The pre-dawn chill still clung to the air, but the east was beginning to bleed from bruised violet into soft, pale apricot. The land was shrouded in a heavy, damp morning fog, smelling of pine needles and wet earth. A faint, pearly light just peaked over the distant hills, etching the dark silhouettes of the trees against the brightening sky.
Yongzheng moved with the single-minded focus of a man carrying a precious, yet broken, weight. He was still carrying Xue Horan on his back, the desperate journey toward Li Village consuming his every step. The silence of the morning was disturbed only by the rhythmic crunch of Yongzheng's boots on the dirt path and the shallow, fragile sound of Xue Horan's breathing pressed against his ear.
As the sun gathered strength and fully crested the horizon, pouring golden light over the landscape, the dense fog began to burn away, revealing dew-kissed leaves and sparkling cobwebs. The full, warm sunshine brought no comfort, however; it only highlighted the exhaustion etched onto Yongzheng's face and the silent, profound trauma of the young man he carried. The new day had begun, and their agonizing escape continued.
The first words finally broke the agonizing silence between the two. Xue Horan murmured, his voice faint, "Yongzheng, where are we going?"
"My house," Yongzheng replied simply.
"Why there?"
"Your da shixiong is seriously injured," Yongzheng explained. "Yan Yisheng can help him."
Xue Horan asked, his voice threaded with anxiety, "How is he?"
"He will live."
Xue Horan looked at the man carrying him, noting the strain in his body. "Yongzheng, why don't you rest?"
"I am not tired," Yongzheng replied, though they had been traveling at a punishing pace.
Xue Horan knew they had been walking for nearly three hours. He could clearly see the sweat beading on Yongzheng's face. He tried another approach. "Yongzheng, I'm thirsty."
"There should be a stream not too far from here," Yongzheng said, taking the cue. "We can rest and drink some water over there."
After another hour, Yongzheng and Xue Horan came across a small, clean stream. Yongzheng gently lowered Xue Horan to the ground and looked at him with quiet concern. "Do you want to wash yourself?"
"Yes," Xue Horan whispered.
Xue Horan walked slowly behind a large stone and took off the guard's clothes. Then he walked slowly into the cold water, submerging his body until only his upper chest was visible as he sat on a rock. He began to scrub himself with desperate fury.
He felt extremely dirty. It wasn't just dirt he wanted to wash away; he wanted to peel off the first layer of his skin, hoping that he could somehow become clean again. But no matter how he scrubbed, the feeling of filth clung to him. He rubbed his skin until it turned a painful red, yet the deep, pervasive sense of being violated and soiled remained.
Yongzheng, with his back still turned, heard the desperate grunts and frantic splashing. He was deeply worried, and when he finally turned his head, he saw Xue Horan scrubbing himself relentlessly. Horrified, he saw that Xue Horan's skin had turned crimson, nearly bleeding, yet the innocent young man showed no sign of stopping.
Yongzheng rushed into the cold river and gripped both of Xue Horan's hands, halting the frantic movement. "Horan, stop…"
Xue Horan's facade shattered. He burst into tears, the water streaming down his face mixing with his own grief. "Yongzheng, how do I wipe it off? Why do I still feel dirty?" He held Yongzheng's hand tightly. "Yongzheng, scrub my back for me, you must scrub very hard!"
"Horan!" Yongzheng shouted, his voice cracking with pain. Seeing Xue Horan break down like this was agonizing. He understood the feeling perfectly; he had soaked his own hands in hot water many times trying to wash away bloodstains that seemed to refuse to leave his skin.
He held Xue Horan's face in both of his hands and slowly lowered himself down until they were eye-to-eye in the water. "Horan, you listen to me. I don't care how others evaluate you or think of you. To me, Horan, you are still as pure as the first day I met you in Jiangnan. I will never treat you differently."
Xue Horan looked at Yongzheng through a veil of tears. He collapsed into Yongzheng's arms. "Yongzheng, I don't know how to wash off this dirty feeling. I am to blame. If I had obeyed my parents and stayed in Butterfly Island obediently, I would have not taken Cao Fengge back. My parents and my seniors would still be alive. This is my fault. I should be blamed."
Yongzheng gently wiped away Xue Horan's tears. "Horan, I also blame myself. If I had come to rescue you earlier, then this might not have happened to you. If you want to blame someone, blame me. I will take responsibility. Be held accountable." He lowered his head and kissed Xue Horan's forehead. "I won't let anything happen to you again. I can assure you."
Xue Horan raised his head to look at Yongzheng, and in that moment, he suddenly understood the feeling of unconditional love—a love without asking for anything in return. He finally understood what his father had been struggling to say before he died: He likes you. Xue Horan murmured, "Yongzheng…"
"Uh…" Yongzheng prompted.
Xue Horan didn't voice his realization. Instead, he hugged Yongzheng's waist and leaned into his embrace. He whispered, "Your clothes are wet." If he could speak his heart, he would definitely have said, "Thank you, I like you too."
After Xue Horan finished washing and dressed himself in the borrowed guard uniform, Yongzheng had caught two fish. The two sat together by the stream, grilling the fish over a small fire.
Just as the food was nearly ready, four men dressed entirely in black walked over and stopped to rest by the river.
The four men in black sat not far from Yongzheng and Xue Horan, their chatter suddenly turning serious.
Man one said, urgency in his voice, "Drink and hurry back. This matter must be reported to Chief Gu."
Man two grumbled, "That bitch won't let us off our trail."
Laughter suddenly poured into their ears like thunder. A beautiful middle-aged woman in brightly colored clothes flew up and landed gracefully on a rock right in front of the four men. She smiled, her eyes sharp. "Keep running. Let me see how far you can run."
Man one challenged her, "You are in the Gu territory."
"I know," the woman replied, unfazed. "This is exactly where I want to be."
Man three threatened, "You are not afraid we will kill you?"
The woman threw her head back, laughing. "I, Wen Huifang's only fear is gray hair. Death..." She smiled widely. "Is the only thing I am not afraid of."
A silver leaf suddenly flew toward Wen Huifang. She slowly pulled out a needle, its shaft trailed by a clear red thread. She casually used the needle to scratch the right side of her head twice, a mocking gesture, and then whipped the needle out, sending it piercing the silver leaf and nailing it firmly to a nearby rock.
Gu Jinjing flew over the stream and landed directly in front of Wen Huifang. She challenged her fiercely, "Who are you? How dare you cause trouble in the Gu territory?"
Wen Huifang's smile was light and dismissive. "I have lived for three decades, come and go as I want. I don't care which territory belongs to whom."
"Who are you?" Gu Jinjing repeated, then looked at the needle that had secured the leaf. "Are you from the Cao Household?"
"Maybe yes, maybe no," Wen Huifang replied, then looked critically at the leaf Gu Jinjing had thrown. She frowned. "Your leaf skill is so bad. How many days did Lao Tang last before he died?"
Gu Jinjing's face darkened instantly. "Lao Tang? Who is Lao Tang?"
Wen Huifang found the question utterly ridiculous and couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably.
"What's so funny?" Gu Jinjing demanded.
"I think your answer is ridiculous. You learned 'Silver Leaf', but you don't know who Lao Tang is." Her demeanor changed, suddenly stern and demanding. "Or do you think that the 'Silver Leaf Manual' belongs to your Gu family?"
"The 'Silver Leaf Manual' belongs to the Gu family," Gu Jinjing insisted.
"Taken what belongs to others and refused to acknowledge the rightful owner, instead making it your own. How ridiculous? Lao Tang will be heartbroken if he heard this."
Gu Jinjing countered, "Speaking of which, you really learned to imitate the Cao 'Red Thread Needle'."
"Who imitates who, we will soon know."
The two women stared back and forth, building tension, when a third figure, Yuan Chaomei, stepped forward by the river, holding a white umbrella. "Wen qianbei, we are here just to pass on a message. Don't waste too much time. Our Chief, he is not a patient person."
Wen Huifang reached into her robe and threw a letter violently toward Gu Jinjing. "Meet our chief's demands, otherwise be prepared for a complete destruction!" She then flew back to Yuan Chaomei, and the two women turned and walked away, leaving the four men in black and the bewildered Gu Jinjing to contemplate the sudden threat.