Within the dim yet glimmering river water.
The rain of arrows still scattered down, one after another piercing into the floating corpses that were slowly rising.
Beneath the water, where arrows and bodies crisscrossed and wove past each other.
Lu Dantao cupped Xue Yao’s face with both hands, trying with all her strength to blow air into his mouth.
This was her first time performing artificial respiration. She had only seen it done in TV dramas before.
When watching, it had seemed very simple. Only when actually doing it did she realize how difficult it was.
She observed for quite a while before finally finding the right angle and pressing her lips against his.
But Xue Yao’s mouth was clenched shut as if it had been welded by electricity. No matter what she did, she could not pry it open.
Lu Dantao felt a bit anxious inside.
This would not do. If this dragged on any longer, she would end up dying at Xue Yao’s hands.
She freed one hand and gently pressed it against her chest.
Her chest was starting to ache, as if needles were pricking her from the inside.
She closed her eyes briefly, steeling herself, then narrowed them slightly, aiming at Xue Yao’s lips as she tilted her head and pressed against him once more.
The moment their lips touched, she swiftly extended the tip of her tongue to pry open his lips—
‘Now!’
Xue Yao’s lips parted slightly, and Lu Dantao hurriedly pushed in, her tongue brushing lightly against something soft that resisted her.
That fleeting sensation made her freeze for a moment, and she instinctively lifted her gaze—
Within the dim current, faint, mottled light filtered through, illuminating Xue Yao’s delicately contoured face, his features appearing especially pale amid the shimmering ripples.
Completely like a dead person.
Lu Dantao’s small face scrunched up tightly. She had to hurry.
She pinched her fingertips, forcing herself to concentrate, and in one go delivered the breath she had long prepared into him.
However.
After all her efforts, leaving herself utterly exhausted, Xue Yao showed not the slightest reaction.
Not even a single eyelash moved.
Lu Dantao: …
She had given him so much oxygen, and he did not react at all?
Both anxious and angry, Lu Dantao reached out and patted his face, yet there was still no response whatsoever.
This is bad.
If she had known earlier, she would not have wasted that breath. Now her lungs felt like they were about to explode from the pain.
What should she do?
She knitted her brows tightly, grabbed Xue Yao’s hand, and swam desperately toward the bottom of the river.
She did not dare pause for even a moment. Her legs kicked frantically, feeling like a crazed bullfrog.
Where the exit of the undercurrent was, Lu Dantao did not know.
She only knew that going upward meant being shot through, while going downward might offer a sliver of survival.
The deeper she dived, the more intense the suffocating pain in her chest became, and even her throat filled with a metallic taste.
This was a sign of extreme oxygen deprivation. Lu Dantao knew it.
And precisely because she knew, she felt both angry and upset.
It was all Xue Yao’s fault, that illiterate fool.
He understood nothing, yet still plunged into the water.
She had thought he was impressive, but in the end he was the first to suffocate to death, even dragging her down with him.
Great. Now she was about to become one of the floating corpses in the water as well.
She had long heard that drowning was the cruelest way to die in the world.
Not only was the process of dying extremely painful, but after death there would be swelling, bloating, and after enough time, even bursting.
How ugly.
And…
By now, Pei Di had probably already received the news and rushed to the riverbank.
If, after she drowned, she floated up together with those suspended corpses,
and was seen by Pei Di…
Lu Dantao felt her chest grow even more stifled.
It was said that a person’s death had two forms, one being the destruction of the physical body, and the other being being forgotten by the world.
Lu Dantao thought that she would probably exist forever in this ridiculous male-oriented world.
Only, she would change from the white moonlight that the villain wanted to forcibly possess into a grain of plain rice he felt fortunate not to have obtained when he woke from midnight dreams.
How embarrassing.
At the moment her consciousness was about to fade, she watched the streams of bubbles escaping from her mouth and felt a deep sense of sorrow.
She was dirty.
Now, whether she died or not, she was no different from the floating corpses in this river.
Forget it.
So be it.
If there was a next life, she hoped she would never meet Xue Yao again.
She closed her eyes in resignation, letting her consciousness and senses gradually peel away, until the world sank completely into darkness.
Her body slowly drifted downward, and the fingers that had been tightly gripping Xue Yao’s wrist loosened one by one.
However, in the very next instant, the hand that had just slipped from her palm suddenly twisted back, swiftly gripping her slender wrist again.
With a sharp pull, she was dragged completely into his arms, narrowly evading the final wave of arrows.
Xue Yao turned his head and cast a cold glance at the river surface, mottled with light, then tightened his hold on her as he moved against the current, weaving through the cluster of floating corpses and diving swiftly toward the depths of the river.
*
Above the river, the wind blew bleak and cold.
The sun hung high in the sky, nearing midday.
On the wreckage-strewn riverbank, a refined young man was bending down, picking up the arrows scattered across the ground.
His fingers idly toyed with the shaft of an arrow. His gaze was deep, and his tone carried not the slightest trace of emotion.
“So you’re saying they jumped into the river themselves and never came back up?”
“Yes.” The one replying was the burly man Xiong San. He knelt on the ground, enduring the intense pain as he supported himself with one hand.
“This subordinate had intended to kill Xue Yao first, then escort Miss Lu to the master’s side. Who would have thought that Xue Yao was so cunning, actually luring her into jumping into the river together. This subordinate had no choice but to shoot arrows at them, in order to rescue Miss Lu.”
He lowered his eyelids. Cold sweat slid from his temples to his lashes, dripping straight onto the grass.
He had originally planned that once he obtained the two bodies, the dead would tell no tales, and Pei Di would have no way to pursue the matter.
But who could have expected that he would arrive so quickly.
Pei Di curled his lips slightly, his gaze sweeping over the floating corpses on the river’s surface. “Is that so?”
“This subordinate would not dare to lie.”
Thinking of the fate of his two brothers that night, Xiong San ground his teeth in hatred.
Ever since that dog Pei had taken over the Eagle Guard, they had not had a single peaceful day.
In the past, they only needed to thoroughly investigate the matters within their duties.
The former Commander, Lord Zhao, had even shown consideration for their hardships and would grant them time to rest.
Now, not only were they toiling day and night, they were also beaten and scolded at every turn.
Just because that Lu family girl had escaped, his fellow comrades Xiong Da and Xiong Er had been beaten until their flesh was torn and mangled, almost turned into useless cripples.
That Pei Di was nothing more than a scum who killed the innocent to claim merit.
A vile dog who had only risen to power by stepping over the heads of his fiancée’s entire family!
What right did he have!
Filled with hatred, Xiong San raised his eyes, only to meet Pei Di’s gaze head-on.
His heart instantly turned cold.
Those were eyes without warmth, sharp as if they could pierce straight through a person’s soul.
Even though it was clearly morning, he felt as if he were about to be swallowed by darkness at any moment.
Xiong San could not help but shrink back.
Pei Di let out a light laugh. “A lie.”
Xiong San’s pupils contracted sharply. “This subordinate has not!”
He dragged his body forward a few steps, blood trailing across the grass.
“This subordinate heard it clearly. That Xue Yao did indeed first ask Miss Lu whether she could swim. Only after receiving her nod did he pull her into his arms and jump into the river together.”
Ting Feng frowned tightly as he listened. He glanced at Xiong San, then cautiously observed Pei Di’s expression. Seeing that his face remained unchanged, he stepped forward and said:
“Master, this subordinate wonders if that woman might only resemble Miss Lu to some degree?”
He chose his words carefully. “After all… the cliff was so steep. An ordinary person would have no chance of survival.”
“When Wen Yu led people to search the bottom of the cliff, it was indeed found that the carriage and servants below had all… become remains. Although Miss’s body was not found, it is also possible that she fell into the lake…”
“Moreover, Miss and Xue Yao were never acquainted. Although both set out from the capital, trying to connect the two of them… is truly rather difficult.”
Pei Di shook his head and looked toward the river, as if trying to see through the deep waters to everything at the bottom.
The first time he met Lu Dantao was ten years ago, in an autumn Daoist temple.
At that time, Lu Dantao was still a little Daoist child with twin buns tied in her hair.
She was delicate and pretty like a carved jade doll.
Young, innocent, and also greedy for food.
They had only just met, yet she had already taken a liking to the sugar pastry in his hand, which he had bought for his legitimate elder brother.
And he had been worrying about how to get rid of that greasy thing, so he simply handed it to her.
From then on, Lu Dantao always liked to follow behind him, like a little shadow he could not shake off.
Because of this, he had seen almost all of her expressions and states—panic, coquettishness, falling into water, blushing.
He also knew all her little habits. When she was nervous, she would pick at her nails. When she was happy, she would play with her hair. When she felt wronged, she would get angry first…
He might mistake anyone else, but he would never mistake her.
“I would not mistake her,” his voice was low. “The woman in the mountains that day was Ah Tao.”
“Do you think… she resents me?” Pei Di said softly, as if asking someone else, or perhaps asking himself.
Ting Feng did not dare to reply.
After a few breaths, they only heard Pei Di let out a faint sigh. “Ah Tao is afraid of water. She would not have entered the river on her own.”
Then, with a casual flick of his fingers, he tossed the arrow he had been toying with toward Xiong San.
“Kill him.”
“Send the body to Lord Zhao. Since he was so close with the former Commander, let him go keep Zhao Xuebao company.”
Xiong San’s eyes widened abruptly. Before he could even speak in defense, Ting Feng’s silver sword flashed, and he became a corpse.
The river wind whistled, sweeping across the water, carrying with it the scent of blood and dampness.
Huang Jiu squeezed into the crowd, trembling as he raised his eyes, secretly glancing toward Pei Di.
From late last night until now, a full day and night had passed.
Only at this moment did Huang Jiu truly get a clear look at the face of this Commander Pei, whose power overshadowed the court.
Just past twenty, with a face like polished jade, his bearing was cold and detached, like a banished immortal.
He stood alone at the riverbank. His black robe embroidered with gold stirred slightly in the wind, his eyes still fixed on the river’s surface, no one knowing what he was thinking.
Huang Jiu recalled that the day before yesterday, when he had been kneeling in the hall, he had accidentally glimpsed two paintings hanging high in the inner chamber—
One was slightly yellowed, as if it had been there for many years. In the painting, a youth in red rode a galloping horse, full of spirit and vigor.
The other depicted a young girl sleeping soundly in a pavilion, a cinnabar mole at the center of her brow. She lay among blooming flowers, yet she was more beautiful than the flowers themselves.
At that time, the expression on Commander Pei’s face as he gazed at the painting of the beauty in the pavilion had been exactly the same as it was now.
Regret, remembrance, and a trace of indescribable confusion.
Sensing Pei Di’s gaze sweeping over, Huang Jiu immediately averted his eyes, not daring to look any longer.
As he looked around, his attention was drawn to several corpses in the river. Huang Jiu frowned tightly and looked more closely—
These…
The clothing on these bodies…
Why did these garments look so familiar!
Huang Jiu was greatly alarmed, not yet having time to figure it out.
Yet at that moment, Pei Di suddenly raised his arm.
Huang Jiu instinctively turned his gaze, only to see a pure white parrot swoop down from the sky, landing steadily on his armguard.
He slowly turned his head and happened to meet Huang Jiu’s eyes.
Huang Jiu’s heart trembled, and he hurriedly lowered his head.
“Huang Jiu.”
“M-My Lord…” Huang Jiu stepped forward trembling.
“You said you are quite familiar with this area. Then do you know where the waters below might lead?”
Huang Jiu raised his head and swallowed, replying with utmost respect, “In reply to you, my lord.”
“This commoner does not know.”
“Does not know?” Pei Di lifted his arm slightly, letting the white bird perch upon his shoulder. His tone remained calm. “That is not what you promised the day before yesterday.”
Huang Jiu’s heart clenched sharply.
He furtively glanced around at the wreckage and scattered arrows, then cast a look at Xiong San’s corpse with its head separated from the body. With a thud, he dropped to his knees.
“This commoner truly does not know! The terrain of Xiaomao Mountain is complex. This commoner only knows that the river flows from deep within the mountains.”
“As for whether there are hidden passages beneath the water… this commoner has never explored them and truly does not dare to speak recklessly.”
Pei Di slowly paced to stand before him. His voice came from above his head, close in distance, yet sounding strangely distant and ethereal. “Oh?”
“If I remember correctly, over the past half year, you have repeatedly entered and exited this mountain under Lord Huang’s instructions… Surely you were not coming here just to pick mushrooms?”
Huang Jiu felt as if struck by lightning, frozen where he knelt.
So the Eagle Guard had already known everything.
So Pei Di had been waiting all along for him to confess it himself?
Did that mean that Lord Huang had already been exposed and lost his life?
Huang Jiu did not dare to think further.
His face was ashen, his words tumbling out incoherently. “This commoner… this commoner was only following orders… My lord, he… he had a fondness for collecting young girls.”
“At the time, this commoner only helped him in these mountains… to find a secluded place to detain those abducted women…”
Suddenly, he paused, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, as if making up his mind about something, before slowly speaking again:
“Who would have thought that some time ago, Lord Huang discovered a salt mine there, and then conceived the idea of trading in illegal salt. He ordered this commoner to lead people to escort captured rebels into the mountains…”
“The corpses in the river… this commoner took a closer look just now. They seem to be servants of the Huang family.”
Pei Di’s voice was soft, carrying a faint hint of approval and guidance. “Continue.”
“Perhaps… perhaps within this river… there is a way to reach that place of imprisonment.”
“If someone were to reach the valley where the salt mine is located, they would be able to escape far away, and it would be impossible to capture them again.”
Huang Jiu suddenly lifted his head. In his eyes were mixed greed, fear, and flattery as he met Pei Di’s assessing gaze directly.
“This commoner knows the route and is willing to serve you with utmost loyalty!”
“I will certainly be able to assist you in rescuing Miss and eliminating the villains!”