After fleeing the assault by Cao Wenyan's forces, Xue Horan and Yuan Xiurong ran all night, pursued by many disciples of the Beixing Sect. They finally found a lonely, fenced house on the outskirts of a town at the foot of Tianshan Mountain.
Xue Horan peered over the gate. Beside a small flowerbed, there was a wooden tombstone. He stretched his head over the fence and read the inscription: "Brother Black and his lover lie here." He turned to Yuan Xiurong. "These are flower bed tombs?"
"I'm not sure," Yuan Xiurong replied.
Xue Horan hesitated. "Well, let's not stay here. Let's go somewhere else."
Suddenly, twenty people surrounded them, Beixing disciples who seemed to refuse to approach the house itself. They only maintained a defensive perimeter around Xue Horan and Yuan Xiurong.
"It seems that they dare not approach this home," Yuan Xiurong observed.
Xue Horan knocked on the gatepost. "Is anyone at home?"
They stood there for a while, and none of the Beixing disciples made a move toward them. Then, in the distance, they saw a white-haired man walking toward the house, blowing a soft, distinct melody on a pipe. They couldn't see his face, but his white hair suggested he was a master elder. As he approached, it became clear he was carrying two large jars of wine.
Xue Horan muttered to himself, "I seem to have heard this tone before."
"Horan, where did you hear it?" Yuan Xiurong asked.
"I'm not sure, but I must have heard this tone before," Xue Horan insisted. He looked around; the disciples seemed to take another cautious step back from the property.
When the white-haired man approached, he appeared to be an elderly man in his late eighties. He looked at Xue Horan and Yuan Xiurong. "What are you two doing here?" he asked.
Yuan Xiurong asked, "This qianbei, is this your home?"
The old man said, "No, I was paid to take care of this place for the owner. The previous caretaker suddenly died of illness, so I have to take over."
"What's your name?" Xue Horan asked.
"Everyone calls me Lao Lao," the Lao Lao replied.
"Lao Lao? But aren't you a man?" Xue Horan asked, confused by the pronunciation.
Lao Lao chuckled. "Yes, it's funny. I'm old, and my surname is Lao. When you pronounce it, it does sound like grandmother." He looked closely at the two young people, his gaze lingering on Xue Horan. "You and the owner of this house have some similar characteristics. I haven't seen him for many years. Last time, it was the white-haired man who dropped off the money."
"Lao Lao, why aren't those people coming near here?" Yuan Xiurong asked.
Lao Lao chuckled again. "They dare not."
"Why?" Xue Horan pressed.
"I don't know. I guess it's because this place belongs to someone in Tianshan Sector, or it may be because of the two homeowners," Lao Lao theorized.
"Are we in Tianshan?" Xue Horan realized.
"Yes, I have an inn not far from here," Lao Lao said.
Xue Horan said, "We really want to rest in your inn, but as soon as we get out of here, those people will rush toward us."
Yuan Xiurong quickly took out a handkerchief. She dipped her finger in the blood from Xue Horan's injured hand and smeared the blood on the snowflake sewn into the corner of the cloth. She handed the handkerchief to Lao Lao.
"Lao Lao, if you can put this handkerchief somewhere in your inn that will be easy for people to see. Our friends are currently looking for us. If they see this, they will come and help us," she said.
Lao Lao took the handkerchief and put it in his robe. He walked into the house, opened the shed, and carried the two jars of wine inside. After a while, he walked back out. "I'm sorry, you two, but you must stay here. I am not the owner of the house, so I can't let you two in."
"Thank you," Yuan Xiurong said, accepting the boundary.
Xue Horan and Yuan Xiurong watched Lao Lao slowly disappear into the distance.
Xue Horan frowned, looking at the circling disciples. "Why do they guard us like wolves guarding their prey?"
"Horan, how is your hand?" Yuan Xiurong asked, concerned.
"It hurts, but the bleeding has stopped," Xue Horan replied.
"That's good. I hope Rao gege spots the handkerchief," Yuan Xiurong said.
Cao Yanmei sat in the inn, utterly lost, crying and drinking. Her heart was consumed by sadness and loneliness. By now, she knew Cao Fengge must know she was gone. The Beixing Sect had been her only home, and now she was a stranger with nowhere to go. She buried her head in her arms on the table and started sobbing.
The waiter nudged the innkeeper. "Laoban, what should we do if that guniang doesn't get up?"
Lao Lao hit the waiter's head. "Don't mess with her. Do you know who she is? She is the daughter of Chief Cao of Beixing Sect. If she wants to stay, let her stay."
Just then, approaching from the door were Yongzheng, who was carrying the injured Dong Shun on his back, and Rao Zhengsheng.
Rao Zhengsheng walked to the register. "Laoban, we would like one room," he said.
"Name," Lao Lao asked.
"Yuan Li," Rao Zhengsheng replied. As he reached into his inner robe for his money bag, he saw a white handkerchief with a stain of blood at the corner tucked near the register. He looked at Lao Lao. "Laoban, where did you get this from?"
"A young guniang gave it to me," Lao Lao said.
"Where is this guniang?" Rao Zhengsheng pressed, recognizing the blood-stained snowflake pattern as Yuan Xiurong's signal for help.
Lao Lao said, "She and another young man are on the outskirts of town. Thirty minutes' walk from here."
Rao Zhengsheng immediately placed a small gold ingot on the table. "Please take me to see them."
Lao Lao instructed the waiter. "Waiter, take this man to Ma Dishi's house."
Rao Zhengsheng turned to Yongzheng and Dong Shun. "He is going to take me to get Horan and Xiurong."
"Are you sure?" Yongzheng asked.
Rao Zhengsheng confirmed. "It's Xiurong calling for help. Blood smeared the snowflake, indicating that she is in trouble and needs assistance."
Lao Lao chimed in. "Young man, I think it would be best if you go too. There are people surrounding your two friends." He looked at the waiter. "Go get the prepared food." He smiled at Rao Zhengsheng. "Don't get me wrong, but I think you'd better go there. If you bring your two friends here, those men will follow you here, and there is likely to be a fight."
The waiter returned and gave them two baskets full of prepared food. Lao Lao added, "You stay close to the house; those people will not attack you. Remember, the house is someone else's. I will not allow you to stay in it." He then added, with a suggestive smile, "But if you decide to invite yourself in, it's not my problem."
Rao Zhengsheng took the basket. "Thank you." He looked at Yongzheng. "I can carry him."
Yongzheng shook his head. "Unfortunately, you still have injuries. I will carry him."
At that moment, Cao Yanmei looked up and saw Yongzheng. She rushed toward the door. "Yongzheng…"
Yongzheng turned around. "Cao guniang, what are you doing here?"
Cao Yanmei cried, heartbroken. "Yongzheng, I have nowhere else to go."
Rao Zhengsheng, ever the compassionate leader, said, "Cao guniang, if you have nowhere to go, just go with us."
Dong Shun protested weakly from Yongzheng's back. "Zhengsheng... what are you doing?"
"Dong shushu, I know what I am doing," Rao Zhengsheng affirmed.
The waiter led the four—Rao Zhengsheng, Yongzheng carrying Dong Shun, and Cao Yanmei—toward the small house. When they arrived, they saw Xue Horan sitting on the ground, clearly ill, while Yuan Xiurong stood guard by the gate.
Rao Zhengsheng asked the waiter anxiously, "Can we go in?"
The waiter replied, "I don't know, we are caretakers, we can't give permission for you to stay."
Rao Zhengsheng's heart sank. "Why is Horan sitting?" He ran ahead, leaving the rest behind. Yongzheng also quickened his pace, with Cao Yanmei quickly following.
When Rao Zhengsheng reached the door, he saw Xue Horan's face was pale. Rao Zhengsheng quickly knelt and touched his forehead. "How long has he been like this?"
Yuan Xiurong worriedly replied, "For about two hours. I think it was from his wound."
Rao Zhengsheng immediately picked Xue Horan up and rushed into the house, ignoring Lao Lao's warning. He checked the first room, saw it was too neatly arranged, and realized it must be the owner's. He moved to the second room, which had a slightly larger bed, and gently laid Xue Horan down.
"Xiurong, what do you need?" Rao Zhengsheng asked, focused on the triage.
Yuan Xiurong replied, "Wash the wound with hot water. I will go and see if there is medicine."
Rao Zhengsheng and Yuan Xiurong quickly left to find supplies. Yongzheng walked into the room and gently touched Xue Horan's feverish forehead.
Yongzheng murmured softly, "Horan…"
Xue Horan opened his eyes, glanced at Yongzheng, then closed them again, speaking weakly. "Yongzheng, you came because you heard me calling your name, right?"
"I'm sorry, I'm late," Yongzheng whispered. He lowered his head and kissed Xue Horan's forehead, then the tip of his nose, and finally his lips. "Sorry, I am late."
Xue Horan kissed Yongzheng back, a weak but genuine smile crossing his face. "No, your timing has always been perfect."