Inside, Xiang Wan lay face-up on the bed.
Completely unclothed, her eyes vacant and lifeless as she stared blankly at the ceiling.
She looked like a broken rag doll, devoid of vitality, her soul drained away.
That pitiful, fragile sense of brokenness made Nie Zhenzhen’s heart feel as though it were being scraped back and forth by a dull blade—a raw, searing pain.
She didn’t know how she had managed to walk step by step to Xiang Wan’s bedside; her legs were still trembling uncontrollably.
She reached out and gently touched Xiang Wan on the bed.
Struggling to suppress the grief in her heart, tears welled up in her eyes, but she forced them back.
She knew this was not the time for sorrow. Time was of the essence—the first priority was to successfully get Xiang Wan out of here.
“Xiang Wan, come with me quickly. I found an escape route.”
Nie Zhenzhen didn’t pry into what had happened. She knew that Xiang Wan, in her current state, wouldn’t want to talk about it anyway.
As she spoke, she took off her own jacket and gently draped it over Xiang Wan, as if tenderly handling a fragile, priceless treasure.
The Xiang Wan before her had not a trace of will to live in her eyes—only deep sorrow and despair.
After a long moment, she spoke coldly,
“Zhenzhen, I truly don’t have an ounce of strength left in my entire body…”
“Just go. Don’t worry about me. Soon… soon the next one will come…”
With that, Xiang Wan turned her head away, her back to Nie Zhenzhen, eyes tightly shut. A single tear traced down the corner of her eye.
The next one?
Before Nie Zhenzhen could even process Xiang Wan’s words,
the sound of military boots tapping against the ground echoed from outside the door.
She peered through the crack in the door and saw a burly middle-aged man walking toward this room.
She was so nervous and terrified that she could clearly hear her own heartbeat—thump, thump, thump—almost leaping out of her throat.
“Go now… or it really will be too late…”
Xiang Wan urged again, her tone carrying a hint of firmness.
Nie Zhenzhen knew the situation was urgent; there was no time left for hesitation or indecision.
Just as she made up her mind and prepared to leave, Xiang Wan’s voice came from behind her again—exhausted yet filled with deep emotion,
“Zhenzhen, live well…”
Nie Zhenzhen could no longer hold back. Tears instantly flowed down her cheeks like two little streams, streaming endlessly.
As she neared the door, she didn’t turn around, but her tone carried a resolute finality: “Wait for me!”
With that, Nie Zhenzhen left the room without looking back, quickly disappearing into the darkness.
She made her way back to that hidden opening.
Following the markers she had left earlier, she pushed aside the rubble and wild grass.
Pressing her entire body flat against the cold, rough ground, she crawled on all fours.
Her petite frame inched forward with extreme difficulty, moving bit by bit toward the opening.
The narrow passage scraped her clothes into disarray, and tiny sharp gravel embedded in the dirt dug painfully into her palms, knees, and stomach.
With every inch she advanced, a piercing, bone-deep pain shot through her, causing the girl’s brows to knit tightly together.
She bit her lower lip, afraid to make a sound, terrified of alerting the nearby guards.
Her back was stiff and rigid as she squeezed her body through, using the faint light of the moon to slowly crawl out of the low dog hole.
After what felt like an eternity—until her whole body ached and she was on the verge of losing strength and consciousness—the space before her suddenly opened up.
She, Nie Zhenzhen, had finally escaped successfully!
She felt a surge of strength flood through her, and a deep, thick hope colored her eyes.
She quickly scrambled to her feet, but the sudden standing made her unsteady, and she nearly tumbled back down.
Fortunately, her reflexes were quick—she grabbed hold of a large tree beside her and barely managed to steady herself.
Using the scattered moonlight, she tried to survey her surroundings.
She realized she was in the middle of a dense jungle.
The branches and leaves of towering ancient trees interlaced layer upon layer, completely blocking out the night sky above, leaving only dim, oppressive shade among the trees.
Everywhere she looked were identical trees and weeds, making it hard for the girl to tell north from south, east from west.
She stood frozen in the woods, her expression flustered and anxious.
She tried to calm her restless emotions, telling herself she had to stay composed.
After a moment, she raised her hand to push aside the branches blocking her path, walking while glancing around, taking in her surroundings.
The forest was so quiet that only the rustling of wind through leaves and her own slightly hurried breathing could be heard.
Fear slowly spread through the girl’s heart.
But she held herself together, refusing to give up, stubbornly searching for a way out in the vast, dense forest.
She didn’t know how far she had walked when, just as Nie Zhenzhen was looking around in confusion, trying to find her bearings,
a low engine rumble suddenly came from ahead, accompanied by the rumbling sound of wheels rolling over the road—the noise of a convoy approaching.
She froze for a moment, then light suddenly flashed in her eyes, and joy surged in her heart.
She unconsciously quickened her pace and continued forward.
The sound of the convoy grew clearer and clearer.
She was certain the main road was right nearby.
The fear that had been suppressed for so long was swept away in an instant.
She no longer cared about the tangled weeds and stumbling dead branches in the forest. Lifting her skirt, she quickly pushed aside the vines and branches blocking her path.
Her steps were urgent and flustered, her heart full of joy as she hurried toward the direction of the sound.
The timing was just right—she hadn’t missed the convoy.
Not far ahead, dust rose into the air. The roar of the convoy grew closer, and headlights cut through the twilight of the forest, driving straight toward the girl.
Her heart tightened. She quickly stepped into the middle of the road, raised both hands high, leaned slightly forward, and waved desperately at the approaching convoy.
Her eyes were filled with urgency and hope as she tried with all her might to stop this one and only chance.
The lead driver’s gaze sharpened as he suddenly spotted the girl standing alone in the middle of the road. His heart jolted, and he instinctively slammed on the brakes.
The screech of brakes instantly tore through the silence of the night. Tires ground harshly against the road, letting out a sharp, piercing shriek.
The vehicle lurched violently and came to a heavy halt.
The vehicles behind couldn’t react in time, one after another braking urgently in succession.
Braking sounds exploded one after another, dust billowing from the rear of each vehicle. The entire convoy came to an abrupt stop on the road, the atmosphere instantly tense and heavy.
“What the hell are you doing?! You trying to get yourself killed?!”
The lead driver stuck his head out of the window and shouted loudly at the girl.
“I’m sorry, I got lost. I saw the headlights from here and came over.”
Nie Zhenzhen, startled by the driver’s gruff shout, spoke cautiously.
“A-Yan, what’s happening up ahead?”
The distinguished man seated in the back of the Knight XV off-road vehicle in the middle of the convoy spoke slowly, his voice low yet carrying an oppressive authority.
Assistant A-Yan was tall and imposing, clad in a sleek black tactical suit that outlined his taut, muscular frame. His shoulders were broad, his build sturdy and powerful.
His face was cold and composed, his brows and eyes concealing a sharp edge. His expression remained unruffled, radiating a cool, capable aura of immense presence.
He bowed slightly toward the man in the back and replied respectfully,
“Yes, Mr. Li. I’ll go check.”