Ninth bent down, tenderly wiping the sweat from Chu'he's brow while teasing her with a playful tone, "Ah, Chu'he, you're so weak, yet you ran in such a hurry. Tired now, aren't you?"
Chu'he shot him a glare. "It's all because you were too slow!"
He had been utterly lackadaisical—first insisting on showing her wildflowers by the roadside, then proposing they stargaze together. If they’d indulged in those distractions, the situation here might have already escalated into mutual destruction!
Sang Duo’s eyes darted shrewdly as she grabbed Cang Yan, preparing to slip away again.
Chu'he cried out in alarm, "Wait! Don’t you dare run off again!"
Ninth snapped his fingers, and suddenly, hundreds of glowing green eyes materialized around them—beastly eyes brimming with greed and malice, as if starved for far too long and desperate for a feast.
Sang Duo shuddered and ducked behind Cang Yan.
Finally, Hunter Ma arrived, his body heavy with exhaustion. His eyes lit up at the sight of Li Furong. "Young Miss, are you alright?"
Li Furong took a step back. "Who are you?"
Hunter Ma quickly composed himself, masking his earlier emotion. "Over a decade ago, I met you on this very mountain. You’d gotten separated from your brother and lost your way—I was the one who pointed you toward the right path."
It was a distant memory from her childhood, one that had grown hazy over time. But at Hunter Ma’s words, the recollection sharpened in her mind.
"It’s you!" Li Furong exclaimed, stepping out from behind Fang Songhe in delight. "I remember now! There was a kind uncle who showed me the way down the mountain!"
Hunter Ma’s eyes softened with warmth. "In the blink of an eye, you’ve grown so much, Young Miss."
Li Furong smiled. "I never got to thank you properly. Thanks to you, my brother found me!"
Something in her words seemed to stir the puppet, causing it to take two steps toward her.
"Cang Yan!" Sang Duo quickly yanked him back, shooting him a warning glance not to act recklessly.
Hunter Ma suddenly stiffened. "What did you call him?"
Sang Duo bristled. "What I call him is none of your business!"
"Cang Yan… Your name is Cang Yan!" Hunter Ma’s voice trembled with excitement. All fear of the Miaojiang people forgotten, he rushed forward, scrutinizing Cang Yan from head to toe. "The resemblance… So obvious. I should have realized sooner. I should have known!"
His shock and joy were barely contained.
Sang Duo pulled Cang Yan behind her, muttering, "Rambling like a madman."
Fang Songhe glanced between Li Furong and Cang Yan before cutting straight to the point. "This young master Cang Yan—could he be the sole survivor of the Cang family massacre fifteen years ago?"
Hunter Ma froze. He seemed on the verge of speaking, but his gaze flicked to the indifferent Miaojiang youth nearby. Panicked, he shook his head. "No, he’s not. The Cang family was wiped out—no one survived!"
His frantic denial only made his nervousness more obvious.
Ninth scoffed, unimpressed by the man’s flimsy lies.
"The Cang family?" Li Furong frowned. "What’s this about?"
Chu'he cut in bluntly, "Hunter Ma, you’re already being hunted by malevolent forces. We got to you first to protect the secret you’re guarding. Clearly, someone is still searching for any Cang family survivors. Cooperate with us, and the person you’re trying to shield will have better protection. Besides…"
She darted over to Fang Songhe, throwing her arms out dramatically. "This is the legendary Fang Songhe, the great hero Fang! Even if you don’t trust us, surely you trust him!"
Fang Songhe cleared his throat awkwardly, clasping his sword with an air of righteousness.
Li Furong narrowed her eyes at his profile, struck by an odd sense of familiarity.
At the mention of Fang Songhe’s name, Hunter Ma’s resolve visibly wavered. But when his gaze returned to the Miaojiang youth, he clamped his mouth shut again, refusing to say more.
Chu'he skipped back to Ninth’s side, launching into an even more exaggerated introduction. "And this is Ninth—a man of both literary and martial prowess, virtuous and wise, kind-hearted, brilliant, generous, and selfless! Oh, and he used to be a village doctor too!"
The string of accolades far surpassed Fang Songhe’s single "legendary" title. Ninth arched a brow, visibly pleased.
Chu'he continued, "Though Ninth is Miaojiang, he’s nothing like the others. His character is so outstanding that he and the great hero Fang became sworn brothers!"
"Hunter Ma, even if you don’t trust Ninth, surely you’d trust the sworn brother of the legendary Fang Songhe!"
Fang Songhe coughed again, standing even straighter.
Ninth smirked. "Heh."
Fang Songhe’s reputation was impeccable—to many, he was the very embodiment of justice.
Li Furong’s frown deepened as she studied the young man’s figure, an inkling of recognition nagging at her. She circled behind him, scrutinizing his silhouette up and down.
Then, in a flash of realization, her eyes widened.
Hunter Ma looked between Fang Songhe and Ninth.
Chu'he hooked her pinky around Ninth’s, giving it a gentle shake before flashing him a radiant smile.
Ninth’s irritation melted away. He turned his face aside with a soft "hmph." "If I truly wanted answers, I have a hundred ways to force them out of you."
The fact that he hadn’t resorted to such methods was proof enough of his "goodwill."
After a long hesitation, Hunter Ma finally spoke. "Fifteen years ago, the Cang family was annihilated. When my friend Da Niu and I returned, we found only a sea of flames. Remembering the master’s kindness in taking us in when we had nowhere else to go, we rushed in to save whoever we could. But everyone inside was already dead."
The corpses were gruesome—flesh torn, bones gnawed, their features unrecognizable.
Trembling with horror, they found only the unconscious young miss at the bottom of a dry well in the backyard.
The killer’s methods were beyond comprehension.
Knowing they were no match, and fearing the young miss would be hunted down if her survival was discovered, they fled with her from the northern borderlands all the way to the south.
Two men and a child made for an easy target, so they split up—Da Niu lured the pursuers while Hunter Ma hid with the girl.
Sang Duo glanced at Cang Yan. "What happened next? Where did the child go?"
Hunter Ma’s voice grew somber. "I took the young miss to an abandoned temple. One day, she fell gravely ill with fever. While I was out searching for medicine, I returned to find…"
Chu'he leaned in. "Found what?"
Hunter Ma gritted his teeth. "A young master from a wealthy family had picked up the unconscious girl. He took her home, summoned a physician, and soon after, rumors spread in the household—the master had sired a daughter with an outsider years ago. Just like that, the family gained a young miss, and the boy gained a sister."
He’d kept watch in secret. The family was kind—the master treated the girl as his own, and the brother doted on her endlessly.
With such an identity, the girl would undoubtedly be safer than if she were constantly hiding with him, so he completely concealed himself, silently watching over her.
Li Furong was in the middle of eating melon when she suddenly felt everyone’s eyes on her. A suspicion flickered in her heart, but she instinctively refused to believe it.
“Why are you all looking at me? Just listen to the story!”
Fang Songhe spoke up, “Young Master Cang Yan has a red birthmark shaped like a plum blossom.”
Li Furong subconsciously raised her hand to cover the back of her neck. When she looked at the puppet named Cang Yan, even when their eyes met, its gaze was hollow—it had no consciousness and was not truly alive.
An unprecedented wave of panic overwhelmed her, a sense of helplessness gnawing at her limbs until her entire body trembled.
“That’s impossible… You’re making this up! I don’t believe you!”
Li Furong wiped her eyes, turned around, and stumbled away in a frantic escape.
Chu’he stepped forward, “Li Pimple!”
Fang Songhe said, “She’s just had a shocking revelation—it’s hard for her to accept right now. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”
It was already the third watch of the night, the darkness thick and heavy.
Li Furong’s mind was in turmoil. She even wondered if this was all a scheme by that Chu’he girl, still holding a grudge over their childhood hair-pulling fight where she’d called her brother for help. Maybe Chu’he and her friends had fabricated this whole story to trick her.
She refused to believe any nonsense about her family being slaughtered.
And she absolutely wouldn’t accept that her brother was some kind of walking corpse!
But this desperate denial lost all credibility the moment Fang Songhe mentioned the birthmark on Cang Yan’s body.
If… if what they said was true, did that mean everything she had now was a lie?
Li Furong didn’t dare go home, yet in her dazed state, she found herself standing in front of the Li residence when she heard someone calling her name.
“Young Miss, where have you been?” A maid rushed over, tears streaming down her face. “The master took people out to search for you—we were all worried sick!”
The Li estate was brightly lit, everyone holding lanterns, making such a grand effort just to find one Li Furong.
“Is that Shuangshuang back?”
Li Huaijin leaned against the doorframe as he stepped out, the picture of an elegant young master—though his frail figure seemed as if a gust of wind could carry him away.
Li Furong stood outside the gate, her eyes red, too afraid to approach.
She was covered in dirt, not a single clean spot on her. Her delicate, pretty face bore a few scratches, and she hadn’t even noticed she’d lost one of her embroidered shoes along the way.
Li Huaijin’s gaze softened with concern. “Shuangshuang, what’s wrong?”
Snapping out of her daze, Li Furong wiped her eyes and rushed forward, extending her bruised hands to present a small white flower—one she hadn’t let go of even when she’d fainted.
“Brother, this is the Tideflower, the cure-all! I found it!”
She forced a bright smile, though the redness at the corners of her eyes betrayed her. In a quieter moment, those proud tears might have fallen.
Li Huaijin’s eyes flickered. After a pause, he took her hand and led her inside. “Come, tell me what foolish thing you’ve done this time.”
Not far away, Fang Songhe stood behind a tree, holding a dirty embroidered shoe he’d picked up, rubbing his temples in exasperation.
Then, as if sensing something, he looked up.
The gate had already closed, and the feeling of being watched had vanished without a trace.
The path down the mountain was harder than the climb up.
Ninth carried someone effortlessly on his back.
Chu’he clutched a strand of dogtail grass, resting her chin on the young man’s shoulder with a sigh. “I wonder if Li Pimple will ever come to terms with the truth.”
Ninth replied casually, “Why wouldn’t she?”
“Imagine suddenly learning you’re not blood-related to your family, that your real relatives were nearly wiped out, and the only one left alive suffered while you lived carefree for over a decade. How could anyone accept that so easily?”
Ninth lacked any real understanding of familial bonds. He only half-grasped her meaning. “If you don’t want her to be sad, I can help.”
Chu’he blinked. “How?”
“I’ll gather her parents’ bones and assemble them into a bone puppet. Easy to dismantle, very convenient.”
Chu’he: “…Let’s not.”
She really shouldn’t discuss serious matters with him—his ideas were never reliable.
