Li Ruoshui had always been someone with sharp instincts.

In the cold, damp cave, she felt an inexplicable chill sink into her, running from the back of her neck all the way down her spine.

That cold reached its peak the moment she heard Lu Zhiyao’s quiet laugh.

Something about it felt off. Trusting her gut, she found an excuse to yank his arm and stumble sideways with him—and sure enough, she heard the metallic clang of his sword sliding back into its scabbard.

She felt like tearing her hair out. They were just walking through a cave! How on earth had she managed to set him off?

Silently cursing the system a hundred times over, she forced herself to calm down and lowered her voice to ask:

“I thought I saw a shadow dart by just now. I panicked and pulled you. Are you okay?”

Of course he would be fine. She’d practically used herself as a cushion for him and her back was still numb from the impact, but she had to at least pretend to be concerned.

Lu Zhiyao was still buried against her neck, breathing in a faint, indescribable fragrance. It was subtle, but oddly pleasant.

That restless, violent impulse of his seemed to settle somewhat. For a moment, he no longer felt like killing her.

He nearly forgot about their little bet—if she lost, she was supposed to swallow her sword. Watching her do it herself would be much more interesting than doing it for her.

He took a slow, deep breath, then straightened up. His eyes crinkled with a gentle, smiling expression.

“I’m fine. Thank you for protecting me.”

Li Ruoshui forced a stiff, fake smile in return. If she actually believed that face, she’d have to be out of her mind.

“No, really. I should be thanking you.”

Lu Zhiyao seemed to catch her underlying meaning—or perhaps he was just answering her words at face value—as he replied mildly: “You’re too kind.”

Ahead of them, Jiang Nian kept walking, the sound of splashing water echoing through the narrow tunnel.

“Why is the water getting deeper?”

He sounded puzzled. What had been ankle-deep before was now rising halfway up his calves.

“This isn’t right. The water should be draining away, not collecting here.”

Lu Feiyue immediately sensed something was wrong. The sound of flowing water ahead had almost completely died away, and the steadily deepening pool of water was a clear sign something was off.

She tilted her head, listening carefully to the neighboring tunnel. Though it was muffled, she could tell the water there was rushing fast and loud—completely different from here.

Suddenly, Jiang Nian stopped walking and held out his fluorite, blocking the others behind him.

The tunnel ahead opened up and was no longer so low-ceilinged. Though the upper part was lost in darkness, below they could make out a deep, shadowy pool of water. One more step and they’d be wading right in.

This definitely wasn’t a naturally formed feature.

Jiang Nian lifted the fluorite and swept it around the walls, spotting a thick hemp rope, about as wide as a baby’s fist, dangling down near the entrance to the pool. It looked both suspicious and strangely reasonable.

Reasonable, because it meant they were on the right track. Suspicious, because no one could guess exactly what it was meant to do.

Li Ruoshui also looked up at the rope, falling silent. No one dared decide too quickly whether to pull it or not.

“Why don’t we ask Li Ruoshui?” Lu Zhiyao suggested, sounding perfectly relaxed and casual. “She should know, right?”

Under the ghostly green glow, Li Ruoshui looked at Lu Feiyue and Jiang Nian’s eyes before glancing at Lu Zhiyao’s smiling face. She swallowed hard.

Even now, she knew perfectly well—no matter how he tried to act puzzled about how she knew his name, Lu Zhiyao would never believe something as stupid as “I dreamed about the future.”

Their bet was like a sheet of paper between them: he didn’t tear it only because he found it entertaining. But she couldn’t afford to give up and admit it was fake.

“Pull it,” she said firmly. “I’m sure this is the way out.”

She didn’t actually know the plot here—but these two were the story’s protagonists. She was gambling on the power of the main-character halo.

Lu Zhiyao raised his eyebrows slightly, surprised by how certain she sounded.

After a moment of silence, Lu Feiyue nodded. “Let’s stand back a bit. It should be safer deeper in the tunnel.”

They all retreated, giving the rope a wide berth. Once everyone was in position, Jiang Nian reached out and gave it a hard tug.

A creaking noise echoed, followed by the rattling click-clack of gears turning all around them. The pool of water suddenly surged forward like a dam breaking, pouring out rapidly.

The water level dropped fast. From within the pool, a small boat surfaced, bobbing a few times as if it might get swept away with the current.

“Quick—get on the boat!”

Lu Feiyue grabbed Jiang Nian and leapt onto it in one smooth motion. But Li Ruoshui didn’t know any martial arts. She couldn’t jump that far, and fear prickled in her chest.

Lu Zhiyao seemed to sense her hesitation. He let out a low laugh, casually wrapped an arm around her waist, and with a light push of his foot, launched them both toward the waiting boat.

“You dreamed it all before—why so scared now?”

He teased her lightly, and the next moment they landed on the rocking little boat.

The four of them were swept away by the current, the vessel banging against the cavern walls with rattling force, but never slowing down.

Rough stone scraped against their arms, icy water splashed into their faces, and the jolting ride forced them to grip the boat’s rope tightly to stay steady.

In that chaos, Jiang Nian clung tightly to Lu Feiyue. Whatever formal distance had existed between them before seemed to vanish completely.

Compared to those two snuggled lovebirds, Li Ruoshui’s situation was a lot more miserable.

She couldn’t even manage to grab the rope. All she could do was cling desperately to Lu Zhiyao’s robe, eyes screwed shut as the spray of water hit her face.

Lu Zhiyao hadn’t bothered grabbing any rope at all. He simply let himself sway with the tossing boat, dragging her along like two rootless water plants drifting in all directions.

The boat plunged down a small rapid, sending them momentarily airborne before crashing back down in a splash.

Eyes shut tight, Li Ruoshui was muttering every curse and prayer she could think of, her hands shaking as she begged every deity she knew for help.

The boat smashed into a slightly lower rock, nearly throwing both of them overboard. The hem of her robe ended up soaked in the water.

“Ahhh—Amitabha Buddha—!” She finally couldn’t hold back and screamed.

Lu Zhiyao let out a soft, relaxed laugh.

“Are you that scared? Your temperature’s gone up again.”

Li Ruoshui clung so hard to his robe she barely even registered what he was saying, too focused on not getting flung into the water.

The boat kept crashing and lurching forward. Then, all of a sudden, a breeze drifted through the cave. It was different from the usual damp chill—there was a fresh, clean quality to it, with a hint of pear blossom scent.

“We’re near the exit.”

Lu Zhiyao’s long black hair was soaked and plastered against them both. Cold droplets dripped down onto her neck, sending little shivers through her.

After another sharp jolt, the boat finally spilled out into a calmer pool. No more jagged rocks surrounded them, and the slowed current gently nudged the boat along.

They drifted out from the narrow mountain cave into a wide, open river. Along the banks, pear trees bloomed in snowy-white clusters, stretching far into the distance in winding rows.

Petals fell onto the water, floating downstream like delicate white flakes on a lake’s surface.

Jiang Nian and Lu Feiyue exchanged a glance, then quickly let go of each other’s arms, looking away in sudden embarrassment.

Of everyone on the boat, only Lu Zhiyao seemed a little disappointed the ride was ending.

“Let go.”

At that moment, Li Ruoshui was still wrapped tightly in his arms—but there wasn’t anything remotely romantic about it.

His hand had been pressing against her carotid artery the entire time, making her worry the whole ride that he’d strangle her silently on top of them capsizing.

She pushed aside the wet strands of his hair draped over her, blinking slowly as her eyes adjusted to the bright light. When she finally looked up, she found herself staring at his glaringly pale neck, with a single dark mole at his collarbone.

Her frantic grappling had pulled half of his robe open, leaving his damp hair hanging against his chest. The combination made his lips look redder and his skin whiter than ever, water droplets clinging to his lashes and glinting like tiny gems.

He looked like a study in stark black, white, and red—like an intense, richly painted oil portrait with an almost fragile beauty.

Bathed in the sunlight, Lu Zhiyao once again seemed like the picture of early spring apricot blossoms—quiet, gentle, with no trace of anything wrong at all.

“You’re staring at me again.”

Lu Zhiyao turned his head as if to “look” at her, lips curved in a lazy smile. Far from being embarrassed, he even stretched slightly, letting her get an even better view.

Li Ruoshui rolled her eyes and turned away, refusing to acknowledge his shameless posing.

“So many flowers here,” she muttered instead.

A light breeze rustled through, sending pear blossoms drifting onto the river like falling snow. Layer upon layer of petals gathered on the current, flowing steadily downstream.

Their little boat drifted slowly toward shore. The fresh white blossoms clung to its sides, but when the water slapped against them, it churned up rotting yellowed petals beneath—evidence these had been piling up for quite some time.

The pear trees didn’t line the bank in a neat row; they formed a dense forest stretching endlessly back from the water.

Lu Feiyue took in the scene, brow faintly furrowed. “Yuncheng has such a hidden paradise?”

They disembarked, stepping onto a ground carpeted in petals. Their shoes sank into the soft, squishy layer, and sticky juices oozed around the edges.

Jiang Nian bent to sweep away the fresh petals on top, revealing a dark brown layer of decaying flower pulp beneath. It was clear this grove had been here for many years.

Lu Feiyue lifted her gaze again, studying the quiet, watchful trees. She frowned slightly.

“These petals work just like snow,” she observed. “One breeze and all traces are covered completely. But these trees aren’t something you can grow in just a year or two. Why would whoever owns this place go to so much trouble?”

The scene was beautiful—but for Lu Zhiyao, the flowers weren’t half as interesting as listening to the wind around them.

They followed the mountain path inward. The further they walked, the thicker the grove became, until the trees were practically blocking the way.

Just as they were hesitating about where to go next, the sharp sound of a horse’s whinny echoed nearby.

They moved quietly toward the source. The trees here were even older and thicker, trunks gnarled and massive compared to the younger grove behind them.

Peeking through the branches, they saw petals drifting down into a small courtyard below. A two-story wooden building stood there, with numerous masked men scattered around the yard and several horse-drawn carriages parked inside.

The horses munched on feed, snorting occasionally. The carriages themselves were strikingly luxurious—not only were they hung with fine curtains, but even the wheels were wrapped in soft leather to muffle sound.

But the most shocking sight wasn’t the fancy carriages.

It was the row of a dozen or so iron cages lined up in front of the house.

Inside each cage lay one or two limp, exhausted young women. Paper tags were pasted to the cages, each marked with a place name—small counties, bustling trade cities, even one labeled Imperial Capital.

The women were dressed extravagantly in fine silks and gauzy fabrics, their figures striking. Every outfit was different in color and cut, but all revealed enough skin to leave no question of intent.

Their eyes were vacant, staring lifelessly at the sky. When a white pear blossom fell on a face, not one of them even tried to brush it away.

They looked no different from livestock awaiting slaughter.

One girl’s eyes shifted slightly, searching. Suddenly she blinked against a shard of harsh light that caught her eye, and tears welled up automatically.

She didn’t bother wiping them away. She just stared intently toward the source of that glint, spotting a pale shape moving gently among the dense fall of petals.

A glimpse of soft white, swaying in the breeze.

=^_^=