Chapter 9

Wei Jing opened his eyes again. The dark, low thatched roof and the flickering orange campfire dispelled the chill carried by the river breeze. His clothes were dry, and a woman was leaning over the head of his bed, softly crying.

He reached out his hand, saying, “… Don’t cry, I’m fine.”

The sound was very weak and faint yet unmistakably real. For a moment, Shao Qing thought she must be imagining things. She suddenly lifted her head and met a pair of dark eyes—in which the dancing flames and her own astonished face were reflected.

“Are you really awake?!”

Tears and laughter mingled on Shao Qing’s face as she squeezed his hand tightly. “This is wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!”

A single word like “good” could never express the depth of her joy. Wiping her face, she whispered, “You know what? We’re both alive!”

“I know, I know.”

Her hair was a disheveled mess, and her words were jumbled. Yet Wei Jing showed no hint of disdain; instead, he soothed her softly before asking, “Are you feeling any discomfort?”

Shao Qing wasn’t entirely sure. Her face was as pale as paper, her complexion markedly dull—and by the look of it, she wasn’t doing much better either.

“Your forehead…”

There was a bruise near Shao Qing’s hairline, a dark mark from when she had jumped into the river and struck a tree trunk quite hard. The impact was severe enough that she still felt a faint dizziness. When Wei Jing lightly touched it, she winced in pain and quickly pulled away, saying, “It’s nothing serious—I just hit it on that tree trunk. It was pretty heavy. It’ll probably take several days to fade.”

Compared to Wei Jing’s condition, she felt her own injuries were minor. It was him who couldn’t afford any delay.

“How is the poison in your body? We must set off at dawn—we need to find a doctor as soon as possible.”

Just having him awake was a relief; Shao Qing could half-support him because she wouldn’t have been able to move him at all on her own.

She grew somewhat anxious: “We don’t have any silver coins, and we don’t have household registration either. I wonder what kind of place this is—won’t they search us?”

Based on the memories she retained, the household registration system in Great Chu was as strict as in any ancient state. Traveling to distant places required a travel permit, and anyone found without proper registration would be immediately seized and made a government slave.

Ordinary towns that aren’t critical checkpoints generally wouldn’t inspect travelers’ permits. However, Wei Jing’s body was marked with knife and sword wounds—and two unusual cuts on his collarbone were too conspicuous. If these were reported, the trouble would be enormous.

Being branded a government slave would be one thing, but Shao Qing’s greatest fear was that the new emperor’s men had already been ordered to search along the river. If their secret were exposed, there might never be a second lucky chance to escape.

But Wei Jing’s wounds were poisoned—it was impossible for him not to seek treatment.

“We should still be in Yizhou, though this place is likely the lower reaches of Qian River.”

At that moment, the sky was just beginning to brighten. Through the open door of the ramshackle hut, Wei Jing could vaguely see the wide, placid expanse of the river shrouded in morning mist. He mused for a moment and said, “In the upper reaches of Qian River, the mountains are rugged and the forests dense; both overland and water routes are difficult. Besides, the Qianshui basin is so vast that they won’t be able to tell exactly where we landed.”

“More importantly, they wouldn’t be able to determine whether we were alive or dead; they would only search on a precautionary basis.”

Wei Jing tried to sit up, and Shao Qing hurried forward to support him, helping him lean against the hut’s wall. He said, “As long as we don’t give away any clues, once they’ve searched for a while, this matter will naturally be dropped.”

“By then, with the enemy none the wiser and after we’ve completely healed our injuries, planning our next move won’t be too late.”

A flash of red crossed Wei Jing’s eyes before it disappeared. In a low, comforting tone, he said to Shao Qing, “Our priority must be to get the poison out of our system. As for the scars from swords and knives that show in a few places – we’ll just say we were set upon and robbed by mountain bandits.”

Having experienced so much in life, his insight greatly surpassed Shao Qing’s. With just a moment’s thought, he devised an appropriate plan.

Shao Qing furrowed her brows and asked, “Then what about your other injuries? Especially those two on your collarbone?”

“Nothing serious. A bit of wound-healing medicine will suffice—I’ll take care of them myself.”

Wei Jing had fought on the battlefield for so long that—even though he was a noble prince commander—he was well-versed in treating external injuries. As long as there was medicine and the patient remained awake, it was never a problem.

As for matters like money, they would have to be dealt with once they were out. He said, “Don’t worry, ordinary towns don’t check travel permits.”

As for household registration, even in his destitute state, Wei Jing didn’t care about it at all.

“En!” Shao Qing finally felt reassured. She smiled and said, “Then let’s tidy up and set off—daylight is nearly here.”

“Alright.” Wei Jing nodded before asking, “Is the sword still with us?”

Upon receiving an affirmative answer, he advised, “Take the sword along. The world isn’t at peace, especially in the border towns and counties to the north and south.”

“Hmm.”

Having been raised in seclusion within the inner chambers—where all her life was under the emperor’s watchful eye—Shao Qing didn’t entirely understand what “not at peace” truly meant. However, since Wei Jing had specifically cautioned her, she dared not be negligent. First, she used the wound-bandage cloth she had removed earlier to secure the sword to her back, and then she went to fetch his dried outer garments so he could dress.

Wei Jing’s clothes had originally been soaked with blood along the front, but after being washed in the river for so long, the stains had faded. The garments, which were originally a deep gray, now looked rather inconspicuous.

Shao Qing picked up several muddy eggs from the edge of the fire pit—these were the roasted wild duck eggs left over from yesterday. She cracked open the mud shells, cleaned the eggs, and handed them to Wei Jing.

Not knowing what the situation was outside and lacking money, it was necessary to fill their stomachs. Eating only roasted eggs was rather dry, but that was all they could manage for now; later she would help Wei Jing go out to get some water. Now that he was awake, Shao Qing could no longer feed him water as she had last night.

After their hunger was satisfied and with several duck eggs still remaining, Shao Qing tucked them all into her bosom, extinguished the fire, and restacked the firewood and brushwood. She didn’t bother tidying up their appearance at all. Instead, she deliberately smeared fire ash on her face—and especially on herself, making sure that every inch of exposed skin on her hands and neck was covered. Right now, the two of them were in no condition to attract any unwanted attention.

First, they would pretend to be fellow members of the Beggar Sect. The pair supported each other as they walked, knowing that this identity was the least conspicuous—as long as no one got too close to take a careful look, everything would be fine.

Finally, she silently thanked the hut’s owner as she propped Wei Jing up and led him out the door.

Outside, the sky had already grown bright. The bank of the great river at dawn was shrouded in mist. The wind brushed over the riverbank, reeds swayed, wild ducks flapped their wings, and sparkling water lapped against the sandy shore.

For the first time, Shao Qing clearly took in the surrounding scenery. She lifted her eyes and gazed across one side of the bank. There, the exposed riverbed spanned several dozen meters wide; beyond the sandy area, thick clumps of grass and reed grew, and further still, an embankment about four or five meters high rose gradually. Tall grasses spread upward along it, forming a dense cover.

On top of the embankment, there appeared to be a road leading toward the high mountains upstream, but clearly, not many people traveled that way—no small path was visible continuing down to the riverbank.

Human settlements were likely to be found downstream. From afar, Shao Qing thought she saw a wisp of cooking smoke—perhaps, perhaps not—but it lifted her spirits.

“As long as there’s a road, there will be people,” she mused.

After discussing it with Wei Jing, the two decided not to climb up the embankment and take that small road. Instead, they continued walking along the riverbank downstream.

There were a lot of reeds and wild grasses that had to be pushed aside one by one to make a path. It was a bit troublesome, but given their unique identities, they preferred to study the surroundings carefully before exposing themselves. That way, if anything happened, it would provide them a little buffer.

Although Wei Jing was awake, he was still very weak—about half of his weight rested on Shao Qing’s shoulders. It was naturally laborious for her, but she had long been mentally prepared for this; it wasn’t the first time she’d done such work, and it was far easier than trudging along a slippery mountain path.

The only thing that made her uneasy was the sword strapped to her back. With its tip uncovered and extremely sharp, she was always afraid of accidentally pricking her thigh. She would occasionally reach back to shift it just a little. Wei Jing remarked that the world was in turmoil, which made her feel a bit uneasy. Coupled with her status as a fugitive, she had been extra vigilant along the way—constantly glancing around, left and right. Yet she never expected that trouble would catch up with them so soon.

…

As they continued walking, more than an hour had passed. Although there were still plenty of reeds and wild grasses, fortunately they weren’t as densely packed as upstream. In the gaps along the sandy bank, footprints could be seen, and on either side of the embankment the grasses thinned out just enough so that the road in the middle became vaguely visible. There must be a village or town nearby.

Shao Qing’s spirits lifted, and she quickened her pace. But just as she was about to push aside the clumps of grass and step forward, Wei Jing suddenly grabbed her arm. Though she didn’t fully understand his concern, the two had developed a silent understanding through their shared ordeals. Instantly, Shao Qing helped support Wei Jing, and together, they quietly stepped back and crouched low, like cats concealing themselves in the dense wild grasses.

She peered carefully ahead and saw a three-way junction on the embankment. Through the blur, she even thought she heard the sound of running footsteps. Holding her breath, she waited. After another brief moment, two young men burst out of the fork in a state of panic, running in a hurry. Judging by their appearance, one seemed to be the master and the other his servant. The master ran alongside, shouting, “I’ve already given you my horse! What more do you want?!”

Then, a burly, dark-faced man with a thick beard came charging after them. His face twisted into a ferocious grin as he sneered, “You little brat, how dare you drive my brother away with the horse?!”

“Not only do I want the horse, I want money too!”

By the time he finished speaking, he had already caught up with the two ahead. With one swift movement, he flung the servant to the ground and snatched the master’s bundle—its heavy weight instantly making his eyes light up.

“In broad daylight, how can imperial law not exist?!”

The master clutched his bundle desperately and refused to let go. The black-faced brute tugged at him repeatedly in vain. Enraged, he exclaimed, “You want imperial law?! For years the mountains have been plagued by banditry—why haven’t you seen the authorities launch a crackdown?!”

Then the man unexpectedly drew a dagger from his boot and viciously stabbed the master. The master let out a pained cry before being pushed off the riverbank, tumbling down with a rumbling sound.

The black-faced brute moved with seasoned precision, clearly no stranger to such deeds. Without pause, he seized the startled servant as he scrambled to his feet and, with one swift stroke, pushed him down the embankment.

Soon, the rhythmic sound of hoofbeats—”da da da”—rang out as another burly man rode in. “Old Three, why did it take so long?” he called.

“Those two little brats sure can run!”

The black-faced man spat and weighed the bundle in his hand. With a satisfied smile, he flipped over, shared a ride with his companion on one horse, and immediately spurred the mount, turning on his heel to leave.

In broad daylight, it had all seemed like a robbery case, but before long, it had escalated into a murder. Shao Qing felt her limbs numb as she watched the horses turn around and ride away; she stiffly glanced at the embankment where the master and servant had tumbled down.

“Let’s get moving!”

Hurriedly, she helped Wei Jing to his feet. Those two—having been stabbed in the chest—were surely done for. They were in no condition to attract any more trouble.

Wei Jing steadied himself and took a deep breath. Then, first reaching for Shao Qing’s hand, he urged her.

Surprised, Shao Qing turned her head. After listening for a moment, Wei Jing said in a low voice, “There’s no one nearby. Let’s go over and take a look.”

He pointed toward the riverbank where the master and servant had rolled down.