Did he have a little sister? His only sister had died of illness when she was ten years old.

At the moment the man lost consciousness, this thought flashed through his mind, and his entire body fell backward.

The man’s corpse happened to get stuck between the tree branches and didn’t fall.

Qiao Zhao’s face was already pale as she gripped the branches, gasping for breath as if her body had been completely drained. Even her fingertips were trembling.

Just now, using hypnosis to confuse that person seemed effortless, but in reality had consumed all her energy. At this moment, her head was splitting with pain, unable to bear the burden.

Even so, Qiao Zhao quickly hugged the tree trunk and slid down.

She didn’t know how to climb trees, and being anxious about Chen Guang’s condition, she let the rough tree bark scrape her tender palms. By the time her feet touched solid ground, her palms were already scraped raw.

Qiao Zhao couldn’t care about these things and stumbled toward Chen Guang.

Chen Guang lay motionless on the ground covered with thick fallen leaves, a patch of dark red beneath him.

Qiao Zhao turned him over, revealing his young, handsome face.

“Chen Guang—” Qiao Zhao tried to feel for Chen Guang’s breathing with trembling fingers, but he was already without breath.

Qiao Zhao’s pupils suddenly contracted. She fumbled in her pouch, but in her anxiety, couldn’t find what she was looking for. She simply tore off the pouch and poured out all the small bottles and jars, grabbed the green small bottle, poured out the Immortal Pills, and stuffed them into Chen Guang’s mouth.

Chen Guang had countless wounds, large and small, all over his body, with the most serious being the knife wound on his back.

Qiao Zhao sprinkled hemostatic powder and tore off her dress hem to bandage him. By the time she finished, her entire body was soaked with cold sweat.

She pressed her ear to Chen Guang’s chest to listen and faintly heard his weak heartbeat. She nearly wept with joy, holding him and whispering, “Chen Guang, can you hear me talking? You must hold on. Didn’t you say you haven’t been married yet and can’t die? I’ll marry Binglu to you, alright? As long as you live well, I’ll betroth Binglu to you…”

Chen Guang’s eyelashes trembled slightly.

Footsteps approached, and a pair of black boots came into view. The shoe owner had long, slender legs.

Qiao Zhao, holding Chen Guang, stiffened completely and slowly raised her head.

The horizon had unknowingly begun to show the pale light of dawn.

Qiao Zhao’s gaze slowly moved upward, first seeing the person’s black clothing hem, then that familiar face with a faint smile at the corners of his mouth.

After their initial eye contact, Jiang Yuanchao suddenly crouched down halfway to look directly into Qiao Zhao’s eyes.

Qiao Zhao held Chen Guang tighter and looked at him without moving.

Jiang Yuanchao suddenly reached out and wiped at the corner of Qiao Zhao’s eye with his finger, his mouth carrying light mockery: “Crying? For a mere personal guard?”

Qiao Zhao pressed her lips tightly together without making a sound, her gaze moving back to fall on Imperial Censor Qiao, who was being held by the remaining man in black.

Seeing that she was still ignoring him at this moment, Jiang Yuanchao felt inexplicably annoyed and sneered: “He’s not dead yet?”

Qiao Zhao secretly clenched her fists and said flatly: “You’re not dead yet, so why would he die?”

These words undoubtedly infuriated Jiang Yuanchao.

His smile suddenly disappeared, and he asked neither warmly nor coldly: “Is that so? Then I’ll send him to meet the King of Hell right now and see whether I’ll die or not.”

He reached out his hand, and Qiao Zhao directly blocked Chen Guang.

Jiang Yuanchao stopped his movement and asked with a half-smile: “What, thinking I won’t bear to harm you?”

Qiao Zhao laughed lightly: “How could Lord Jiang bear not to?”

Jiang Yuanchao looked at her deeply, avoided those inexplicably somewhat familiar eyes, and said flatly: “Good that you have this self-awareness.”

He extended a well-defined, large hand and placed it on the young woman’s neck.

The young woman’s neck was slender and delicate, like a fragile flower stem that could be broken with a gentle snap.

The man’s fingers lightly brushed across, then suddenly tightened.

The feeling of suffocation came, and Qiao Zhao coughed with difficulty while staring unblinkingly at the man who had suddenly struck to kill.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Jiang Yuanchao used his other hand to cover the young woman’s eyes.

Her eyes were too much like that person’s, making his hand unable to apply force.

But this little girl’s life couldn’t be spared.

Originally, he had found her to be a very interesting little girl and couldn’t help paying attention to her. Occasionally, indulging her little temper was nothing.

But she had gotten involved in this muddy water in the south, knew too much, and had struck at him without mercy. He couldn’t possibly let her return alive to the capital.

Qiao Zhao only felt her vision suddenly darken.

Those tightening large hands made breathing difficult and drew away her consciousness. In her mind flashed that brief intersection with the man before her in her previous life.

In the wilderness, a young man with boyish innocence lay by the roadside with a greenish complexion.

She happened to pass by and concluded at a glance that he was poisoned, so she approached to inquire.

From the young man, she learned he had been bitten by a snake. She helped him squeeze out the snake venom and gave him medicinal paste specifically for snake poison, saving his life with a simple gesture.

When parting, he told her his name was “Thirteen.”

At that time, she had thought “Thirteen” must be a name with a story.

And at this moment, Qiao Zhao only wanted to smile bitterly.

She was probably the farmer who saved the poisonous snake. “Thirteen’s” story was the story of the farmer and the snake.

But she didn’t want to die.

Just when the Qiao family’s great revenge was about to be avenged, when her eldest brother’s appearance was about to be restored, how could she be willing to die now?

And there was that person. In the previous life, they had affinity but no fate. In this life, she didn’t want to have fate but no affinity again. She wanted to grow old together with him, loving each other for life.

She was reluctant to die.

A tear rolled from the corner of Qiao Zhao’s eye and fell on Jiang Yuanchao’s fingers that had turned white from exertion.

That tear seemed like boiling water, making Jiang Yuanchao pause his movements.

She was crying—was it because it hurt badly?

At this moment, he couldn’t say what he was feeling either, pressing his thin lips together with determination.

What was wrong with him, still unable to make up his mind even now? Forget it, giving her a quick death would be good too.

Just as Jiang Yuanchao made up his mind, he suddenly heard the young woman’s intermittent voice: “Thir… thirteen…”

Because of throat pain and difficulty breathing, the young woman’s voice was broken and unclear, but falling into Jiang Yuanchao’s ears, it was like a thunderbolt, splitting open his confused and unclear mind.

Jiang Yuanchao’s hand suddenly loosened as he grabbed Qiao Zhao’s wrist and demanded sternly: “What did you call me?”

Qiao Zhao’s fingers moved, wanting to break free from his hand, but couldn’t summon half a bit of strength.

Half a night of highly tense life-and-death escape had already overdrafted all her physical strength and mental energy.

“Tell me, what did you just call me?” Jiang Yuanchao’s voice was suppressed like thick, dark clouds before a storm.

The young woman’s originally lively eyes opened slightly, looking at him without focus, her voice distant: “Thirteen—”

That call of “Thirteen” fell into his ears, and Jiang Yuanchao could hardly control himself. In his mind flashed scene after scene of his encounters with the Qiao family’s young lady like a revolving lantern.

She had saved him, and he said: My name is Thirteen, don’t forget me, Miss.

When they met again, he had already learned that she was the granddaughter of the great scholar Qiao Zhuo and had long been engaged to the second young master of Marquis Jing’an’s residence.

She still smiled tranquilly and calmly: I remember you, Thirteen.