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As their lips intertwined, Su Ruo's hand languidly retreated, her mouth instinctively reciprocating the tender gesture. Xiao Fan's gentle approach belied the fervent passion that simmered beneath, his lips moving in tandem with hers.

But Su Ruo's sudden withdrawal was abrupt, her countenance a maelstrom of perplexity and ire. She struck him with a resounding slap, her visage aflame with conflicting emotions. Why had she succumbed to the kiss? The very thought was anathema to her!

"Su Ruo—" Xiao Fan attempted to articulate, but she sprang to her feet with alacrity, her lips still smoldering from the encounter. She frantically wiped away the vestiges of their kiss, her fists clenched in a futile attempt to quell the turmoil within. "I initially sought to atone for my precipitous assault on the Bloom Sessions," she confessed, her voice trembling. "However, as time elapsed, I came to realize that my motivations were far more complex."

Su Ruo's teeth were clenched, her hands quivering with restrained emotion. There existed only one plausible explanation for her involuntary response to his kiss – she had unwittingly succumbed to her feelings for him, defying the stringent tenets of her sect and the dictates of her conscience. "Silence!" she implored, her eyes closed in anguish.

Xiao Fan's lids fluttered shut, his hands still reeling from the residual energy of their clashing qi. "I...I have developed feelings for you," he stammered, his voice barely audible.

Su Ruo's eyes remained closed, tears streaming down her face like rivulets of sorrow. She knew that if she lingered, she risked surrendering to his charms. He was, after all, the accused murderer of her brother – a fact that she couldn't ignore until his name was cleared. His existence was predicated solely on her need for vengeance; there could be no other justification for his continued survival.

Su Ruo turned her back on Xiao Fan, her fists clenched and eyes opening slowly, as if steeling herself for the challenges ahead. "The plan remains in effect for tonight. Regardless of the outcome, we will all escape together. No one will be left behind."

Xiao Fan struggled to rise, but his body betrayed him, refusing to obey his desire to stand. He slumped against the wall, his weakness evident.

"Su Ruo?" he called out, his voice laced with a mixture of desperation and vulnerability.

She turned around slowly, her gaze lowering to meet his. "I think it's related to the martial artist my father introduced me to fifteen years ago," he explained, his words measured. "He transferred some energy to me to enhance my sword techniques. Ever since, I've experienced recurring relapses and relied on those pills every month."

Su Ruo's breath caught in her throat as she processed his revelation. "Why are you sharing this with me?" she asked, her tone guarded.

Xiao Fan's finger instinctively rose to wipe away the blood on his chin. "Escaping to Rouran won't resolve anything. I'd only drag you down with me," he admitted, his eyes clouded with self-doubt.

Su Ruo's movements were swift and urgent as she dropped to her knees, grasping his hanfu and pulling him closer. "Are you trying to push me away?" she demanded, her voice tinged with emotion.

Xiao Fan's gaze met hers, and he slowly shook his head. "Xiao Zhan's medical skills are still rudimentary. Only my father's pills can suppress my condition."

Releasing her hold on him, Su Ruo scanned their surroundings for the elusive pills. Her brow furrowed, her resolve beginning to waver. "I've noticed something peculiar. After ceasing intake for months, my relapse only occurred recently. Moreover, my body feels weaker, yet I retain control over my movements."

Her thoughts racing, she took a step back, grasping the implications of Xiao Fan's words. Had his unstable qi been the catalyst for his actions during the Bloom Sessions? Her expression hardened, and she retorted, "That changes nothing."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Xiao Fan's face, but his determination remained unwavering. He clung to her hand, his eyes burning with intensity. "Before we proceed with the plan, I need to know one thing."

Su Ruo's gaze hesitated, then slowly met his, her expression a mask of guarded vulnerability.

Su Ruo's gaze drifted away, her voice barely above a whisper. "Throughout this journey, have you never felt anything for me?" Though she already knew the answer, she sealed her lips, closing her eyes to shield herself from the impending heartache.

Xiao Fan's response was a palpable silence, heavy with unspoken emotions. Su Ruo's eyes fluttered open, and she forced a chuckle, her gaze meeting his soft, hopeful stare. "If that's what it takes to get you to escape with me, I can kiss you again." Her words were laced with a mix of desperation and vulnerability.

She leaned in, her lips inches from his, but Xiao Fan turned away, a solitary tear tracing a path down his cheek. "The answer to your question is no. Never!" His voice cracked, and he slumped against the wall, clutching his chest as if trying to contain the shattering of his heart.

Su Ruo's hands trembled as she yanked his hand off his chest, her eyes flashing with a mix of disappointment and unrequited love. She turned to leave, but the guards' sudden arrival stayed her steps. Xiao Fan's anguished cries echoed through the room, his heart struck by the cruel reality. "Su Ruo! Where are you?!"

She turned towards the screams, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on the pitiful sight before her. Countless slaves, afflicted by the strange disease, crawled on the floor, their eyes pleading for salvation. One struggled to reach her, his hands grasping for her leg. "Save me," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Su Ruo's gaze faltered, her heart heavy with the weight of her impossible task. The guards closed in, their footsteps echoing through the room, a harsh reminder of the danger that lurked around every corner.

Zhao Yun struggled to find his footing, his body weakened by the poison's relentless grip. The snowflakes danced around him, their gentle descent a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within. His tattered blue coat, torn from the recent scuffle, billowed behind him like a specter, caught in the chilly breeze.

Each step felt like an eternity, his face as pale as the snow-covered ground. His black hair was disheveled, and his hanfu was stained with the remnants of his ordeal. The snow crunched beneath his feet, a haunting reminder of the fragile beauty surrounding him.

As he turned a corner, the sound of giggling children pierced his heart, awakening emotions he thought had long been extinguished. He grasped the wall for support, his hands trembling like leaves in an autumn gust. The poison's reaction was intensifying, its venom coursing through his veins like liquid fire.

Could it be that the newfound emotions stirring within him were connected to the poison's temporary dormancy? He wondered, his mind clouded by the toxic haze.

Zhao Yun continued down the deserted streets, the lanterns above casting an ethereal glow. Snowflakes fell ceaselessly, their gentle rhythm a poignant counterpoint to his labored breathing. He wrapped his arms around himself, his breath escaping in wispy vapors.

The children's laughter lingered in his ears, a bittersweet reminder of happier times. Four young figures played in the snow, their joy infectious as they hurled snowballs at each other. Memories long buried resurfaced, and for an instant, Zhao Yun forgot his anguish.

But the pain soon returned, a crushing weight that threatened to consume him. Two of those children were gone, lost forever. He alone remained, burdened by the memories and the guilt of surviving while they perished.

"Survive well." "Live well." The words echoed in his mind, a cruel mockery.

"Luo Ge! You're back!" a child's voice called out, shattering the fragile tranquility.

Live well? How could he, weighed down by the lives of his loved ones? Why had fate chosen him to bear this crushing burden, to witness their demise one by one? The questions swirled in his mind like a maelstrom, fueling his despair.

Zhao Yun slumped against the wall, his chest heaving with exhaustion. This couldn't be the end. He still had unfinished business to attend to before the poison consumed him. Summoning his remaining strength, he focused on balancing his breath with his qi. After several attempts, he managed to calm his racing heart and stem the bleeding from his lips.

With a newfound determination, he slowly rose to his feet, relying on the walls for support as he made his way back to the palace. He moved stealthily, checking for any signs of movement behind him at each step. Finally, he reached the palace and entered through the back wall, making his way to his chambers.

Inside, he found A'Ying watching me with a hint of irritation in her eyes. "Great! I want to spar with you then. If I win, I can go in to see Shifu!" I exclaimed.

I lowered my head, hoping that Shifu wasn't avoiding me. Did he already know why the elders had arrived earlier than expected? No, I had to see Shifu!

"Shifu!" I called out, rushing towards the door.

The door burst open, and Shifu stood in the entrance, holding the edges of the door with his hands. My eyes lit up with relief, thinking that Shifu didn't want to see me.

Shifu raised his head slowly, turning towards the source of the noise. A'Ying looked surprised, glancing around to see everything back to normal. When did he get back without their notice?

"Shifu!" I rushed towards him, turning to A'Ying one last time.

Shifu walked forward, turning to A'Ying in silence. "I tried to stop her. She's been making a ruckus here," A'Ying explained.

Shifu nodded silently, his hands behind him. "Do you have any questions regarding the Cold Breath technique?" he asked in a cold tone.

My lips sealed shut. Although this was typical of a master asking his disciple, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. I had expected more from Shifu.

It took me a moment to compose myself. "After what happened, I wanted to know how you were–"

"I'm fine," Shifu replied curtly. "If you don't have any questions for me, I'll take my leave. Practice diligently." He began turning away, his back facing us.

But then he paused, his eyes closing as a sharp pain coursed through his chest. I exchanged a worried glance with A'Ying, wondering why he had gone silent.

"Your one-year discipleship in the sect will soon end," Shifu continued, his voice strained. "As per Duke Wei's words, you're supposed to return for..." He trailed off, his eyes still closed.

I felt a surge of concern and took a step forward, A'Ying doing the same. But Shifu raised his hand, opening his eyes slowly.

"The chaos in Liang will only settle after your marriage," he said, his gaze piercing. "And it's set to begin at the end of this fall."

A'Ying lowered her head, seemingly unsurprised by the news. I, on the other hand, felt a wave of panic wash over me. The end of this fall? But that was sooner than expected! Why had Duke Wei postponed the marriage without my knowledge?

"Shifu," I stammered, my eyes welling up with tears. But he didn't seem disturbed by my distress.

I wanted to confess my feelings, to tell him that I didn't want to marry Zhen Lan. But the words caught in my throat. What if he didn't reciprocate? What if he still only had eyes for Jing Yi?

Shifu turned to me, a hint of curiosity in his expression. "Regarding Feng Liu, you don't need to stall him anymore. I'll deal with him from here myself."

I shook my head, feeling a lump form in my throat. That wasn't what I wanted to talk about! But before I could speak, A'Ying intervened.

"What about the plan?" she asked, her eyes locked on Shifu.

His gaze dropped, his hands still behind him, but I noticed a slight tremble. "Forward what we discussed to Xu Feng and Mo Yan. I'll talk to Zhen Lan."

A'Ying rubbed her finger over the bang on her face, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Mo Yan? Right, he just rushed off after asking about Mo Qin from her."

Zhao Yun's eyes widened in surprise, connecting the dots. "What did you tell him?" he asked, his voice stern and unyielding.

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I stammered, my eyes flinching. "Mo Qin's location. He hinted at it in his paintings. Mo Yan's probably looking for him. Wait, you also knew about their relation?"

Zhao Yun took a step back, his eyes pacing back and forth. "Does Duke Wei know about this as well?" he asked, his tone laced with urgency.

I nodded, perplexed by the intensity of his reaction. "But," I murmured. But before I could respond further, a guard rushed forward, panting.

"Xu Jing is attacking Jing'an city. Jing Ke has also committed suicide!"

A'Ying's eyebrows furrowed. Another suicide? Right after Zhao Yun's secret departure? Could there be a connection?

Zhao Yun's eyes locked onto Feng Liu, who was rushing towards us. For a moment, they stood face to face, their gazes intense.

I turned around, A'Ying following close behind. "Looks like he's here because of the news."

Feng Liu's gaze met mine, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I had inadvertently caused Shifu to kill Jing Yi, a secret I dreaded Zhao Yun discovering.

Feng Liu sighed, realizing my gaze was fixed on Zhao Yun. "Running off during the chaos doesn't seem like your style, Mr. Lu."

Zhao Yun's fists clenched, his eyes flashing with anger. Feng Liu took a step back, traumatized by the harsh gaze.

"I have business to attend to. Please excuse me, Your Highness." Zhao Yun brushed past Feng Liu, his eyes flustered.

He dashed out of the palace gate, flinging aside the guards who attempted to stop him. They fell to the ground, giving him a clear path to leave.

Once outside, Zhao Yun searched desperately through the crowd, scouring the area for any signs of Mo Qin from the paintings.

Despite being effervescent and juvenile, my perspicacious deduction from the paintings was a significant setback and surprise to him. Apparently, he didn't truly comprehend me. My proximity to Duke Wei was a noose around his neck.

His gaze paused on a group of people standing in a queue, some approaching a nearby house. His eyes narrowed, his mind racing with possibilities.

He paused, observing several individuals standing in a queue, emitting sighs of exasperation. "He's vacated the premises?" "This is too abrupt! What shall I do now?" "Aish." The lamentations continued as they retreated slowly.

Zhao Yun advanced slowly, opening the door to find his jaw agape. The tables and windows were left in a state of disarray. He was too late.

"Mo Yan!" he exclaimed, rushing out to trace the blood droplets descending from the back window. A chuckle resonated in his mind.

"Forest?" Little Mo Yan had nodded in response to little Yun Luo's inquiry. "It's a vast and peaceful locale, conducive to serenity. Thus, I shall feel closer to my mother. That's where I prefer to be."

He turned around, panting. Forest? His eyes brightened at the recollection of a familiar forest. Sprinting down the streets, he brushed past several individuals until he reached the forest's periphery.

Holding his breath, he rested by a tree. The sudden appearance of a round-shaped paper and the sound of water cascading on the floor caught his attention.

He moved in further, taking slow steps until he stood behind a tall, familiar figure pouring wine. Wine? The scent was unfamiliar.

"You're here," Mo Yan said, holding a bottle of wine and gradually turning to Zhao Yun's gaze, his face drained of desperation.

Zhao Yun turned to a newly dug grave, his left hand trembling. His worst nightmare had materialized.

"Mo Yan–" he began.

Mo Yan forced a smile, gulping the bottle of wine. He flung another bottle at Zhao Yun, climbed up a tree with his qi, and threw his back against the bark, gulping.

Zhao Yun followed, sitting beside him.

"So should I address you as Mr. Lu or Mr. Su? I must commend you on your clandestine nature!"

"Cheers!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with anguish, as he gulped down the wine with reckless abandon, the liquid burning his throat.

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