Chapter 15

Since the day they parted, Yun Miao hadn’t seen Xie Zhiyuan again.

After leaving the front hall of Blackwater Stronghold, she was led by two mute servant women to a room where she changed clothes, then joined the other women in the stronghold to do some chores.

The women here had all been abducted by the bandits of Blackwater Stronghold.

Some of them were women from rival factions who had their tongues cut off and became mute, while others were women from nearby towns and villages who had been kidnapped to perform tasks such as sewing or cleaning.

Of course, many of them would eventually be reduced to mere playthings for the men.

The women in the stronghold were all very quiet, their eyes filled with silent fear. When Yun Miao first arrived, there wasn’t a single person willing to talk to her.

But gradually, she got used to her new life and eventually managed to get permission to see Xie Zhiyuan.

When they heard that Yun Miao was going to visit an injured friend, several women who were familiar with her secretly sewed a small pocket into her sleeve, stuffing it with some sweets and medicine for the wounds, hoping she could bring them to Xie Zhiyuan without the guards noticing.

It was dawn, and the first light of day was starting to appear on the horizon.

Yun Miao, carrying a candle, walked down the dimly lit, deep, and silent prison corridor.

She only found the opportunity to see Xie Zhiyuan at this time.

Occasionally, when the bandits talked, Yun Miao heard that Xie Zhiyuan was taken to the stronghold’s main hall during the day, where he would draw attack plans for the Blackwater bandits against the South Beggars’ faction. Sometimes, he would be taken out of the stronghold to the city. At night, he was locked in the deepest part of the dungeon.

Everyone in Blackwater Stronghold knew that the young man had serious arrow wounds, which hadn’t been properly treated. His condition had become extremely serious, and the doctors in the stronghold said he wouldn’t survive for long.

The leader of the stronghold didn’t intend to let him live either.

Once the Blackwater bandits successfully attacked the South Beggars, the youth would have served his purpose. The leader had ordered that Xie Zhiyuan be locked up in the deepest dungeon, given only a little water and food to keep him alive, but otherwise left to suffer without further care.

Every time Yun Miao heard these rumors, her heart tightened with worry for Xie Zhiyuan’s safety.

Sometimes Yun Miao couldn’t understand. This young man was clearly of noble status, a prince, yet he always went off to do dangerous and life-threatening things. She couldn’t understand his purpose.

What she couldn’t understand even more was that he didn’t seem to think of himself as a prince at all.

Whether at the underground gambling den in the Ghost Market or in this bandit stronghold, he acted like a reckless outlaw, disregarding life and death, rather than a young prince raised in a palace.

With a soft “creak,” Yun Miao gently pushed open the dungeon door.

The sound of snoring filled the empty corridor, and the guards watching over the dungeon were dozing off.

She walked as quietly as she could, trying not to wake them.

After walking through a dark passage, she reached a small prison cell.

The cell was surrounded by iron bars, and the crooked walls of dirt were covered in crumbling plaster, the ceiling seemed ready to collapse at any moment.

A narrow skylight opened at the top, and a beam of moonlight fell onto the cold, hard stone floor, casting a faint and soft shadow.

In the half-light, a young man was slumped against the wall, his head lowered as he slept quietly.

Yun Miao smelled a faint scent of blood, coming from the repeatedly bandaged but still open wounds on his body.

The fresh blood had soaked through his clothes, spreading a deep red stain across his robes.

“Xie Zhiyuan?” Yun Miao called out softly.

There was no response. The young man, leaning against the wall, remained still and quiet.

Yun Miao hurriedly lifted the corner of her skirt and ran over to sit beside him, on the other side of the iron bars.

She took out the small pouch hidden in her sleeve and carefully pushed the sweets and wound medicine through the bars. Then, she pressed her cheek against the iron mesh to look at him.

The still moonlight cascaded over his hair, highlighting the tranquility of his sleeping form.

The silvery moonlight seemed to flow over his exceptionally delicate face, making his brows and eyes appear as if they had been washed by pure, clear water—clean, bright, and untainted.

But his body was covered in wounds.

Yun Miao didn’t know how the Blackwater bandits had treated him. His clothes were slashed with sharp cuts from blades, hidden under drooping sleeves. There were many small, fresh bloodstains on his pale wrists, which stood out starkly against his skin.

She felt that he seemed thinner, the outlines of his bones more prominent.

Yun Miao had always felt guilty.

She believed that Xie Zhiyuan had gone to find the South Beggars to save her, and it was because of her that he had been captured by the Blackwater bandits.

He had such serious arrow wounds; he shouldn’t have gone out at all.

Looking at the boy, leaning against the wall in a deep sleep, his robes stained with blood and covered in wounds, the guilt in Yun Miao’s heart reached its peak.

She was so sad that she wanted to hug him.

But with the iron bars between them, she couldn’t hold him. She could only stretch out her hand through a gap in the mesh, gently touching his cool forehead.

Her fingers traced over his brow, nose, and lip line, inch by inch, eventually resting on one of the small wounds on his wrist.

Unable to hold back, she started crying.

Tears fell, splashing onto the stone floor, stirring up dust and light reflections.

Suddenly, something brushed against her lips.

Yun Miao instinctively parted her lips, and her teeth caught a small piece of sugar, sweet and cool.

She froze for a moment, and before she realized it, the young man beside her had woken up. He reached into the pile of sweets on the ground, grabbed a piece of sugar, and stuffed it into her mouth.

With her mouth suddenly filled with sugar, Yun Miao couldn’t cry anymore. She turned her face and saw Xie Zhiyuan release his hand, which had been feeding her the sugar, propping up his chin, and looking at her.

“Why are you crying?” He tilted his head, asking curiously.

His clean, earnest eyes seemed genuinely curious.

Yun Miao couldn’t speak with the sugar in her mouth. Xie Zhiyuan lifted his sleeve and wiped away the tears on her face, patiently waiting for her to swallow the candy before speaking again.

After a moment, Yun Miao finally finished the piece of sugar.

“When I see you like this…”

She said softly, “It makes me really sad.”

Xie Zhiyuan tilted his head again, seeming a bit confused.

“You’ve really suffered a lot of injuries and lost so much blood…”

Yun Miao lowered her head, looking at the wounds on his body, and softly said, “I’m afraid you’ll die like this.”

“It’s alright.”

Xie Zhiyuan smiled lightly, “Dying here wouldn’t be bad.”

His tone was indifferent, as if he were talking about the death of a stranger. Yun Miao’s heart hurt again. She reached through a gap in the iron mesh and gently tugged at his sleeve.

“You’re my friend.”

She whispered, “I don’t want you to die.”

Xie Zhiyuan lowered his gaze to the hand she extended.

Her wrist was also covered in many bloodstains, scars she had gotten during these days at Blackwater Stronghold.

The young lady raised in the comfort of luxurious silks was too delicate, her tender skin easily torn, and she had done too many heavy tasks alongside the servant women, leaving her hands covered in marks.

“Don’t move.”

He suddenly said, reaching out to grab her wrist.

With a tearing sound, Xie Zhiyuan ripped a clean piece of his shirt off, then grabbed some medicine from the ground and applied it, making a few makeshift bandages to stop the bleeding.

He pulled her hands toward him, lowered his head, and bit the bandage to help her dress the wound.

When he touched the injury, it hurt a little, but the cold herbs quickly soothed the pain. The sharp stinging sensation gradually faded, replaced by a cool relief.

Yun Miao raised her eyes and saw the young man with his head slightly lowered, focused on bandaging her wounds. One hand gently supported her wrist while the other skillfully moved between her fingers.

The soft, gauze-like moonlight enveloped his lowered brows and eyes, creating an almost illusionary tenderness.

The faint bitter scent of medicine filled the air, and the cool moonlight spilled over the ground. They sat together, separated by the iron mesh, their shadows silently intertwining on the floor.

“Done.” Xie Zhiyuan released her hand, glanced at the results of his work, and nodded with satisfaction.

Yun Miao looked down at her hands, now wrapped in cloth. Every inch of the wound had been neatly bandaged, and the irregular edges of the fabric had been tucked in and organized beautifully.

She whispered, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” The young man chuckled softly.

He suddenly leaned closer, pressing against the iron mesh, and lowered his voice. “I have something important to ask of you.”

“What is it?” Yun Miao immediately became anxious, looking around warily to make sure the guards were still asleep.

“We need to figure out how to escape from here.”

Perhaps the movement had pulled at his wounds, as the young man turned his head and coughed lightly. Then, he gestured for her to come closer. “Every word I say now, you need to remember.”

Yun Miao leaned in, pressing her ear against the iron bars.

Xie Zhiyuan turned his face slightly, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke softly.

Yun Miao listened carefully, nodding every now and then. When he was sure she had remembered, he continued.

Throughout the process, he spoke quickly, occasionally coughing, and when he finished, he closed his eyes again, leaning against the wall. His face looked even paler than before.

Seeing his weakened state, Yun Miao remembered the poison he still carried in his body, the one called Tumi fragrance.

Her master had told her before that this poison caused excruciating pain, like a deep, heart-wrenching agony when it acted at night.

“Xie Zhiyuan,” she asked quietly, “Are you… in a lot of pain right now?”

“I’m fine.” He turned his face, eyes closed, not wanting to speak.

Despite trying to maintain a gentle tone, the young man’s patience was nearly exhausted due to the intense pain. His voice became noticeably colder, filled with irritation.

Then, he paused.

The girl beside him, through the iron mesh, reached out and placed a piece of sugar into his mouth.

A small, cool piece of sugar fell into his mouth. He instinctively bit down on it, tasting a faint sweetness.

The sweetness spread in his mouth, and he suddenly froze.

“Xie Zhiyuan, you need to remember to eat.”

The girl’s slightly sweet voice whispered near his ear, “You need to rest well, and remember to treat your wounds.”

“We will escape together,” she said seriously. “You won’t die. You have to promise me.”

The air became still for a moment.

The young man, still leaning against the wall, kept his eyes closed and silently smiled. Then, he slightly turned his head and extended his hand toward the girl beside him.

His deep red sleeve fell, and his fingers, long and well-shaped, gently bent.

Yun Miao extended her hand too, hooking her pinky around his, their fingers intertwining.

“I promise.” He whispered.

Under the crumbling sky, separated by the mesh, they made a silent pact.