"I heard the young master of the Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect ran away, and Miaojiang is in chaos."
"Why would he run away when he had such a good life as a young master?"
"How would I know? Anyway, it has nothing to do with us common folk."
……
Chu'he was awakened by the voices outside. Opening her eyes, she stared blankly at the wooden ceiling of the carriage, unable to tell whether she was alive or dead.
The wheels rolled over a stone, jolting the carriage.
Her head bumped against the ceiling, and the sharp pain instantly grounded her in reality.
Pushing herself up, she looked around—it was a modestly sized carriage. Glancing down, she saw she was now dressed in clean clothes.
A soft pink ruqun adorned her frame, the upper garment embroidered with silver-threaded lotus vines, its collar slightly open to reveal her slender neck. The flowing skirt draped like drifting clouds, embroidered with butterflies that seemed ready to take flight.
Having lived the life of a pampered young lady, she could tell at a glance that these clothes weren’t cheap.
Had she transmigrated again?
Chu'he touched her face—clean, without a trace of grime.
She rummaged through a pile of nearby belongings and found a bronze mirror.
Hastily lifting it, she examined her reflection.
Skin like snow, delicate features, and a faint dimple at the corner of her lips.
It was still her face.
Then, something suddenly came back to her.
"Ninth!"
As she pushed open the carriage door, a soft chime of bells echoed in her ears. A breeze brushed past, and strands of snow-white hair grazed her cheek.
"What is it?"
The clouds parted, revealing the moon, its cold light spilling over the branches and illuminating the red-clad youth sitting alone at the front of the carriage.
His hair was white as snow, a few strands braided into small plaits, the rest tied into a high ponytail with a red ribbon. The wind toyed with the ends of his hair and the white-feathered ruby earring dangling from his left ear.
His attire, distinctly different from that of the Central Plains, was adorned with silver ornaments—especially the belt cinching his slender waist, embellished with silver feather pendants. Even without wind, the slightest movement sent the silver trinkets chiming softly.
Chu'he froze for a moment. "Ninth?"
The red-clad, white-haired youth leaned forward, a few loose strands cascading over his shoulders. His red hair ribbon traced the wind’s path in the night, and his smiling face radiated warmth and innocence. The occasional tinkling of silver sounded light and cheerful.
"What, did you forget me after a nap?"
Chu'he blinked, leaning back slightly to sit upright. She was dazed for a long moment before recalling the earlier horrors. She lunged forward, grabbing his hands to inspect them.
Aside from his skin being cold, everything else seemed perfectly human.
The youth bent one knee, grinning. "Do you need to check this too?"
A silver anklet swayed, catching the moonlight’s glow. Paired with his guileless smile, the chilly night suddenly felt alive.
Chu'he was still stunned. "You… put yourself back together?"
"Mm, I put myself back together."
"How did you do it?!"
"Like this." A small wooden figurine appeared in his hand—more like a voodoo doll from legends than a mere puppet.
He snapped off the doll’s arm, then twisted it back into place.
Waving the reattached limb at her, he said, "See? Fixed."
Chu'he stared at the doll, then at him.
Ninth chuckled and placed the doll in her hands. "For you to play with."
At the same time, a small green snake slithered out from his collar, flicking its tongue at her as if in greeting.
Chu'he finally relaxed, clutching the doll as she exhaled deeply. "I thought we were done for."
Ninth propped his chin on one hand, watching her with amusement.
Chu'he glanced up again.
She was used to him with disheveled hair, clad in that blood-stained robe like some ragged king of trash. Seeing him now—neatly dressed, exuding exotic charm—felt oddly unfamiliar.
The carriage stopped, and someone brought food.
"It’s late, so we’ll rest here tonight. The conditions are humble, and we only have simple fare. Please don’t mind."
Chu'he looked around and realized there were about a dozen men with several cargo-laden wagons. Only the carriage she was in seemed comfortable.
The man delivering the food was overly cautious, his deference bordering on fear—clearly terrified of Ninth.
Yet Ninth was all smiles, disarmingly friendly as he accepted the food with polite thanks.
The man wiped sweat from his brow and hurried back to his companions, who had lit a fire and set up tents.
Chu'he scooted closer to Ninth. "Who are they?"
"A trade caravan heading from Miaojiang to the Central Plains." Ninth handed her a flatbread and a waterskin.
Parched, Chu'he gulped down several mouthfuls before her throat felt better. The dry bread looked unappetizing, but it beat the stale buns she’d grown sick of.
Noticing the little green snake on Ninth’s shoulder eyeing her, she broke off a piece and offered it.
The snake sniffed, then swallowed the morsel in one bite.
Chu'he took a bite herself and asked, "How did we escape?"
Ninth stroked the snake’s head, answering casually, "We fought our way out."
Chu'he simply nodded, letting the matter drop.
But after a while, curiosity got the better of her. "Who changed my clothes?"
Ninth gave her a long, silent look.
Just as her expression began to crack, he pointed. "She did."
Behind one of the wagons stood a middle-aged woman, likely the caravan’s cook, boiling water.
Chu'he exhaled in quiet relief.
Ninth smirked. "Disappointed it wasn’t me?"
Her survival instincts kicked in. "No, I was sighing in regret that it wasn’t you."
Ninth smiled. "Next time, then."
Let’s hope there isn’t a next time.
Chu'he tugged her collar higher. "Did the caravan provide these clothes?"
Ninth nodded.
"They must’ve cost a fortune. Where’d you get the money?"
"Money?" The youth blinked his pretty eyes. "They didn’t ask for any."
"No money?"
"Nope. They knelt and begged me to take the clothes for you. They were crying so pitifully that I accepted on your behalf."
Chu'he: "…"
This caravan regularly traveled between the Central Plains and Miaojiang. Running into Ninth on their return trip was just their rotten luck.
The merchant leader, returning from relieving himself, saw his men’s fire and rushed to stamp it out.
"Rumors say bandits roam these parts! Lighting a fire is like inviting them to rob us! Put it out, now!"
The men scrambled to douse the flames—but it was already too late.
The sound of galloping horses drew near, and in no time, numerous figures wielding broadswords had surrounded the merchant caravan.
The members of the caravan huddled together, trembling with fear.
The caravan leader, keeping his composure, first bowed respectfully before speaking, "We apologize for disturbing you, valiant warriors. It was our mistake. We’re willing to offer tea money as a gesture of goodwill, treating it as a way to befriend you. We’ll leave promptly—how does that sound?"
The bandit leader chuckled. "You’ve got some sense, I’ll give you that. But with so many brothers here, tea money won’t cut it. We’ll need a proper feast—fine wine, good meat, the works."
If they didn’t hand over everything they had, their lives would be the only thing left to lose.
The caravan leader’s face darkened. Surrendering all their earnings would mean a year’s labor gone to waste.
But life was worth more than money.
The bandits weren’t in a hurry. They knew these people needed time to agonize over the choice—leave the money, or leave both money and lives behind.
Meanwhile, the bandit leader’s eyes roamed the scene.
Among the caravan was a woman, but she was past her prime—hardly of any value.
His gaze then landed on a carriage not far away, where a Miaojiang youth in red robes and white hair lounged like a bewitching mountain spirit in the night, impossible to overlook.
The bandit leader startled, half-convinced he’d encountered a seductive ghost.
But the Miaojiang youth showed no interest in interfering, merely leaning against the carriage door, idly toying with a green snake in his hand, not even lifting his eyelids.
Rumors said the Miaojiang people were enigmatic, but they usually preferred to stay out of the conflicts of the Central Plains.
The bandit leader exhaled in quiet relief—until his sharp eyes caught sight of a pair of jade-white hands clinging to the youth’s arm. Those hands were like tender willow shoots in spring, slender and supple, fingertips smooth as fine cream.
Experience told him that whoever hid behind that youth was undoubtedly a beauty.
The bandit leader subtly urged his horse closer, and gradually, the girl concealed behind the youth revealed her face. His eyes flashed with awe.
Her skin was like ice and jade, radiant and captivating.
Chu'he sensed the probing stare and instinctively tightened her grip on Ninth’s arm.
For bandits, murder, arson, robbery, and abduction were all part of the job.
"Well, well, look what we’ve got here—a hidden beauty!"
Another bandit rode up—a one-eyed man—eager to charge forward, but the leader blocked him with an outstretched arm.
"Big brother?"
The leader shot a wary glance at the youth. "That’s a Miaojiang man. If he’s from the Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect, he’s not someone to mess with."
At the mention of the sect, the one-eyed man shuddered.
"But… but a beauty like that… if we deliver her to—"
The bandit leader hissed, "Enough. We can plan this carefully later."
If not for his caution, he wouldn’t have risen to lead this gang.
The one-eyed man still couldn’t resist stealing another glance—and in that instant, his eye suddenly swelled with blood vessels, bulging grotesquely before, with a scream, it burst from its socket.
From the gory hollow, countless centipedes crawled out, swiftly covering his face.
No one saw when or how it happened, but in mere moments, his eyes had become a nest for hatching larvae.
The now-eyeless man toppled from his horse, writhing and howling as he clutched his face.
The others recoiled in horror.
The bandit leader whipped his head toward the youth, fear and fury warring in his voice. "Young master, we’ve no quarrel with you! Why resort to such cruelty?"
Ninth twirled a strand of his braided hair around his finger, his tone eerily calm. "You’re being too loud."
The fallen man had gone still, his body now a feast for the swarming insects. Flesh and blood dissolved into a mangled mess within seconds.
The bandit leader’s hands trembled on the reins. "If we’ve offended you, we apolo—"
"I said," Ninth cut in, "you’re too loud."
Screams erupted instantly.
One by one, bandits collapsed from their horses, clawing desperately at their skin as if something writhed beneath it. Their frantic fingers tore through their own flesh, yet found nothing.
The bandit leader spun his horse to flee—only for the stench of rotting flesh to hit his nostrils. Trembling, he looked down to see the skin on his hands decaying.
And in that moment of distraction, his weakened neck gave way.
His head thudded to the ground.
"AHHH—!!!"
The caravan members shrieked, huddling tighter together.
Chu'he bit back her own scream, afraid of irritating Ninth’s ears.
She slowly loosened her grip on his arm, inching backward.
But then his crimson eyes locked onto hers, silent and piercing.
Some instinct warned Chu'he that retreating now would be unwise.
Ninth suddenly shifted, offering his other arm with a smile, his eyes crinkling sweetly.
"If you’re bored of that one, here’s another for you to hug."
The cutesy phrasing made her skin crawl.
Chu'he forced a smile and stiffly reached out, clutching the proffered arm.
The rapidly decomposing corpses still littered the ground, the night air thick with their stench.
She buried her face against his chest, muttering weakly, "Next time… could you use gentler methods?"
Ninth glanced down at the crown of her head, his white strands mingling with her dark hair.
He poked her scalp with a finger, feigning innocence. "Scared?"
"No," Chu'he mumbled into his chest. "Just… a bit eye-searing."
Ninth pondered the phrase before grinning. "Alright. Next time, I won’t sear your eyes."
