When Qiu Xinran woke up, her head was still heavy and foggy. A black cloth covered her eyes. She shifted slightly and realized her hands and feet were bound—tightly.
“Don’t move.” A low voice whispered in her ear. It sounded familiar. It took her a moment to recognize the person tied back-to-back with her. Before she could speak, footsteps approached outside, and both of them fell silent.
She felt someone leaning close to inspect them. A rough voice said, “Still not awake after all this time? Did they hit you with something really strong?”
A sharper, impatient voice replied, “Doesn’t matter—they’re going to die eventually. Just keep them breathing for now.”
“That was before. The situation’s changed—we need to bring him back alive.” The rough voice then kicked Qiu Xinran lightly. “And this one… why are we bringing her along?”
“Leaving her body there might alert someone. Bringing her back to kill and dump in the mountains is the same.”
“Tch, you complicate everything,” the rough-voiced man muttered as he walked away. “Just a couple of kids and they’ve wasted so much of my time. Last night we nearly let his personal guard get hurt.”
“What about the guard?”
“Chased halfway, realized the trick, turned back. Ha—too late!”
The sharper voice added, “Move quickly. When the contact arrives at dawn, they’ll come down the mountain. They can’t search properly at night; if we wait until daylight, it’ll be too late.”
“Relax. The message’s already sent. In a few hours, it’ll be done.”
The two walked away, their voices fading. From the echo, Qiu Xinran guessed they were in a cave, likely somewhere in the mountain range behind the Wanhe Palace grounds.
Once the cave was quiet again, the person behind her whispered: “Did you hear what they just said?”
Qiu Xinran froze. “What?”
“They won’t kill me for now. But you… your life could end at any moment.”
Her throat tightened. “Young Master Xia… what do you mean?”
“Only I can save you here,” Xia Xiuyan said firmly, completely forgetting his earlier actions. Qiu Xinran rolled her eyes inwardly, thinking: Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. “How?”
“You must promise me this—whatever I tell you to do, you do it.”
“You mean… even if it’s suicide?”
“If you don’t promise, you die right now,” he said coldly.
Swallowing her fear, Qiu Xinran nodded. “Alright. Tell me.”
He paused, gauging her sincerity. The cave was empty except for them. Time was tight. Finally, he whispered: “There’s a small flexible blade on the right side of my belt. Take it and cut the ropes.”
Qiu Xinran blinked. “You carry a blade with you?”
Palace regulations banned such weapons; discovery could mean a charge of attempted treason. He snorted impatiently. “Do you want to wait until the people outside come in and explain it to them?”
With no choice, she obeyed, reaching for his belt. Back-to-back, their captors had assumed a frail woman and a sickly boy wouldn’t resist—so they hadn’t searched their bodies. Few could have imagined someone like Xia Xiuyan, accustomed to walking before the emperor daily, would dare hide a blade.
Blindfolded, she fumbled for the small blade. Her fingers brushed over his belt for some time without success. Behind her, he tensed, muttering: “Found it yet?”
“Not yet!” she snapped, panic rising, forgetting everything else. He took several deep breaths, trying to control himself as he guided her: “Left… more left… a bit down…”
Finally, she felt a hard object against her palm—just as footsteps echoed from outside. They froze.
“Awake?” The sharper voice outside called. “Don’t play dumb—I heard noise.”
Xia Xiuyan’s tone was ice-cold. “Who are you?”
The man sneered. “Don’t worry about that. We’re just following orders.”
Qiu Xinran hid the blade in her palm and asked weakly: “You… you’re going to kill someone?”
The man glanced at her, smirking: “Scared? Don’t worry—you’ll get a good view when it happens.”
Qiu Xinran shrank back against Xia Xiuyan. Instantly, he understood and shifted to shield her with his body.
The man laughed mockingly: “Still worried about a girl, huh? Don’t worry—neither of you will escape.”
“You dared bind me? If it’s for silver, I’ll pay double,” Xia Xiuyan said calmly.
“You think you’re valuable? Your worth is far more than you realize. We have plans for you yet.”
The man glanced at the cornered pair, scoffed, and returned outside. Another rough-voiced man asked: “Awake inside? Why waste words with those kids?”
The sharper man nudged him: “Stay alert. Go guard over there; see if anyone comes.”
Reluctantly, the rougher man moved.
Taking the chance, Xia Xiuyan and Qiu Xinran cut their bindings and removed the blindfolds. The cave was dark—moonlight provided just enough illumination.
A figure sat near the entrance, holding a knife, wearing the eunuch uniform of the man Xia Xiuyan had knocked unconscious.
Squinting to adjust to the light, Xia Xiuyan recovered his strength and motioned for Qiu Xinran to be silent.
He crept along the cave wall. The muddy floor made no sound under his careful steps. Qiu Xinran’s heart raced—each step felt like miles.
Reaching just outside the cave, the “sleeping” figure suddenly stirred, noticing something: a shadow stretched across the ground.
The man jumped up—but Xia Xiuyan was faster. With precise timing, he looped the rope around the man’s neck and pulled taut. The struggle was instantaneous. The taller man, caught off guard, was dragged back into the cave.
Inside, they twisted together. Xia Xiuyan pinned him beneath, straining every muscle, veins bulging, eyes bloodshot. The man thrashed, hands gripping the rope, feet pushing—but he couldn’t free himself. Like a fish on a chopping board, he flailed helplessly.
Yet in age and size, he had the advantage. Seeing him almost break free, Qiu Xinran leapt onto him, sitting on top, muffling his nose and mouth with all her strength, terrified he’d escape or make too much noise.
His thrashing gradually slowed. His face, once pale, flushed dark purple. Veins bulged, eyes bulged like a demon, until finally, his body went limp.
Xia Xiuyan released the rope, leaning back, panting heavily.
Qiu Xinran felt as if dreaming. When he finally steadied himself and patted her shoulder, she shivered uncontrollably.
“Is… is he dead?” she whispered, pale and wide-eyed—likely her first encounter with death, or perhaps her first time killing.
Xia Xiuyan’s expression was complicated. He gave a quiet, “Yes.”
“Quick—get up. We have to leave!” He helped her up. Stumbling, she followed him out of the cave. The night wind hit her face; she felt her senses return.
They didn’t know which mountain or which path led to the palace. Moonlight illuminated the ground, leaving no shadow to hide.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached. Xia Xiuyan’s pupils contracted. He realized someone else had been alerted. “Run!”
Qiu Xinran reacted instantly. They bolted down the hillside.
A moment later, an arrow whistled through the trees, striking with a sickening thud.
Qiu Xinran stumbled, hearing a muffled grunt beside her. Xia Xiuyan half-kneeling, blood gushing from his left leg, grit his teeth. Behind them, the pursuers’ footsteps drew closer once more.
From a distance, Qiu Xinran saw a broad-shouldered, heavily muscled man with a beard barreling down the slope after them. His physique far surpassed that of the sharp-voiced fake eunuch from earlier; even many ordinary generals were rarely this imposing.
Qiu Xinran had been helping Xia Xiuyan walk despite his injured leg, but as the man drew closer, the boy suddenly shoved her aside in frustration.
“Get out of the way!”
The girl froze. He turned and didn’t glance back, standing his ground as the pursuer closed in. After a brief hesitation, Qiu Xinran gritted her teeth and ran into the forest, following him.
“You’ve got some spirit, kid,” the man growled. He caught up quickly, glancing at the fleeing figure and spitting on the ground in frustration. The girl wasn’t his target tonight, but as long as the boy was in his hands, the mission wouldn’t be a failure.
Still, thinking of the cold corpse left behind in the cave, his fury boiled over. He grabbed the boy by the collar, slamming him into a tree. Xia Xiuyan felt as if every organ had been violently displaced, pain so intense he nearly vomited blood. The tree trembled under the impact, shedding leaves all around.
“You little brat! I told you to run!” the man bellowed, swinging his fist. Xia Xiuyan twisted just enough to avoid the full blow, hearing the tree moan under the force. He grabbed the man’s hand holding his collar, yanking himself free and landing roughly on the ground.
The man, enraged at the boy’s defiance, kicked him down again and leapt forward to strike. Xia Xiuyan knew one punch could have crippled this man, but the attack never came.
The boy lying on the ground squinted, seeing the figure who had fled earlier suddenly return, wielding a thick wooden staff. In the struggle, the newcomer swung the staff straight at the burly man’s head.
The impact cracked the staff with a loud bang. The kneeling man cried out in pain but didn’t lose consciousness immediately. Feeling the blood on his hand in the moonlight, Xia Xiuyan sensed his adversary’s rage rising.
Qiu Xinran froze, seeing his bloodshot eyes. Her half-gripped staff dropped; she scanned frantically but found no suitable weapon for defense, only the silver hairpin in her hair.
It was far too small to matter against a giant like him. The man staggered forward, reaching out and grabbing her by the neck, hurling her against a tree with a heavy thud.
Xia Xiuyan feared her bones had shattered. The man, about to finish him off, suddenly noticed a flash of silver.
The hairpin pierced the burly man’s throat with a muffled sound. Before he could react, air escaped from his lungs, eyes widening in shock—then life left him.
Xia Xiuyan yanked the hairpin free, spraying blood across his face, and pushed the massive body off him. The corpse crashed to the side like a mountain. Outside, cicadas chirped, gradually drowning out his ragged breaths.
Supporting himself on his hands, Xia Xiuyan dragged his injured leg over to the girl lying by the tree. Her long hair spread across the ground, motionless as if lifeless.
He hesitated, unwilling to flip her over too soon. The swing that had thrown her had been violent; her slender arms could have broken with one misstep.
She groaned, clutching his clothing. “If you leave me here, that wouldn’t be humane,” she whispered hoarsely, though still moving slightly.
Xia Xiuyan smirked silently and gently nudged her hand off him. “Get up yourself, or you stay here alone.”
Knowing he could do this, Qiu Xinran cursed under her breath. After a long struggle, she managed to stand, feeling as if her entire body had been dismantled and reassembled.
Xia Xiuyan knelt beside the fallen man, inspecting him silently. This death was even more terrifying than the first. Qiu Xinran stayed put, watching from under a tree.
When he finished, she asked, “What now?”
“Back near the cave.”
“I… what?” she said, unsure she heard correctly.
“Back.” He said no more, retrieving a thick stick as a makeshift cane. “Go grab his bow and arrows.”
Although they had barely left the cave, it was impossible to navigate the mountain alone tonight. The immediate priority was rest, and Xia Xiuyan’s leg needed dressing. Qiu Xinran, eyes wide with concern, picked up the discarded bow and arrows and held them carefully.
Following the sound of running water, they soon found a mountain stream. Xia Xiuyan washed the blood off his face and tore strips from his clothing to bandage the arrow wound. Fortunately, the arrow hadn’t hit bone or tendon; the bleeding stopped quickly. Despite the pain, he made no sound.
“You still look like a general’s son tonight,” Qiu Xinran said, sitting cross-legged across from him, resting her chin on her hand. She paused, then asked, “Why did you tell me to run just now?”
He froze mid-bandage. “Then why did you come back?” he countered casually.
She hesitated. “I’m too young, too soft-hearted. Maybe when I’m older, I wouldn’t come back.”
He chuckled softly and handed her something. She realized it was her silver hairpin, cleaned of blood in the stream, glinting in the moonlight. Memories of it piercing the bandit’s throat made her uneasy.
“Keep it,” she said, “I don’t want it.” She grabbed a nearby branch, used it to tie her hair back, and reverted to her little-daoist-boy disguise, giving him a sly little show. Xia Xiuyan’s heart stirred, thinking: It would have been a shame if she’d died tonight.
Looking at the moon, they had no idea what hour it was or the palace’s situation. Qiu Xinran idly fiddled with a stick, asking, “Should we go back to the cave?”
“No.”
She blinked. “Then why did you—” She had thought he insisted on returning because the cave was safer.
“You wanted to go back?”
She shook her head; with the corpses still in the cave, she didn’t want to. Xia Xiuyan seemed to see through her immediately and smiled faintly. Tonight, he thought, it wasn’t a bad thing that she was still alive—if he were alone, the night would have been unbearably cold.