🥀

Xu Feng stumbled backward, his face contorted in agony as the arrow lodged in his shoulder. Fortunately, the wound was superficial. Gui Li pivoted, her slender fingers deftly flipping a series of needles with deadly precision, leaping down beside him. The guards crumpled unconscious, their limbs flailing limply like marionettes severed from their strings.

More guards rushed forth, their eyes glassy and unfocused, their movements mechanical. One flailing guard released a flare, its fiery trajectory arcing across the sky before he collapsed. Xu Feng clenched his teeth, his gaze fixed on Gui Li as he clutched his wounded shoulder.

"Let's go," Gui Li urged, her voice low and urgent, though her hand hesitated, reluctant to touch him.

As guards converged from all directions, Xu Feng grasped Gui Li's hand, pulling her into a frantic sprint. The encircling guards, their faces vacant and soulless, formed a tightening noose.

"Stay back," Xu Feng warned, his sword at the ready.

Gui Li's gaze locked onto his, confusion and resentment simmering in her eyes. The man responsible for her family's slaughter and her people's subjugation now stood before her, offering protection.

The guards, their movements jerky and unnatural, closed in. Their eyes, once bright with purpose, now dull and lifeless, seemed to hold a haunting emptiness – the hallmark of Wei's sinister poison control.

Xu Feng steeled himself for battle, his resolve hardened. He must stop Xu Jing at all costs; failure would mean innocent lives lost and his identity exposed.

Xu Feng grasped the sword hilt tightly, his eyes darting nervously around the surroundings, poised for battle. Suddenly, a hooded figure descended from the rooftop with extraordinary agility, propelled by his mastery of qinggong. The guards closed in, encircling them from the front, but before they could strike, the hooded figure landed effortlessly, his sword slicing through the air with precision.

Gui Li gasped, her hand instinctively covering her face. Xu Feng retreated slowly, pulling Gui Li alongside him into the shadows of the adjacent building. The hooded figure stood vigilant, monitoring the guards' hesitant movements.

As the guards exchanged uneasy glances, the hooded man sprang into action before the incense stick had burned out. With swift, calculated strikes, he incapacitated the guards without inflicting fatal wounds. Rising to his knees, he turned to Xu Feng and Gui Li, who continued to retreat cautiously.

"Mr. Xu," the hooded man said, his voice low and gravelly.

Xu Feng's eyebrows arched in surprise at the stranger's familiarity. The hooded man swiftly turned toward the approaching footsteps, his tension palpable.

As time ticked by, the atmosphere grew increasingly strained. With incredible agility, the hooded man leapt onto the rooftop, releasing a cloud of sleeping powder that drifted through the air, rendering the approaching guards unconscious one by one. He then jumped down, his movements fluid and deliberate.

“We have to move out now,” the hooded figure urged, his eyes directing Xu Feng and Gui Li toward the palace exit.

Gui Li remained unconvinced, her feet rooted to the spot. “Who are you?” she demanded.

The hooded figure sighed, revealing his identity with a subtle hand gesture. His fingers crossed into a star, symbolizing the ancient tradition of the Western States, Wei and Liang. Liang? Xu Feng's mind racing, he wondered if this could mean Su Yu Chen was still alive.

How did he know Xu Feng was here, and that he needed help? The assassins with the dragon tattoo, from Zhao Yun – it all made sense now. Zhao Yun was Su Yu Chen. No wonder he seemed familiar, full of tactics.

“Hurry,” the hooded figure pressed, his urgency evident.

Xu Feng nodded resolutely and turned to Gui Li, his eyes persuasive. She relented, following them from behind as they sprinted toward the gate.

Meanwhile, at the palace entrance, a phalanx of guards stormed into the throne room, their armor glinting in the flickering torchlight. The heavy doors swung open with a resounding crash, causing the assembled ministers to flinch.

Feng Liu, composed and dignified in his silk robes, stepped forward, his hands clasped together in respect. “Royal Father,” he greeted.

The Emperor's face darkened, his sleeves fluttering angrily as he swept aside the tea cup that had been served mere moments before. The delicate porcelain shattered on the marble floor, shards scattering in all directions.

The ministers, attired in their finest formal wear – embroidered silks and intricately patterned robes – lowered their heads, their faces pale. “Calm down, Your Majesty,” they implored in unison.

Feng Liu sank to his knees, his hands trembling visibly. “Suzhou has fallen. How long will the capital remain secure?”

Just then, another guard burst into the hall, panting heavily. The ministers' anxious gazes swiveled toward the newcomer.

“Report!” one of them urged.

The guard's voice trembled. “Zizhou has been captured by Xu Jing.”

The ministers' faces fell, their elegant postures sagging in despair. Their usually immaculate attire now seemed rumpled and disheveled, reflecting their growing unease.

The throne room doors burst open, and a guard stumbled in, his footsteps frantic. "Report!" he gasped, bowing deeply.

Feng Liu spun around, surprise etched on his face. "What is it?"

The guard trembled, his voice barely audible. "Two guards are missing... and two assassins have breached the palace gate."

The ministers exchanged anxious glances, their murmurs swelling into a nervous hum. "How could this happen?" "What about the Crown Prince's involvement?" "Are we compromised?" Their elegant robes seemed rumpled, their usually composed faces now pale.

The Emperor's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Guards?" he growled.

The informant cowered, his head bowed. "They... they were brought in by Crown Prince Feng Yang, Your Majesty. Mo Yu and Mo Lin."

Feng Liu's face contorted in rage. His fists clenched, knuckles white, as he struggled to contain his fury. "How dare he!" he muttered under his breath, his eyes blazing.

The Emperor slammed his fist on the armrest. "Find those assassins! Seal the palace!"

Feng Liu's voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "Zhao Yun... you're behind this, aren't you?" His gaze fell, his jaw clenched.

The ministers' whispers grew louder, their concern palpable. "What's happening?" "Is the Crown Prince involved?" "Will the wedding proceed?"

Amidst the chaos, the Emperor's voice rose above the din. "Where's the princess? We must expedite the marriage!" His words dripped with urgency.

Feng Liu's eyes flashed with determination. "I'll ensure the princess's safety, Father." His face twisted, fury simmering beneath the surface.

---

Rushing out, Xiao Zhan dragged Su Ruo along, her reluctant gaze fixed on the cave they were fleeing. Su Ruo's eyes pleaded to return, to rescue the one left behind. They stumbled through the darkness, half-conscious Xiao Fan clinging to Xiao Zhan, hindering their escape.

Finally, they reached the cave's exit. Su Ruo jerked her hand free, spinning back toward the cave's depths. Xiao Zhan's eyes widened in horror as puppets poured out of the secondary exit, their twisted forms silhouetted against the flickering torches.

Their grotesque faces contorted, mouths agape, revealing jagged teeth. Eyes glowing with an unnatural hunger, they pushed and clawed at each other, their frenzy to attack intensifying. Fingernails scraped and screeched against stone, leaving gashes in the walls as they surged forward.

Xiao Zhan's grip on Su Ruo's hand tightened. "We can't stay." His voice barely rose above the puppets' cacophony.

Su Ruo's protest was lost amidst the chaos. "Mr. Ruyu is still in there! We have to turn back!"

Xiao Zhan steeled himself, guilt and resolve hardening his jaw. He couldn't let Ruyu's sacrifice be in vain. Clutching the heirloom meant for his child, he faced the oncoming horde.

Puppets burst through the cave entrance, splintering wooden beams and shredding stone. Their immense strength sent boulders crashing down, blocking their pursuit – for the moment.

As the puppets closed in, Xiao Zhan readied himself. Frantic, crazed, and unrelenting, they would stop at nothing. He would fight to the death, protecting Su Ruo and avenging Ruyu.

Xiao Fan, still reeling from the bug's toxic effects, lifted his gaze slowly. His eyes, clouded by dizziness, locked onto Su Ruo's retreating figure. "S-Su Ruo," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Su Ruo ignored his plea, taking another step toward the cave's depths. Xiao Zhan grasped her hand firmly, halting her progress. "We have to go now!" He poured a white powder into the air, creating a temporary barrier.

Xiao Fan's hand fell limp beside him, his body weakened by the bugs' draining effects. His eyes, filled with desperation, pleaded with Su Ruo. "Don't go... Leave with me," he begged, his voice cracking.

Su Ruo's concerned gaze flicked toward Xiao Fan, her eyes scanning his frail state. His face, pale and clammy, seemed sunken, his eyes sunken. Yet, despite his deplorable condition, his love for her shone through.

Xiao Zhan shook his head resolutely, holding firm to Xiao Fan. "We can't let you go back in there." His grip tightened as Su Ruo tried to break free.

Su Ruo's jaw clenched, determination etched on her face. "Pass the powder to me," she demanded, her eyes flashing with resolve.

Xiao Zhan hesitated, unsure of her intentions. "What are you planning? With their energy, they'll revive soon. Going back is suicidal!"

Su Ruo's lips pursed, her gaze unwavering. She grasped the powder from Xiao Zhan's hand, turning toward the exit.

Xiao Fan struggled to stand, his eyes welling up with tears. He clung to Su Ruo's arm, his head shaking in a pleading manner. "Don't... don't leave me," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Su Ruo's expression softened, her eyes betraying a glimmer of emotion. Yet, she gently pried Xiao Fan's fingers loose. "I'll be back," she promised, her voice barely above a whisper.

Xiao Fan's face contorted in anguish as Su Ruo turned away. His body swayed, on the verge of collapse. Xiao Zhan caught him, holding him upright.

Su Ruo's resolve hardened, her mind racing with strategy. Continuous flight wouldn't work, not with the puppets in relentless pursuit and Xiao Fan injured. Someone had to create a diversion, draw the enemy's attention away from their vulnerable companions – and it would be her.

She took a deep breath, jerking her hand free from Xiao Zhan's grasp. "Xiao Zhan, take him away," she urged, her voice firm.

Xiao Zhan's eyes narrowed, concern etched on his face. "What are you planning to do, Su Ruo?"

Su Ruo's grip on her sword tightened, her gaze fixed on the approaching puppets. "I'll distract them, give you time to escape. Meet you downstream. If I don't arrive within an incense stick's burn, leave without me and return to Rouran."

Before Xiao Zhan could protest, Su Ruo charged back into the fray, her sword slicing through the puppets with deadly precision. Each strike was swift and calculated, her movements fluid.

The puppets' ferocious assaults earned her slashes on her hanfu, the silk torn and fluttering. Fortunately, none struck true, sparing her from fatal wounds.

As she fought, Su Ruo planted powder by the candlesticks, the explosive mixture waiting to be ignited. The puppets, oblivious to the danger, pressed forward.

Xiao Zhan lifted Xiao Fan from the floor, his eyes locked on Su Ruo's valiant fight. His face twisted in anguish, torn between loyalty to his friend and the need to protect Xiao Fan.

"Go!" she urged, voice low and urgent, as he turned to flee with Xiao Fan.

Su Ruo's battle cry echoed through the cave, her sword flashing in the flickering torchlight. The puppets closed in, their grunts and snarls filling the air.

Xiao Fan struggled, trying to break free from Xiao Zhan's grasp, but his weakened state betrayed him. He clung to Xiao Zhan's support, unable to stand alone.

Su Ruo fought valiantly, her sword slicing through puppets with ease. However, they revived minutes later, as healthy as before. Her knees buckled, her ragged breaths a testament to her exhaustion.

As she gazed up, watching Xiao Zhan carry Xiao Fan away, a faint smile crossed her lips. For five years, she had fought alone, isolated from the world. Yet, she now risked everything to protect him – despite their differences, her sect's ban on love, and his role in her brother's demise.

With newfound determination, Su Ruo grasped her sword, standing slowly. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she unleashed her sect's renowned sword technique, slaughtering the puppets. The powder's effects spread, rendering the puppets unconscious.

Seizing the opportunity, Su Ruo covered her nose and mouth, sprinting outside. Her wobbly legs faltered, her vision blurring.

As she ran, a familiar vision appeared: a little girl by the exit, smiling. The girl extended her hand to a little boy, gesturing toward the distance. Su Ruo's breaths grew ragged as she summoned her last strength.

Slamming the exit gate shut, Su Ruo collapsed, gasping for air. A question haunted her: If the boy was her brother, who was this mysterious girl from her dreams? The familiar face lingered, but its owner's identity eluded her.

The puppets' muffled groans jarred her back to reality. Su Ruo struggled to her feet, resolve burning within.

Su Ruo regained her footing and sprinted down the road, as if liberated from a long confinement. Questions swirled in her mind: How long had they been trapped? Had they escaped successfully? Were the other sect members safe?

Reaching the downstream, she paused to catch her breath. Snowflakes danced around her, casting a serene veil over the desolate city. The streets, once bustling, now lay empty and silent.

Curiosity drove her to explore. She wandered through the snow-shrouded streets, discovering the town's nameboard hidden beneath the drifts. Wiping away the snow, she read the inscription: "Qing State, Yangzhou City." Her eyes widened in surprise.

The cave's proximity to Qing State sparked questions. What connection did Qing have to the cave's master?

As she navigated the streets, guards patrolling in Liang soldier badges caught her attention. Qing had fallen to Yihua Palace disciples; why were Liang guards secretly patrolling here?

The guards settled down, sharing wine and complaints. "How long must we patrol these empty streets?" their leader sighed.

"Rouran and Wei will fall soon," another guard replied. "Master promised us good positions if we complete this quest."

Su Ruo's mind racing, she pieced together the clues. Rouran and Wei were next on the target list, just as Zhao Yun warned. Who in Liang orchestrated this?

One of the guards asked, "How's production in the cave?"

The guard sighed, discarding the empty gourd. "They'll go berserk soon, like Yihua Palace's. Why bother checking? Let's focus on intruders." Su Ruo's jaw dropped, shock coursing through her veins. Their master orchestrated the Yihua Palace massacre?!

As she clenched her fists, ready to confront the guards, a gentle hand pulled her back. Expecting Xiao Zhan, she turned to find a young woman in a traditional Qing-style ao (jacket) with intricate embroidery, paired with a flowing chang (skirt) in muted hues. The woman's hair was styled in a neat bun, secured with ornate pins.

Su Ruo yanked her hand free, eyebrows raised. "Why did you stop me? Who are you?"

The woman gestured toward a group emerging from the North Wing: three children, an elderly man, and a woman. The elderly man wore a long, dark-blue changshan (robe) with five golden buttons, adorned with symbolic motifs, over matching loose-fitting pants.

The woman wore a elegant, high-collared qipao (dress) in silk, its crimson hue subtlely embroidered with golden phoenixes, paired with traditional lotus shoes. The children wore miniature versions of traditional simple, long-sleeved jackets and pants, with vibrant colors indicating their youth.

As they approached, Su Ruo noticed their worn, weary expressions. The group bowed, hands folded in supplication.

"What happened to you?" Su Ruo asked, concern etched on her face.

The group stared silently, their eyes haunted. One child attempted to speak, but his voice was barely audible, hoarse from disuse. The harsh environment – dry, desert-like conditions and biting winds – seemed to have taken its toll on their voices.

"Can't you speak?" Su Ruo asked gently.

The children sobbed, kneeling with folded arms, joined by the elderly man. Their despairing eyes locked onto Su Ruo, pleading for help.

     Comment 🌸 Vote 🌸 Share