The dark clouds in the sky grew thicker. Though the air was cool, it felt oppressive. The family drove the ox cart to the village entrance, where the exiles gradually gathered under the watch of the guards.
The last to arrive was the second household—the Xu family. Xu looked at the family seated in the ox cart, eyes flashing with deep resentment. Her gut twisted in regret. Had she known that they would manage so well on the journey of exile, she wouldn’t have avoided the main family out of fear of being taken advantage of.
Nangong Ping felt an unbearable shame, his head almost touching his chest. His family lacked any wilderness survival skills and had been surviving entirely on the silver sent by Xu’s maternal family. At waystations or village stops, they could buy buns and some meat and vegetables, but when camping in broken temples or the wild, they had to pay high prices to the guards just to fill their stomachs. Silver never lasts forever. His youngest child constantly demanded meat, and his daughter cried daily about her aching feet, all under Xu’s strict control. He could only remain silent, and his passivity only made Xu more irritable.
Passing the ox cart, Xu spat harshly at Su Niyue and muttered under her breath, “Jinxed woman!”
Su Niyue reacted instantly. As Xu finished, she fired back: “You’re worse than pigs and dogs!” Using her earth-element ability, a pit suddenly opened beneath Xu’s feet. She fell, and as her face hit the ground, a pile of cow dung appeared—Xu’s head plunged right in. The surrounding exiles burst into laughter.
Su Niyue kicked her feet in delight, giggling. How ridiculous—this filthy thing dared to provoke me!
Nangong Yunteng, hearing the commotion and Su Niyue’s thoughts, marveled: How did she do that? Though he hadn’t seen it, the reactions of those around him gave him a pretty clear picture.
Xu rolled over to sit up, quickly cleaning cow dung off her face. She gagged several times, trying to avoid vomiting. That chicken she had bought from the guards last night was precious—she couldn’t risk losing it.
Su Niyue saw her clean herself quickly, pursed her lips, and mentally noted: I should have given her a proper mess to clean—let’s see how she manages that!
Yunteng wanted to laugh a little; this girl was mischievous but he liked her.
Covered in cow dung and mocked by everyone, Xu was furious. Her eyes bulged as she pointed at the exiles, cursing: “You damned lot! How dare you laugh at me—you’ll all die miserably!”
The exiles, normally fearing the guards’ whips, didn’t fear a disgraced old woman. They shouted back:
Shouts rose. Some exiles even started swinging at her. If it weren’t for the cow dung on her face, they might have grabbed her by the neck.
The chief guard Liu Quan, enjoying the spectacle for a moment, decided it was enough. He didn’t want internal conflicts among prisoners during the escort—it would be his responsibility if discovered. But seeing Xu’s rage and that she had just pointed at him, he raised his hand and whipped her arm: “Shut your filthy mouth! Move out!”
Seeing Xu whipped, the exiles vented their frustration and lined up properly, waiting for the command to depart.
Xu, now angrier, couldn’t scold the guards and twisted Nangong Ping’s waist: “You useless coward! I’m being bullied, and you can’t even stand up for me!”
Ping grimaced in pain, looking at Xu, now covered in dung, and gagged.
Xu screamed in a frenzy.
The main group of exiles had already started moving, but Xu continued causing a scene.
A guard casually whipped her back. This time it left no room—her skin tore, blood streaming. “Shrew, still not done?”
Xu clenched her teeth, wiped the dung from her face with her sleeve. Lifting her arm pulled on the back wound, causing her to hiss. Ping avoided her like a plague, walking beside his concubine Wu and even their children, who avoided her stench. Xu’s anger turned to Wu, but she dared not act—the guard who whipped her still stood behind. She could only move forward alone with the group.
The matriarch looked at the scene with shame. No matter what, Xu was her daughter-in-law. She had always known Xu to be hypocritical but never imagined she could be this cruel. Seeing her son endure, she felt helpless. He had chosen Xu himself—she had opposed it, but her second son was infatuated and insisted on marrying Xu.
Ruan Mingyu, seeing the matriarch’s expression, understood. She stayed silent, gently massaging the matriarch’s leg.
Su Niyue sensed the tension in the ox cart and softly began singing:
“Nothing can stop you, your yearning for freedom, your wild, unrestrained life, your heart unburdened…”
Yunteng, listening, felt guilty. Her voice was so clear and beautiful, full of longing for freedom, running wild. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes. Her freedom had been destroyed—not by him, but by the dog emperor! Everything belonging to her and their family had been taken. He vowed silently to reclaim it all for her and for himself.
Those nearby who could hear Su Niyue’s singing were moved. Many of the exiles were innocent—they had been framed or caught in political schemes, or were obstacles to corrupt officials—but what could they do?
Ruan Mingyu, hearing Su Niyue’s song, looked down at her still-unconscious son. Seeing the tear slip from Yunteng’s eye, she felt moved but showed no emotion. She gently squeezed the matriarch’s hand, signaling her to notice Yunteng.
The matriarch saw the tear slide into Yunteng’s hair near his ear. She pressed Ruan Mingyu’s hand, glanced outside, wiped her own tears with her sleeve, and allowed a faint smile of relief.
Ruan Mingyu held her son’s hand, squeezing it repeatedly. Yunteng felt the tenderness, and tears flowed again. She wiped his eyes with her sleeve, lowered the cart’s curtains, and sat beside him. Feeling the gentle darkness and her touch, Yunteng slowly opened his eyes.