The Nangong family, escorted in silence by the common people, arrived outside the capital and merged with another group of exiles. After the Imperial Guards handed them over to the escorting officers, the dozen or so members of the Nangong family were integrated into the exile convoy.
Thus began their journey of banishment.
On Su Niyue’s right was Nangong Yunqi pushing the cart. On her left, she held Nangong Yunran’s hand. Further ahead, Ruan Mingyu supported the old madam. They walked at the very end of the line, while ahead of them were the second branch of the Nangong family and the concubines with their children.
Su Niyue kept a constant eye on Nangong Yunteng. After leaving the city, she raised the oil-paper umbrella over him again and covered him with Yunqi’s outer robe. He remained unconscious. The once-bright red wedding trousers were now unrecognizable, soaked dark with blood. The bandages that had once been fresh with bleeding were now a deep, dried crimson—proof that the bleeding had stopped.
Still, the uneven road caused the cart to jolt occasionally. Each time, Yunqi’s brows would knit slightly. Su Niyue knew he feared his brother’s pain. Quietly, she used her earth-element ability to soften and level the road beneath the cart.
The entire convoy, nearly two hundred people including the Nangong family, was silent. Most of them wore prisoner uniforms—broken down by prison hardship, stripped of spirit. They walked with heads lowered, not daring to speak. Perhaps they feared the barbed whips carried by the forty to fifty escorting guards lining both sides of the group. At the front were carts carrying cooking pots and provisions.
Su Niyue sighed inwardly. Even in this difficult situation, it was still a hundred times better than the apocalyptic modern world she had come from. At least people here had not descended into madness and slaughter. At least famine would eventually pass. At least they still had family.
Suddenly, the old madam faltered. A mouthful of blood spilled from her lips.
“Mother! What’s wrong?” Ruan Mingyu cried out in alarm, her last pillar of support nearly collapsing.
“Grandmother!” Yunran burst into tears.
“Let me take a look!” Su Niyue stepped forward and checked her pulse.
Crack! The guard behind them snapped his whip in the air. “Keep moving!”
“Sir, my grandmother is coughing blood!” Yunqi quickly explained, afraid the whip would strike his family.
“Coughing blood? As long as she’s not dead, she keeps walking!” the guard sneered.
“Sir, do you know what this is?” Su Niyue pointed to the dragon-headed cane in the old madam’s hand.
The guard froze slightly. The dragon symbol represented the emperor—no ordinary person could use it. This was clearly an imperial bestowal. Another guard quietly pulled him aside and whispered, “That’s a cane bestowed by the late emperor. Let them be.”
Seeing the guard step back, Su Niyue quickly retrieved a small bottle from her sleeve, poured out a brown pill, and placed it into the old madam’s mouth.
“Grandmother, keep it under your tongue.”
The old madam immediately felt a refreshing clarity spread through her mind.
“She just suffered a surge of blood and qi. Spitting it out is actually good,” Su Niyue reassured Ruan Mingyu.
Only then did Ruan Mingyu relax. “As long as she’s alright…”
“Grandmother, if you feel unwell, you must tell me. You can’t hide it anymore,” Su Niyue said meaningfully.
The old madam nodded. At first, she had been relieved not to worry her daughter-in-law, but now she was astonished by Su Niyue’s medical skill. With her caring for Nangong Yunteng, she could finally feel at ease.
Soon, she was even more surprised—the medicine had not yet fully dissolved, yet the stabbing pain in her chest had already eased, and the tightness had vanished.
At last, she could no longer hold back her tears. She nodded at Su Niyue.
A blessing… this child is truly a blessing to the Nangong family.
Su Niyue gently squeezed her hand and shook her head slightly. The old madam understood—this was not something to reveal. If the emperor learned of her abilities, Nangong Yunteng would be in greater danger.
At noon, many people gathered along the roadside—relatives seeing off the exiles. This was their only chance to meet and say farewell. Families took the opportunity to bring food and money.
The escorting officers did not interfere. The more money the prisoners had, the more “benefits” the guards could extract along the way.
Among them were members of Lady Xu’s family. They said little, leaving behind a bundle before quickly departing. Her father, who had gained a minor official post through connections with the Nangong family, dared to come only because his position drew little attention.
Su Niyue and the others sat under a tree, watching the scene.
At that moment, a carriage stopped behind her. A maid stepped down and tossed her a letter without a word before leaving.
Su Niyue froze.
She didn’t know anyone here outside those around her—who would write to her?
Opening it, she understood.
It was a letter of severance from her scumbag father.
Inside, she felt a surge of joy—but her expression remained calm. She casually slipped the letter into her sleeve, actually storing it in her space.
“Grandmother, Mother, Prime Minister Su has given me a severance letter!”
She made no effort to lower her voice. Everyone nearby heard clearly.
Some prisoners looked down on the Prime Minister’s actions. Others found it understandable—after all, Nangong Yunteng had been exiled for treason.
Ruan Mingyu, however, felt a pang of heartache. The old madam sighed.
“They’re just trying to avoid suspicion. Child, you’ve suffered.”
She patted Su Niyue’s hand.
Leaning close, Su Niyue whispered softly, “Grandmother, I’m actually very happy. I’ve finally broken free from that family. Life from now on will only get better.”
The old madam’s heart ached even more.
Just how much had this child suffered in that household…
Lady Xu secretly opened the bundle from her father. Inside were a few sets of clothes, some banknotes, bits of silver, and white flour buns. She quickly led her family away, afraid the main branch would take their food.
Even the concubine from the second branch received a small bundle from her family. Timid by nature and often bullied by Lady Xu, she also retreated with her child, afraid of trouble.
At that moment, the guards brought over a basin of dark, coarse rations, handing one piece to each person.
Su Niyue took one and squeezed—it was as hard as stone.
She didn’t want to eat it.
But she had nothing on her. If she suddenly took out soft buns from nowhere, not only would the prisoners and guards panic—even those beside her would be shocked.
Just as she was hesitating—
A fast horse approached in a cloud of dust, stopping beside them.
“Yue’er!”
Su Niyue instinctively touched her ear, quickly searching through the original owner’s memories.
Then she called out:
“Uncle!”