They rode for quite a while before they finally spotted him.
Lu Xuan was squatting at the front of the cart, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees and his head lowered. The cart crawled forward at a snail’s pace, its wheels creaking over the uneven road.
Dried blood stained his clothes, and his face was pale. His shoulders were hunched, and his entire body seemed tense, as though he were still waiting for another attack.
He looked utterly terrified.
"Brother Xuan!"
Xiao Lin’s voice carried across the road.
Lu Xuan immediately turned his head, his eyes widening in apparent ’panic’.
But the moment he recognized the approaching figures, his shoulders visibly relaxed. He let out a long, shaky breath, as though he had finally found someone he could rely on.
"You... you’ve come..."
His voice trembled, and for a moment, he seemed too exhausted even to finish the sentence.
He ’struggled’ to climb down from the cart, but the instant his feet touched the ground, his legs buckled beneath him. He collapsed onto the roadside, as though the fear he had been suppressing had finally overwhelmed him now that help had arrived.
"Brother Xuan!"
Xiao Lin hurried over and grabbed his arm, helping him back to his feet.
"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"
"I’m... I’m fine..."
Lu Xuan’s voice was weak, and his body continued to tremble slightly.
Old Guo limped over a moment later. His expression was still dark with anger over the ambush, but when he saw the blood covering Lu Xuan’s clothes, his irritation gave way to suspicion and concern.
"Are you hurt?"
"No..." Lu Xuan quickly shook his head. "It’s... it’s the horse’s blood."
He pointed toward the horse lying by the roadside. His hand was still shaking slightly, completing the appearance of a man who had barely escaped with his life.
Old Guo followed his gesture and looked at the dead horse.
"Damn it," he muttered. "First the bandits, then the horse. What a miserable day."
Ye Qingyi arrived last.
She reined in her horse and looked down at Lu Xuan, her expression unreadable.
Unlike Xiao Lin, she didn’t rush to comfort him. Her gaze moved slowly over his face, his hands, and the bloodstained clothes hanging loosely from his frame.
"What about those mountain bandits?"
Lu Xuan’s eyes widened, and his expression turned blank.
"I... I don’t know."
He swallowed, as though the question had brought back an unpleasant memory.
"I ran as fast as I could... They didn’t catch up."
Ye Qingyi stared at him.
There was blood on his clothes. Blood stained his hands, too. Yet beneath the torn fabric, she could see no obvious wound. His movements were awkward and hesitant, but not those of a man struggling with a serious injury.
For three long seconds, she said nothing, then she finally looked away.
"...Let’s go. We need to leave this place."
Whatever had happened, there was no point in remaining on the mountain road to investigate. They had already lost valuable time, and the surviving bandits might return with reinforcements.
Old Guo grumbled as he climbed back onto his horse, still furious.
"Damn it. This trip was a huge loss. We lost a horse, wasted half a day, and nearly got ourselves killed. If I’d known this would happen, I would never have taken the job."
Xiao Lin ignored his complaints and helped Lu Xuan back onto the cart. Before stepping away, he patted Lu Xuan’s shoulder reassuringly.
"It’s okay, Brother Xuan. You’re safe now."
Lu Xuan nodded weakly.
"Yeah..."
He lowered his eyes, concealing the faint smile that threatened to appear at the corner of his mouth.
He had to admit that pretending to be frightened was more exhausting than he had expected.
Ye Qingyi rode at the very back of the group.
For a long time, she said nothing. The sound of hooves and the creaking cart filled the silence as the mountain road stretched behind them.
She turned in her saddle and looked back.
The trail was already growing distant, but she could still make out the bodies scattered along it.
Ten corpses.
Ten mountain bandits who had chased Lu Xuan. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Even from this distance, the unnatural condition of their bodies was difficult to mistake. Each had been killed with a single punch, their chests pierced clean through. The sight was brutal, but it was also strangely precise.
It looked less like the aftermath of a desperate struggle and more like a message written in blood.
Ye Qingyi’s eyes narrowed.
Then she looked toward Lu Xuan’s back.
He was slumped over on the cart, his shoulders lowered, his posture making him look every bit like a frightened man who had barely survived the attack.
The contrast was almost absurd, Ye Qingyi didn’t say anything.
She simply turned around and continued riding.
Three days later.
Lu Xuan pushed open the door.
Inside, Shen Yuyan was cooking beside the stove. The familiar sounds of a fire crackling beneath the pot filled the small house, and the smell of simmering food lingered in the air.
The moment she heard the door creak, she turned around.
"Husband, you’re back?"
The joy in her voice lasted only an instant.
The moment she saw him clearly, everything she had been holding inside for the past three days broke loose.
She rushed toward him.
But halfway there, her eyes fell upon the stains covering his clothes, and her face went deathly pale.
"Are you hurt?!"
Before Lu Xuan could answer, she was already beside him, grabbing his collar and checking his arms, chest, ribs, and shoulders.
"No, it’s not my blood."
Shen Yuyan barely seemed to hear him.
She turned him around and checked his back, then ran her hands over his arms again, searching for hidden injuries. Her movements grew increasingly frantic, as though she were convinced that if she stopped looking too soon, she would miss some hidden energy.
Only after she had personally confirmed that there wasn’t even a scratch on him did her tense shoulders finally relax.
She let out a trembling breath. The strength seemed to leave her legs all at once, and she pressed her forehead against his chest.
"You scared me to death..."
Her voice was barely audible.
Lu Xuan’s expression softened.
"It’s nothing."
He raised a hand and gently placed it on the back of her head, allowing her to remain there for a moment.
But as he felt her trembling, he began to understand how little the words meant.
He gently stroked her hair.
"I’m sorry I worried you."
Shen Yuyan’s fingers tightened against his clothes, but she didn’t answer.
After a while, Lu Xuan carefully pulled away and took off his bloodstained clothes, dropping them into a basin.
"Wash them."
Shen Yuyan nodded silently.
She carried the basin to the well and began soaking the clothes in water. The moment the dried blood dissolved, the water quickly turned a deep, murky red.
Her hands trembled slightly.
She stared at the blood for a moment, but she didn’t ask where it had come from.
She simply lowered her head and continued scrubbing, again and again.
Until the water gradually became clear.
Lu Xuan sat quietly on the doorstep, looking at the old oak tree in the courtyard, moonlight spilled through the leaves, making them glisten softly in the night breeze, he lowered his gaze to his hands.
There were bruises across his knuckles, though they were already fading, they didn’t hurt, Not anymore.
A dozen or so mountain bandits, one punch each.
The power of Tiger Form at Great Perfection had exceeded even his expectations, he had known he was strong.
But until tonight, he hadn’t truly understood just how terrifying that strength could be, a faint smile appeared on his face.
Next time, he wouldn’t even need to use his fists.
If he could learn to properly use a blade...
It would be much more convenient, his thoughts shifted, and he glanced back toward Shen Yuyan.
She was still by the well, quietly scrubbing his bloodstained clothes. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and despite everything she had seen, she hadn’t asked a single question.
She trusted him, for some reason, that simple fact touched Lu Xuan more deeply than he expected.
That alone... was worth more than any martial technique.
At the same time, Ye Qingyi sat alone in her room.
A single candle flickered quietly on the desk beside her.
She was wiping her blade, the long, narrow steel catching the candlelight and reflecting it in cold flashes, almost as cold as the expression on her face.
Her movements were slow, much slower than usual. Her mind kept returning to the events of that day.
Lu Xuan had been the first to notice something was wrong on the mountain road. He had spoken up and warned them, yet everyone had laughed at him. Then she had sensed it too—nearly a hundred paces later.
A hundred paces.
Ye Qingyi’s hand paused for a moment. That small detail kept bothering her.
The mountain bandits had attacked, and Lu Xuan had "run away in fear."
Ten bandits had chased him.
Ten.
All dead.
Killed with a single punch each. Their chests had been pierced clean through.
Ye Qingyi slowly lowered her gaze toward her blade. The condition of the bodies had been too clean, too efficient. It wasn’t the work of a frightened man wildly swinging his fists and desperately trying to survive.
Every strike had been precise. Every blow had landed exactly where it needed to.
Whoever had killed them knew exactly where to strike... and exactly how much force to use.
And then there was Lu Xuan.
Blood on his clothes. Blood on his hands. Not a single wound on his body.
"Ran fast?"
Ye Qingyi’s eyes narrowed. How fast could a wooden cart possibly run? Could it really outrun ten men on horseback?
Ten mounted bandits, unable to catch a single "piece of trash" driving a wooden cart?
The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded.
Ye Qingyi slowly sheathed her blade and rested it across her knees. Then she began calculating.
If Lu Xuan hadn’t driven the cart away at that exact moment, if he hadn’t drawn ten mountain bandits away from the main group, then all twenty-four mountain bandits would have surrounded the six escort warriors at once.
Even with her there, someone would have died. Perhaps more than one.
Could that really have been a coincidence?
A coward running away at exactly the right moment, in exactly the right direction, drawing away exactly the right number of enemies?
Ye Qingyi’s brows slowly furrowed.
She stood and walked toward the window. Outside, the moon hung quietly above the city.
Her thoughts returned to that mountain road. She remembered Lu Xuan sitting there while everyone laughed at him.
Trash. Coward. Useless.
Yet through it all, his eyes had remained calm.
Not afraid. Not angry. Not humiliated.
Just...
Calm.
Like the surface of a still lake.
Ye Qingyi stared at the moonlight for a long time. She had lived long enough to understand one thing: the calmest water often hid the deepest currents.
Her gaze became complicated.
"That man..."
She murmured softly, "What exactly are you hiding?"
No answer came, only the quiet night wind brushing past the window.
After a moment, Ye Qingyi turned away from the moon and returned to her desk. She picked up the candle, then, after one final glance toward the dark window, blew it out.
The room fell completely silent.
Perhaps she was overthinking this. Perhaps Lu Xuan really was just lucky. Perhaps everything was simply a coincidence.
She closed her eyes.
"...Perhaps."
But even after the room had gone dark, that doubt remained.