The carriage rolled forward at an unhurried pace and came to a stop beside the city gate. When the curtain was lifted, Miss Player, seated within, was like a ray of sunlight breaking through heavy clouds, spilling across this gloomy stretch of earth and, by sheer force, lighting the road before the travelers.
Wen Yan carried her down from the carriage. Taozi followed close behind.
At this hour, many people were passing through the city gate. Previously, passersby had avoided this corner as if it were plague-stricken—whether prisoners or officers, both were dangerous in the eyes of ordinary folk. Yet now, without any need for agreement, the crowd behaved in the same way. One by one, they slowed their steps in silent understanding.
And even after passing Miss Player, they kept turning back to look.
Those with little resistance to beauty even found themselves drifting toward her, nearly colliding with the Yamen Runner escorting the prisoners.
Fortunately, the officers were too busy staring at Miss Player to come to their senses in time. No one grew agitated enough to draw a blade and cause real trouble.
The constable, regaining his clarity, ordered the crowd to disperse. Faced with the fierce-looking Yamen Runners, the people dared not push forward any further. The timid left reluctantly, while the bolder ones retreated a little, craning their necks to keep watching from afar.
Miss Player was so small that she was completely hidden behind the ring of Yamen Runners. Not even a corner of her clothing was visible. No one could actually see her face, yet many still refused to leave.
The Yamen Runners had no real solution for this situation.
In truth, it was already time to depart.
But the constable was willing to take on the trouble and allow Miss Player a moment to say her farewells.
"Uncle Zou," Miss Player had dealt with this constable in her previous run. In rank, all the Yamen Runners were subordinates of the Registrar, but those who spent their lives traveling on difficult assignments were never particularly favored by their superiors.
There was no personal debt between them. Constable Zou had no reason to show preferential treatment to the Zhang family, nor to any other household.
Yet he had not expected Miss Player to recognize him. Surprised and pleased, he responded at once, crouching down. "Miss, please give your instructions."
Miss Player turned and pointed at the dust-covered boys one by one, calling out their names.
"Zhang Kang, Wan Yongye, Jiang Litu..."
Wan Yongye—the boy who had once brought flowers and gotten everyone stung by bees—had been holding back his tears. The moment she called his name, they spilled out uncontrollably.
After naming them, Miss Player turned back to Constable Zou and said, "They all watched me grow up. They are the elder brothers who accompanied me. Uncle Zou, please see them delivered alive to Yongzhou."
Constable Zou smiled with gentle warmth and agreed.
Miss Player then walked toward the boys.
Zhang Kang’s eyes were also brimming with tears, though he forced himself not to cry. He kicked Wan Yongye’s chained leg and scolded, "What are you crying for? You look awful! Do you want Youyou to remember you in the future as a blubbering mess?"
Wan Yongye hurriedly wiped his face with his filthy sleeve. His face had already been dirty; now, with snot, tears, and dust smeared together, he looked even more miserable.
At this moment, Miss Player could have followed the expected script:
"I will wait for you to earn merit at the border, to clear your names, and return to see me. When we meet again after a long separation, it will be a joy of this world."
The emotional effect would have been perfect—but it would not help complete the task.
From the failure of her previous run, Miss Player already understood that goals set too far in the future were nothing but empty fantasies. It was like every time before exercising—shouting, "I will train for an hour! High intensity, high standards! Both cardio and strength!"
In reality, five minutes later, one was already back in the embrace of the sofa.
It was better to start with a ten-minute goal and not push too hard. That way, after passing five minutes, every additional minute would feel closer and closer to the goal.
Miss Player stopped in front of Zhang Kang. Even among the exiled boys, he was still the "leader." They followed him willingly and listened to his words.
Zhang Kang had tears in his eyes, yet he smiled.
"Our Youyou is already so dazzling at such a young age… what will become of you when you grow up…"
When she grew up, she would naturally be even more beautiful. Miss Player knew that from birth to death, without additional point allocation, the Appearance stat would not change. But beauty had its peaks and valleys. Today, her clothes were newly made, bright in color and novel in style, adding to her natural features. Still, limited by age, her beauty was one of sweetness and charm.
As the saying went, charm was nothing before allure.
At fifteen, she would reach her peak. After that, her beauty would decline.
This ancient world had no cultivation or supernatural elements. Naturally, no one could escape the laws of nature.
Zhang Kang knew this as well. When Youyou grew up, she would only become more beautiful—and beauty always came with troubles.
His voice trembled as he forced back his tears. "Big Brother only wants to train well… so I can protect Youyou in the future. No matter how many scoundrels come, they’ll have to pass me first. One comes, I’ll beat one. Two come, I’ll beat a pair…"
Miss Player did not comfort him. Instead, she turned and extended her hand to Taozi. "The money pouch."
She carried no money on herself; Taozi kept it for her. Since they had gone out, they had brought copper coins and bits of silver in case of need. After their visit to the Qian household, the pouch was nearly full.
The small embroidered pouch, decorated with two plump yellow orioles, was handed to her. Without even opening it, Miss Player placed it directly into Zhang Kang’s arms.
"I don’t need Brother Zhang to beat scoundrels for me. I heard that where you’re going, there’s a kind of lychee called White Sugar Ying that’s very sweet. When you arrive, buy a basket and have someone bring it back to me."
One of the older boys murmured, "She’s still just a child, thinking only about food."
Wan Yongye, seeing that their leader could no longer speak, stepped forward, choking with emotion. "Youyou, don’t worry. We’ll make it there alive—"
The boys all made their promises.
Only then did the older one realize that Miss Player’s request was not childish greed—it was a spark of resolve.
Even the adults, whose thoughts were no longer pure, felt their hearts stir. Quietly, they wiped away their tears.
As they were about to leave, Zhang Kang turned—
"Brother Zhang," Miss Player called, pulling him aside.
"You made a promise to me. You must not break it."
Zhang Kang lowered his head. "Don’t worry. I’ll remind the others. I’ll make sure none of them forget their promise to you."
"And you?"
Zhang Kang fell silent.
"If you die," Miss Player said, staring at him, "how will you know the others will keep their promise?"
He raised his head. Under her gaze that seemed to see through everything, the self-destructive impulse buried deep within him could no longer be hidden. Covering his face, he began to sob.
"My father committed crimes. I don’t deserve to live."
If you don’t live, how am I supposed to complete my task?
The one most likely to help Miss Player complete her task was naturally Zhang Kang. Among all the exiled NPCs, he was the only R-tier character. The rest were only N-tier.
Miss Player quickly poured him a bowl of spiritual encouragement.
"Only by living can you atone. If you die, there will be nothing left. I’ve heard the underworld has eighteen levels of hell. The Registrar may be suffering in one of them right now. If you keep doing good deeds, perhaps your whole family can offset your sins and have a chance to go to the Pure Land together."
That single bowl of words washed away all of Zhang Kang’s desire for death.
"I’ll pick the best White Sugar Ying lychees and send them to you," he promised.
After returning to the group, the first thing Zhang Kang did was snatch back the oriole pouch and tuck it away carefully.
…
Watching the group depart, Jiang Jingxing followed closely behind Miss Player, clearly intending to hitch a ride.
Miss Player shot him a cold glance. "If you dare get on, I’ll kick you off."
Jiang Jingxing: "…"
Dryly, he said, "Why don’t you ask where my carriage is?"
Miss Player ignored him.
"I snuck out," he admitted. "My family doesn’t know."
Miss Player lowered the curtain. "Then sneak back."
Jiang Jingxing stomped his foot behind the carriage and shouted, "You treat outsiders more like brothers than you treat me!"
Miss Player thought to herself: That’s not wrong. Every one of your classmates is more like a proper brother than you are.
Youxi lifted Jiang Jingxing up after he slipped from jumping too high and asked with a simple grin, "Young Master, are we heading back?"
Ever since Youxi had been stabbed, Jiang Jingxing had never again called him stupid or foolish, nor complained about how much he ate. When in a bad mood, he no longer took it out on him.
"Of course we’re going back."
Shaking his weak legs, Jiang Jingxing glanced at the sky. "Let’s hurry. If we don’t move faster, we won’t make it home before dark."
Youxi said, "Young Master, I can carry you. I walk fast."
Jiang Jingxing: "…No. People will think my legs are broken."
Youxi stretched out his hands. "Then I can carry you on my back."
Jiang Jingxing darted into the city gate. "I’ll walk myself."
He didn’t want people thinking he was already half-dead.
Master and servant continued forward. From the corner of his eye, Jiang Jingxing noticed the carriage ahead turn left.
"Where’s Youyou going? That’s not the way home."
Youxi, staring at a straw rack filled with candied hawthorn skewers, said, "Young Master, I’m hungry."
Jiang Jingxing immediately forgot about the carriage. He took out the few remaining copper coins he had.
"We can’t afford candied hawthorn. Want some steamed buns?"
Youxi nodded vigorously. "Yes."
They went to a stall selling coarse-grain buns—one coin each.
Jiang Jingxing took the buns, split one in half, and handed the rest to Youxi.
Neither of them had eaten lunch. Youxi devoured them hungrily.
Jiang Jingxing was still hungry after finishing his portion. Watching Youxi eat so enthusiastically only made it worse.
Still, he didn’t ask for the last untouched bun. Instead, he opened his water flask and gulped down several mouthfuls, then twisted his waist and shook his stomach.
He had observed that buns expanded when they met water.
Soon, Youxi finished everything. Still not full, he asked, "Young Master, are you still hungry?"
Jiang Jingxing lied, "No."
He was afraid that if he admitted it, Youxi would suggest begging for food all the way home.