Chapter 8

The rain had stopped, but the clouds hadn’t dispersed. A solitary star hung in the northeast corner of the pitch-black night sky. Gu Wan tilted her head, trying hard to recall—was there a prison break in her previous life? She didn’t think so. Could it be that the other side gave up midway or encountered some obstacle? But she wasn’t particularly surprised. After all, some things had already changed. For instance, in her past life, the prison escort leader wasn’t Feng Linde. A butterfly effect was only natural.

They watched for a while. There were many people—fifteen to twenty or so. Once all the livestock had been driven out from the barns, a man and a woman emerged from the other side of the wall. In the darkness, their features were indistinguishable, but they were young, mounted on horseback, each flanked by a guard.

After stepping out, they swept their gaze around. At that, Xie Ci pressed on Gu Wan’s back, and the two of them immediately ducked low. The man was exceedingly perceptive; the first place his gaze fixed was their direction. But Xie Ci was no amateur—he picked up a cricket and tossed it to the left. The cricket chirped shrilly, leaping off the grass. The man’s gaze followed the sound, then shifted away.

The group didn’t linger; herding the livestock, they quickly left. Xie Ci and Gu Wan departed soon after, the dull thunder of hooves and cattle pounding toward the road and out into the wild. Xie Ci bent low, and Gu Wan deftly leapt onto his back. The wet grass swayed as he carried her away.

This time, the blisters on Gu Wan’s feet were especially large. She needed to heal quickly—it would be best not to walk if she could avoid it, lest it affect their next steps. Xie Ci carrying her was nothing new; both of them were well-practiced.

They entered the inner part of the small town from the outskirts. Xie Ci vaulted silently into the inn, pushed open the door to a half-worn guest room in the backyard, and closed it behind them.

For convenience, they’d splurged on a room with its own entrance in the rear courtyard.

Gu Wan yawned, turned up the oil lamp, and took off her shoes. After a moment’s thought, she carefully took out a small porcelain bottle from her bosom, dabbed a little golden wound salve on her feet. The medicine was truly effective—by morning, she’d likely be able to walk again.

The small guest room had a modest earthen bed, just large enough for two people to sleep at either end. In the dim lamplight, Xie Ci watched Gu Wan, who was focused intently on cleaning and dressing her foot. Her face was still youthful, her hair disheveled and dusty.

He asked, “Are you afraid?”

He felt a pang of guilt. If Gu Wan was afraid, he’d go alone.

Afraid?

Not at all.

Gu Wan was bold and unafraid of risk. After all, earning enough for a big apartment in a major city in just two years wasn’t easy. She simply disliked unnecessary trouble and reckless risks; if it was necessary, she didn’t hesitate.

She replied, “A little, but we have to rescue our sisters-in-law and Ming’er.”

She flopped onto the bedding, shaking out her outer robe and pulling it over her belly. “Get some sleep—we’ll have to get up early tomorrow! Maybe we’ll find an opportunity then.”

Exhausted, she fell asleep almost instantly. The rest of her words trailed off, dissolving into soft breaths.

The half-filled medicine bottle rolled to the edge of her pillow.

Xie Ci sat for a while, gazing at her sleeping face, then quietly gathered the bottle and other stray items, tucking them into their bundle.

He puffed out the oil lamp; the small room fell into darkness, and he lay down as well.

Once his breathing had deepened, Gu Wan opened her eyes.

She stared at the faintly glowing window, blinked, then glanced at Xie Ci at the other end of the kang. He lay on his side, fully clothed, one hand resting on the hilt of his long blade.

In the shadowy darkness, only the sharp line of his nose and the deep arch of his brow could be faintly seen.

These days, he was as jumpy as a startled bird—so young, yet forced to bear everything alone. He never slept deeply; the slightest noise would wake him. But Gu Wan’s movements never alarmed him, just as now—she watched him for ages, but he slept on undisturbed.

She exhaled, looked away. After so many days on foot, she was nearly at her limit. Now, finally, the critical moment to save the Xie family had arrived! She was almost moved to tears.

Once she got them out, she’d have fulfilled her initial goal and lived up to the boy’s trust. Once they were settled, she could finally start the business she’d always dreamed of—a tavern, perhaps.

She just wondered if making money here was as easy as in her past life.

In any case, she hoped tomorrow would go smoothly.

…

Gu Wan rolled over and slept.

At dawn, she was awakened by the uproar and shouting outside the inn. Hardly had there been any sound before Xie Ci was up in a flash. Gu Wan rubbed her eyes and scrambled up. They cracked the window just a sliver and saw people and horses rushing about, cursing and yelling.

Soon, the whole town knew—last night, livestock had been stolen from four different post stations. The great merchant had booked the entire inn, but all the barns had been cleared out!

Gu Wan was dumbfounded. “No way, four places?”

So the other group had hit three as well—what a grand operation.

Still, for them, the enemy of their enemy was their friend. Their goals aligned; the bigger the diversion, the better for them.

The town was abuzz. County constables soon arrived, following the tracks of the cattle and horses in another direction.

Gu Wan realized—the other side had split the livestock in two, maybe three, driving them off elsewhere to draw the uproar away.

A clever tactic.

Strength in numbers.

With nothing left to do in town, all was well. Gu Wan snapped her fingers. After making inquiries, they left at once. Gu Wan rode, driving the livestock, Xie Ci quickly caught up with the main group of exiles, searching for an opportunity.

…

Summer dawned early; the exile convoy set out at first light. Dressed in worn gray clothes, the convicts hurriedly washed and tidied themselves, pushing carts, carrying loads, bearing loved ones on their backs, wiping away tears, trudging forward.

Many died of illness along the road; blood blisters were universal. Those without help could only lie down and await death. Those with family, no matter how desperate, refused to give up and carried their loved ones, praying to reach Tieling, the place of exile, as soon as possible—at least then, they wouldn’t have to walk anymore.

Clouds churned overhead; the air was stifling and hot. The official road, soaked by heavy rain, was a mess of mud. Second Sister-in-law Xie usually carried her three-year-old niece, but today, unusually, she passed the child to her ten-year-old daughter. She supported her sister-in-law with one arm, held her five-year-old son’s hand with the other, and gripped a dry branch as a walking stick.

Last night, she’d quietly sharpened the end of it.

Since receiving Xie Ci’s letter, she’d been anxious and worried. Now, all the Xie family members waited in suspense.

Second Sister-in-law Xie, a general’s daughter with keen insight, whispered that the hills ahead were the most likely place. If nothing happened there, then it would be when they stopped to cook at midday—they should sit as close to the edge as possible, not by the river.

…

Mid-morning, a heavy rain fell. By late morning, the clouds cleared and the sun blazed down, the temperature soaring.

It was humid and stifling. The ground was soaked; there was nowhere dry enough to cook. The soldiers and guards grumbled and cursed, lashing out with whips. The exiles were driven in circles, harried and beaten.

The whole convoy was miserable and exhausted, but it was a rare chance. Xie Ci gave Gu Wan a signal. Not far away, she understood, slipped away, and returned half an hour later. The livestock was ready. She’d wrapped her sleeves and pant legs tightly with new cloth, a metal buckle at her waist to secure her dagger and sword, and handed Xie Ci a set as well.

He dressed quickly, wrapping the cloth around his palm for protection. He took off his conical hat, which Gu Wan seized and put on her own head.

Their first task was to take out the sentries.

They moved lightly and quickly. Xie Ci had scouted the sentry points thoroughly—four in total, one at each compass point. They needed to deal with the western and southern ones.

One would lure, the other would strike. The first sentry had harassed Third Sister-in-law Xie and Xie Ci’s eldest niece, Xie Rou. Xie Ci’s blade was swift and ruthless; steel pierced flesh, blood sprayed.

Panting, he grabbed Gu Wan’s hand and darted through the grass toward the south. But as they closed in on the second sentry, a flash of silver gleamed nearby. Xie Ci narrowed his eyes, instantly pulling Gu Wan back.

A sharp, whistling sound split the air—a steel crossbow bolt shot out, striking the sentry square in the brow. The man toppled, eyes wide.

The other group was close enough to notice them. Xie Ci frowned, so did the other side. They stared at each other across the wet grass, then slowly retreated.

“It must be those people from last night.”

Xie Ci gathered his strength, leapt down the hillside with Gu Wan. The wind howled past. Gu Wan was envious—inner martial arts skills were truly formidable, though in modern times, such arts had faded away.

But now wasn’t the time to discuss that. She whispered, “Looks like they’re making their move too.”

They’d chosen the same moment.

“It’s actually better this way.”

More chaos, more people—it would help them.

No matter; they’d already discussed that if they ran into the other group, they’d use each other’s momentum.

Gu Wan said, “I just wonder who they’re rescuing, and whether they’re close to our family.”

If they were, it would save a lot of effort.

Everything that could be planned had been; the other group was clearly here for a prison break too.

But what neither Gu Wan nor Xie Ci expected was that their targets overlapped.

They were after the Xie family as well.

…

With much cursing and noise, the meal was finally cooked. The wet firewood sent up thick blue smoke, making everyone’s eyes water. At last, the water boiled and the food was done. The day’s rations—two coarse buns per exile—were handed out. In groups, they squatted, gnawing slowly. No one dared sit, but any small dry patch was a blessing, a better chance to survive.

The soldiers spread oilcloths, sat back to back with their blades tossed aside, tearing open their collars and gulping down steamed buns and vegetables.

“This weather—if it doesn’t clear up, our vegetables will spoil. It’s two days to Xingzhou with no towns on the way!”

“Bah, enough! Damn it…”

Just then, a sudden rumble—hoofbeats!

Because the Fen River was swollen and roaring, no one noticed the horses until they were almost upon them. The lead horse was whipped fiercely, rearing with a shrill neigh. The herd thundered down the slope, crashing into the soldiers at the edge and then straight into the crowd!

On the other side, another herd—this time even including cattle—charged in.

The other group wasn’t far away. They’d been aware of the movement in the grass, but Xie Ci was too vigilant—when the other side tested the waters, he’d drawn his blade immediately, making them retreat.

Each minded their own business.

Now, with the camp in chaos, horses and cattle everywhere, Xie Ci and Gu Wan didn’t hesitate. They urged their mounts forward, aiming straight for the Xie family!

Second Sister-in-law and the others sprang up, running toward them.

It was a tremendous risk, but the best possible moment to meet. Xie Ci and Gu Wan spurred their horses, but were stunned to see another group also charging toward the Xie family.

Inside and out, both sides were shocked. Nothing in their bamboo message had told them to expect this, and Second Sister-in-law was momentarily at a loss—were these friends or foes?

“Are these your relatives?!”

“I’ve never seen them!”

As Xie Ci watched the stranger leap from the saddle, snatching up Third Sister-in-law and her daughter along with Xie Rou, his eyes widened with rage. He flung away his whip and, with a flash, sprang into the fray.

In a heartbeat, the two sides clashed, blows exchanged within a single breath. Second Sister-in-law rushed up, staff in hand.

And then the soldiers reacted. The deputy was Feng Linde’s confidant; braving danger, he drew his blade and ordered the guards to attack.

Three sides collided—blood, hooves, the shrill cries of horses—while Gu Wan’s sharp eyes spotted a woman with long hair crouched in the tall grass on the hillside.

She was dressed as a man, hair tied back, mounted, with a bodyguard at her side.

This was the young woman who had ridden out last night, surrounded by guards.

As soon as Gu Wan caught sight of her, she whipped her horse forward—a powerful steed, it neighed and charged straight ahead.

The three groups merged in furious battle; in the chaos, Gu Wan took out the bodyguard and grappled with the woman in purple. With deft moves, she pinned her down, face to face.

The woman was stunningly beautiful—pale, alluring, with a supple waist and ample curves—a true beauty.

Gu Wan was a little surprised to see her face, though it didn’t slow her hands in the slightest.

What she didn’t expect was that the other woman was even more shocked.

When she finally saw Gu Wan’s small face through the tangled hair, she forgot to even struggle.

She gasped, “How are you still alive?!”

Gu Wan: ???

“…Are you out of your mind?!”

Gu Wan was baffled. What was wrong with this person? Why shouldn’t she be alive?

Clearly, the woman was crazy!