks on his shoulders and neck. She couldn’t help but look up at Wei Zhao.
Wei Zhao gazed at A Liu on the ground, his handsome face betraying no emotion, his entire being resembling weathered stone, only his left hand, which held Jiang Ci, trembled slightly.
Jiang Ci stared at him, wanting to say something but hesitating. She slowly withdrew her right arm from his grasp.
Wei Zhao’s expression was blank as he turned his head. She smiled gently at him, extending her hand to softly grasp his cold left hand.