Chen Ping'an dashed forward with the young girl slung across his back, running even faster than he had on the way up the mountain, like a thief fleeing after defiling a noble maiden. Ning Yao, severely injured internally, felt every jolt like a knife, but had no time for pride or propriety—if the old ape landed a punch on them now, she and Chen Ping'an would be "dying for love" in the most literal sense.
Sweat streamed from her forehead as she gasped, "How are you still alive? Not a single stone hit you? How did you know the old ape's backup plan was aimed at you and not me?"
After unleashing a barrage of questions, she suddenly snapped back to the present, "Never mind that now! While the old ape is catching his breath, run as far as you possibly can! I've already commanded my sword to tangle with him as long as possible, but it won't hold out much longer!"
The straw-sandaled youth nodded lightly, darting through alleys and lanes like a fish gliding beneath the surface of a stream. Once they had left the western part of the small town far behind, Chen Ping'an kept running and found a moment to quietly explain, "Back at Mud Bottle Alley, I tricked the old ape onto the roof of a ruined house, where he fell into a pit. After that, I secretly tossed a broken tile near the hole on the roof. Sure enough, the old ape thought I had carelessly exposed my position and smashed down, blowing apart not just the tile but the wall and roof too. Scared me half to death."
"I was actually crouched on the roof the whole time, didn't dare make a sound. I didn't want to distract you—and I was hoping for a chance to strike him with an arrow. Then I saw the stone he hurled at you, hanging in the air like a serpent of fire. I figured everyone in town would've seen it if they looked up, so I didn't dare take it lightly. My mind took a turn—I thought, if I were the ape, I'd definitely use you as bait. Hit the one hiding first, then take care of the one out in the open. Two fish on one hook, perfect, right? So I took off Liu Xiangyang's robe, threw it out, then dared to go and save you."
Ning Yao's eyes lit up, clicking her tongue in wonder, then suddenly narrowed as she gave him a sidelong glance. "Chen Ping'an, where did you learn to be so scheming? You always act so upright—don't tell me it's all an act. Tell me! That time Daoist Lu saved me at your ancestral home in Mud Bottle Alley—when I took off my veil, did you take advantage of the situation?"
Chen Ping'an looked utterly baffled, as if he'd been slapped in the face by a cow's tail. "Huh?"
The girl didn't press the charge any further and instead chuckled to herself. Chen Ping'an might be obsessed with money, but he was no lecher—of that, Ning Yao had never doubted, just as she had never wavered in her conviction that she would one day become a mighty sword immortal. Not one among a few, but the one and only.
"Put me down," she said quietly.
"You can walk now?" Chen Ping'an asked.
"Not yet," she replied helplessly, "but if you keep running like this, I'm going to cough up my liver. If I don't die from the ape's punch, I'll end up dangling from your shoulder like a slab of pork—probably scare the ape to death from laughter."
Chen Ping'an slowed his pace, frowning. "What should we do, then? Find a place nearby to hide? I was planning to get out of town—there's a place I know that's hard to find."
Ning Yao suddenly remembered something. "Where's that wooden-porcelain armor you made? Why aren't you wearing it?"
Chen Ping'an gave a wry smile. "It's useless against the old ape and only slows me down. I took it off. Good thing I did too—otherwise I wouldn't even be able to carry you. Couldn't shoulder you, couldn't back-carry, couldn't even hold you in my arms—just thinking about it gives me a headache."
Ning Yao sighed and made up her mind. "Chen Ping'an, put me down. Then carry me on your back to that place you mentioned."
Without a word of protest, Chen Ping'an did exactly as told, lifting her onto his back and setting off once more. "Miss Ning, where's your sword? Why do you only have the scabbard?"
The girl, arms looped around his neck, snapped, "Buried it."
Chen Ping'an didn't press further and continued running toward a secluded spot outside town. The wilderness was strewn with ancient, untended graves, overgrown with wild weeds that looked more like vegetable patches. Every so often, the eerie cry of a night owl pierced the silence, chilling the air. But to Chen Ping'an, the place stirred no fear—only a strange, nostalgic warmth that others his age would never feel.
After roughly the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, Chen Ping'an, still carrying Ning Yao, wound his way past shattered stone deities and arrived behind a massive collapsed idol. The clay statue had toppled face-down, its head long gone. Stretching more than twenty feet in length, it must have once sat in stately grandeur within a shrine or temple, radiating a fearsome majesty.
Chen Ping'an crouched down to lower Ning Yao gently, but when she didn't respond, a jolt of panic struck him—was she dead? Stunned into silence, his mind went blank. Just as fear gripped him like lightning, the girl stirred and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Are we there?" she murmured drowsily.
At that moment, the boy crouching on the ground felt something inexplicable stir within him—his eyes nearly welled with tears.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself calm and gently released her legs. Turning with a smile, he said, "I built a small shelter here last autumn, just a makeshift hut. I used to bring Gu Can here to play. He kept fussing about making something, so I helped him chop branches with a machete, then we laid leaves and grass on top. It turned out surprisingly sturdy—survived two heavy snowfalls last winter without collapsing."
Ning Yao straightened up and glanced back. Her flying sword hadn't yet returned in disarray—a good sign, at least suggesting that the old ape hadn't guessed their hiding place. Chen Ping'an asked her to wait a moment while he slipped into the hut and tidied up before opening the door for her.
She stepped inside the modest space, relieved to find it not as cramped as she feared. Chen Ping'an didn't shut the coarse wooden door but sat at the entrance with his back to her.
"Why not close the door?" she asked.
"If the old ape finds us, it won't matter," he replied.
She nodded. "Fair enough."
After a short silence, she asked, "Aren't you curious about anything?"
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment, then asked, "Did the old ape use up three breaths of energy?"
Ning Yao nodded. "Yes, but here's the bad news—he can still break the rules at least once more. With the two of us already injured, it's more than enough to finish the job."
Chen Ping'an asked again, "How much of his lifespan do you think he's sacrificed for all this?"
The little hut was filled with the scent of wild grass, clean and invigorating. Though the ground was a bit damp, Ning Yao had no complaints.
She pondered. "The first time, from your home in Mud Bottle Alley to the western edge of town, he held back—probably just a test to see if you had any backing. He was afraid someone from Zhengyang Mountain was plotting against him, so he only shaved off three to five years. The second time, by the creek against me—about twenty years. The third time? At least fifty. If he does it a fourth time, it'll cost him no less than a hundred."
Chen Ping'an's eyes gleamed. He bent down, plucked a blade of grass, shook off the dirt, and chewed it thoughtfully. "Even if it's a hundred and eighty years, I'd say we came out ahead! Forget that woman from Yunxia Mountain framing me—most people only live sixty years. That means I've earned three lifetimes. And think about it—the old ape trades nearly two hundred years of lifespan just to take down a kid like me? If he survives this, he'll probably die of rage anyway."