That fragrance was light and faint, brushing past her nose tip before being swept away by wind and rain in an instant.

She was too tired. Though her heart held vague feelings, she couldn’t open her eyes.

She sank into sleep. In her dreams, white shadows flitted by, coming and going suddenly. In her dreams, a trace of light fragrance mingled with mist. At the mist’s end, she saw a breathtakingly elegant countenance.

Outside the wall recess, heavy rain poured down. The stone she leaned against was half inside the recess, half outside. The half outside was soaked by rain. Wind howled from the valley’s open areas, rustling through grass and trees with whooshing sounds. Vaguely, at the stone’s base, there was slight trembling.

In the rain suddenly appeared a black umbrella, moving soundlessly closer. Under the umbrella was a pale, indifferent young woman’s face.

She walked without sound, stopping before Jing Hengbo. Carefully observing her sleeping countenance, she raised her hand and pressed her sleep acupoint.

Then she put down the umbrella, helped Jing Hengbo sit up, and lifted the upright stone behind her.

Dark blue-green leather material fell away. He lowered his eyes, half his body supporting her weight, half his body in the rain.

A trace of puzzled emotion flashed in the girl’s eyes as she said softly, “She’s the one you’ve been waiting for?”

Earlier, he had sent all the disciples out for their killing competition, then commanded her to carry him down the mountain. In this valley’s only mountain wall recess where people could hide, he sat down, covering himself with the leather material those soldiers used for camouflage.

He sat there like a mountain stone, silently waiting in the heavy rain, blocking the penetrating wind and rain, just to give her a place to rest when she paused.

Gong Yin didn’t answer, lowering his head to gaze at Jing Hengbo. Her slightly curled lashes drooped beneath his chin, her breathing even and sweet.

The girl’s eyes showed incredible expression—the Dragon Ying clan didn’t value worldly emotions. She couldn’t understand such behavior.

Gong Yin gently moved his fingers, brushing away a strand of disheveled hair stuck to Jing Hengbo’s forehead. His fingertips lingered around the black hair for a long time, until he covered the strands with his palm to dry them.

Her hair still carried that rich fragrance—unchanged after one year, one month, and eleven days of separation. The time apart had been so long, yet catching this scent again felt like encountering a past life.

Watching this scene, the girl felt her heart stir. This moment seemed like the suddenly gentle rain threads, causing a cool melancholy in her heart. She wanted to look longer, yet felt that looking more would only bring heartache.

She didn’t understand this was called bone-deep longing.

Gong Yin seemed unconcerned by her presence or her thoughts. His fingers slowly pressed against Jing Hengbo’s cheek. Where his fingertips touched, faint white vapor rose from Jing Hengbo’s body.

He was using internal energy to dispel the cold from Jing Hengbo, preventing her from catching cold while sleeping in the rainy night.

Though his meridians were blocked by needle fragments and he couldn’t move, his internal energy remained. However, such actions were still detrimental to his recovery. The girl, responsible for his treatment, saw this and moved her lips to stop him. But seeing the two people’s expressions, her heart suddenly jolted.

Rain curtains wove like fabric, the mountain wall was dim. He gently embraced her, his lowered lashes sheltering only the small world containing her.

Though she was in dreams, she seemed to sense something, slightly shifting her body to lean closer to him. A faint smile appeared at the corners of her lips.

That smile was satisfied and indulgent, as if encountering a beautiful dream.

Standing in the rain, watching the two people, the girl suddenly understood what it meant to create tenderness without writing a single word or speaking a single phrase.

She suddenly felt herself superfluous, silently turning away and raising her umbrella.

Rain threads painted heaven and earth. April mountains remained cool. In the hazy vertical and horizontal threads, the embracing people silently shared this moment of encounter.

Heavenly wind moaned through the valley, like singing, like soft sighs. The girl standing with her back to the cave entrance stared wide-eyed at this impenetrable rainy night, tears faintly glimmering in her eyes.

The rain gradually weakened. Clear bird calls came from the mountains. The girl turned around, looking at those two people silently embracing in the dawn light, suddenly finding herself unable to speak words of urgency.

Gong Yin gently arranged Jing Hengbo’s last strand of disheveled hair, smoothing it behind her ear, saying calmly, “Let’s go.”

The girl carried him on her back. Before leaving, she didn’t forget to follow his instructions—finding a long stone, covering it with the camouflage material, and leaning it behind Jing Hengbo.

As she prepared to leap away, she turned slightly one last time—not because she wanted to see Jing Hengbo, but to let Gong Yin take one more look.

But Gong Yin didn’t turn his gaze.

No need to look again. Her posture was a relief carved on his heart’s tablet, never to be erased.

He only needed to remember that moment just now—after more than a year apart, he finally held her in his arms again, sharing a rare moment of tranquility with her. He only needed to remember her gentle warmth in his embrace, like a handful of clouds flying into his desolate world.

After this time, perhaps they would meet again in the future, but wanting to embrace again depended entirely on fate’s granted opportunity.

It depended on how long heaven was willing to let him live.

Before having any guarantee of life, he’d rather she remain uncertain of his existence, rather she think he continued living healthy and whole in some corner of this Great Wilderness.

The girl leaped into action. The oncoming wind struck with bone-piercing coolness. She listened to the calm breathing behind her, thinking she didn’t understand such feelings. She only suddenly realized that such feelings—she’d never had before and never would after. Most people in this world wouldn’t understand or have them either.

Yet she didn’t know whether this was regret or fortune.

She thought she’d rather not understand, not have such feelings.

…

Jing Hengbo slowly opened her eyes.

What a good sleep—she hadn’t had such deep, sweet slumber in so long. It seemed she hadn’t slept like this since Gong Yin’s disappearance.

The moment she woke, she felt her blood flowing smoothly throughout her body, energy abundant, as if just one sleep had completely revived her.

She sat up, somewhat dazed, wondering: sleeping once could restore her like this? How had she never achieved such results from sleep before?

Looking around, the rain outside had stopped. Something felt wrong. Looking down, her clothes were dry.

Getting soaked in rain most of the night, yet drying this quickly? When exactly had the rain stopped?

She also felt tightness at the corners of her eyes. Touching them, there seemed to be traces of tears.

She’d heard of drooling in sleep, but never heard of crying in sleep. Had she had a nightmare? But she had absolutely no memory of one.

After thinking without answers, still concerned about returning quickly—unsure whether the escort team could handle the Yélu family’s forces—she stood up. Just as she was about to turn around, she suddenly stopped.

Her gaze fell on the stone behind her.

This stone seemed somehow wrong.

She remembered when entering this mountain wall recess, she’d specifically looked at this stone because most stones in this valley were square or flat-round. Rarely were there such thin, long stones.

Now this stone had become a square block of mountain stone. She could almost be certain this wasn’t the same stone as before. If it had been this one, being so square wouldn’t be comfortable to lean against—she couldn’t have slept so peacefully.

Someone had come? Changed the stone?

Her heart jumped in alarm. Why would someone appear for no reason—friend or foe—not harm her, but change a stone instead?

She suddenly trembled, as if lightning struck through her mind, whirling around to look in all directions.

The valley was empty and silent, the sky dark and gloomy, with only howling wind sounds from all sides.

She spread her legs wide, searching frantically through the valley. Besides those soldiers she’d brought down, there was no one else.

She leaped up the mountainside, seeing some steel wires halfway up—black steel wires stretched across the dark night, invisible unless one looked carefully.

Running further up to the mountaintop, she found many chaotic footprints and a broken crossbow thrown on the ground.

Her whole body went cold in an instant.

Just earlier, there had been people on this mountaintop!

Those ambushed on the mountaintop then must have been Yu Kingdom’s elite forces. She was the mantis stalking the cicada, never expecting the oriole behind her!

Someone had silently captured the oriole for her, trading it for mountain stone, for her success, and for a good sleep.

Who was it?

The answer was on the tip of her tongue.

Her whole body trembled as if the mountain peak wind would blow her into the valley. Irresistible excitement and disappointment came in alternating waves. Unable to stand steady, she staggered a step. “Crack”—she stepped on and shattered that half crossbow.

Gong Yin!

Why did you brush past without acknowledgment again!

She suddenly turned and ran back down the valley, reaching where she’d slept. Touching that mountain stone, as if still hoping to find his scent and warmth, but she knew she’d already missed him.

He was always so cruel—when she searched for him hundreds of times, he quietly emerged from the shadows, then left silently.

She squatted down, curling tightly into a ball, as if only through this posture could she resist the sudden pain and collapse welling up from her heart.

She suddenly noticed shallow footprints on the ground.

She stared blankly for a while, reaching out to measure them. The footprint was only a small half, pointed at the front. From the size and shape, it looked like a woman’s footprint.

This footprint wasn’t hers.

She was somewhat puzzled—a woman had appeared? If it had been him earlier, given his nature, he wouldn’t want outsiders present. So who was this woman? Why was she there?

She vaguely felt he must have some condition she hadn’t thought of.

She slowly stood up, taking a long breath.

It’s alright. Just knowing you’re by my side is enough.

…

Because she’d slept and then searched for Gong Yin, delaying time, when Jing Hengbo rushed back, she discovered the battle at the escort convoy camp had already begun.

From afar she could see fire arrows streaking through the air, figures crisscrossing, even the fierce whistle of heavy crossbows piercing the air like ghostly wails. From the numbers, the attackers were no fewer than the defenders. Apparently, the Yélu family, seeing this was wilderness with Yu Kingdom royalty backing them, decided to go all out and strike to kill.

Seeing the team’s circular formation, Jing Hengbo sighed. She’d already had someone warn Jiang Ya that the enemy might be numerous and might have Yu Kingdom troops, yet he was still so careless. Though circular formation was the best defensive formation for nighttime, it couldn’t withstand fire attacks. If the enemy even had local kingdom troops participating, it meant local authorities permitted the raid and killing. The attacking Yélu family would have no more scruples, no longer fearing discovery of interference. Fire attacks and arrow volleys would be unavoidable. Using circular formation now could easily result in heavy casualties.

The distant fighting was fierce. A white shadow darted back and forth through firelight, graceful as lightning. Wherever the white shadow passed, flames died out and attackers continuously cried out as they tumbled away. She recognized this as Nan Jin. Soldiers quickly discovered Nan Jin’s prowess and naturally clustered around her.

But Nan Jin was frowning. She didn’t want to meddle in others’ affairs at all—she was just looking for Jing Hengbo. Strange person—having searched the entire camp, where had she gone?

Jiang Ya commanded the battle from the outermost perimeter, while Deputy Captain Lei Xi stayed in the innermost area with a group of elite soldiers, guarding all the exile prisoners. These were all serious criminals—not one could be lost, or the Empress would certainly demand accountability. Those prisoners were all concentrated in one tent, with no lights inside. Everyone wore heavy shackles and chains, locked to the ground.

Lei Xi watched the external offensive, his eyes flickering, saying to soldiers beside him: “Though it looks tense, I estimate they can’t break through.”

One soldier said: “The enemy has quite a few people. If several hundred more came, or a batch of experts arrived, they could charge in.”

Another soldier said: “Fortunately we have that snow person. When she acts, even fire arrows go out—she’s helping us tremendously.”

The soldiers all called Nan Jin “snow person,” feeling this girl was too cold and clean, like a handful of snow.

Another soldier glanced at Lei Xi and said: “Speaking of that snow person, where’s that other strange person? The battle is so intense, even the mess cooks are helping guard prisoners. How come he’s been missing all along? Even being a relative of Commander Ying Bai, he shouldn’t be this leisurely, right?”

This reminded everyone, who immediately said: “Right, where did he go? Running around at other times, why is he also running now? What kind of behavior is this?”

Lei Xi’s eyes flickered as he said slowly: “Don’t you think having someone suddenly missing from the team at this time isn’t a good thing?”

Everyone looked stern. After a moment, someone said in a low voice: “Yes, that person acts strangely. Could he be a spy…”

In the darkness behind the tent, Jing Hengbo stood quietly.

Lei Xi nodded, saying gravely: “Tonight enemies come with fierce momentum and large numbers. If a spy appeared at this time, the consequences would be unthinkable. We’re responsible for guarding this batch of prisoners—a heavy responsibility. Therefore, I think the originally planned guard arrangement should be adjusted?”

Everyone felt uneasy and agreed after thinking. Lei Xi said in a low voice: “If we all guard here, it’s easy for enemies to immediately see this is where serious criminals gather. If a batch of experts concentrated their fierce attack, we might not be able to withstand it. Better to use real as fake and fake as real—withdraw personnel, scatter and ambush on the sides, supporting each other mutually, giving enemies an unexpected surprise.”

Everyone thought this method was good and immediately scattered, ambushing in various positions around the tent. Lei Xi made another trip into the tent. In the dark tent, prisoners huddled together shivering. Someone raised their head and glanced at him.

After a while Lei Xi came out, stood before the tent looking at the sky, then walked away.

Around the tent, soldiers scattered to find ambush positions.

The instant this crowd dispersed, over ten shadowy figures silently flashed into this central area. Some people quickly scattered while others crept toward the tent.

A soldier had just found a good hiding spot but hadn’t yet crouched down when he suddenly felt cold wind beside him. Then wind sounds rang overhead. He knew this was bad—someone was ambushing him!

But it was already too late. He could only close his eyes and wait for death. However, with a muffled “thud,” the overhead wind sounds didn’t fall. He opened his eyes in amazement to see a figure flash past like lightning. At his feet, somehow a black-clothed person now lay with a bloody head. Beside the black-clothed person lay a golden mace—clearly the weapon the enemy had just tried to ambush him with. Somehow, the ambush failed and struck the attacker’s own head instead.

The soldier looked around bewildered, but amid the moving black shadows and wind sounds, where could he clearly see who had just saved him?

This happened throughout the entire camp center. Those soldiers scattered and hidden in various ambush positions all faced black shadow ambushes the instant they dispersed. However, the ambushes failed and the attackers were counter-attacked instead. Those who had acted all ended up at the soldiers’ feet. The soldiers only glimpsed black shadows from the corners of their eyes—moving at inhuman speeds.

That black shadow was naturally Jing Hengbo. She saw this batch who had taken advantage of chaos to enter the camp center all had quite excellent lightness skills and very clear objectives—heading straight for the tent guarding prisoners. They must be Yélu family elites used to rescue the eldest son.

One group eliminated the ambushed soldiers outside while another group rushed into the tent, drawing gleaming cold weapons before even entering—both to rescue and to kill.

Jing Hengbo was about to follow them in when she suddenly felt cold behind her—this chill was too familiar. She whirled around.

But there was no one behind her. Her gaze fell to the ground where there was a small snowball.

Light blazed in her eyes. Suddenly a white shadow flashed—Nan Jin, who had been fighting in front, appeared. Her expression also seemed to have discovered something as she suddenly dove into a nearby tent.

Jing Hengbo shouted loudly: “Did you throw this snowball?”

The tent over there went quiet for a moment before Nan Jin’s voice came: “No!”

Her voice sounded somewhat unsteady, as if she’d discovered something surprising.

Jing Hengbo also rushed toward that tent—she had to find out who threw this snowball!

Before her body could rush out, she suddenly heard harsh cold laughter behind her. Looking back, several black-clothed people had already emerged from the tent, one carrying a person on his shoulder—exactly the Yélu family’s eldest son.

Jing Hengbo’s eyes flashed—there were no lights in the tent, all prisoners wore identical clothing, faces covered with mud and ash, mouths gagged, locked to the ground with shackles. How had these people instantly recognized the person the Yélu family wanted to rescue?

At this moment footsteps clattered as Lei Xi rushed over with a group. Seeing the black-clothed person carrying the Yélu family eldest son, he couldn’t help but be shocked, shouting: “How did they find him!”

Surrounded by people, that group wasn’t anxious. One of them waved his finger, holding a paper bag, laughing: “Today’s wind direction is westerly. The people in the tent are positioned downwind. If this bag tears and poison powder gets in, everyone inside would die instantly. How about it—want to try?”

At this moment Captain Jiang Ya also arrived with troops. Having just relaxed after repelling the external attack, seeing enemies had actually infiltrated the vital position, he couldn’t help being shocked and asking: “How did they get in! How did they rescue the person!”

Lei Xi shouted loudly: “I don’t know either. I just left briefly to deploy ambushes when these people appeared!”

Jing Hengbo was impatient listening, wondering what was wrong with that tent and why Nan Jin still hadn’t come out. She turned to leave, but Lei Xi suddenly said: “We’re in a standoff here. Instead of staying to prepare for battle, where are you running?”

Jing Hengbo paused, stopping. The soldiers’ gazes all carried coldness and rejection.

“One less of me won’t matter,” Jing Hengbo smiled. “I have something to investigate.”

Lei Xi’s eyes moved. Several people shifted their steps, blocking her path. Lei Xi sneered: “At this time, it’s inconvenient to leave, isn’t it?”

That group of black-clothed people suddenly laughed: “We could get in naturally because someone helped.” They nodded at Jing Hengbo: “Little brother, thank you. Don’t worry—we’ll take you with us when we leave.”

Everyone exclaimed in shock. All eyes focused on Jing Hengbo’s face like lightning, then erupted like thunder with angry curses and shouts exploding like a tide.

“He really has problems!”

“No wonder he was acting sneaky and wanting to leave!”

“He wasn’t around during the earlier fighting! He must have been contacting these people!”

“He even made false military reports, saying Yu Kingdom troops would attack. Where are any Yu Kingdom troops? Fortunately the captain didn’t listen and change deployment, or everyone would have died by his hand!”

“Spy! Spy!”

“Kill him!”

“Clang clang”—continuous ringing sounds as cold light flashed. Swords and blades emerged together, all aimed at Jing Hengbo.