But his voice was immediately swallowed by an even more furious torrent of abuse. A straw sandal reeking of pig offal smacked against his back with a sharp crack, making him jerk in pain. Then a stone struck his forehead, and blood ran down his entire face. Even so, he did not move an inch.
Zhan Haoting slowly came to, his dark eyes fixed on him.
Zhan Haochen forced a smile more painful than tears. “Brother, you’re awake.”
He hurriedly wiped his face with his sleeve. “It’s nothing, Brother. I’m tough—I’m fine. We’ll be out of the city soon. It’ll be all right in a little while…”
Before he could finish, half a hard flatbread bearing a bite mark struck him in the eye. He merely blinked hard and continued shielding the prison cart with his body.
That stretch of road seemed extraordinarily long.
By the time they passed through the city gates, everyone was covered in filth and stank unbearably.
When Zhan Haochen climbed down from the prison cart, he could no longer stand.
The guards opened the cart as well and dragged Zhan Haoting out, tossing him onto the ground like a rag doll.
Cheng Yao demanded angrily, “What are you doing?”
“This cart can only transport prisoners this far. From here on, he has to walk the rest of the way himself.”
The guards drove the cart away.
The entire Zhan family felt a chill in their hearts. Every bone in Zhan Haoting’s body was broken—he could not even move a finger. How was he supposed to walk?
“It’s all right, Brother. I’ll carry you.” Gritting his teeth, Zhan Haochen crouched down and hoisted Zhan Haoting onto his back.
Second Madam Zhan muttered, “What good will that do? Whether he dies sooner or later, what difference does it make?”
The road into exile was long and arduous, and the conditions were brutal. It was only one step removed from a death sentence; even a healthy person might not survive it. And now he was carrying a cripple as well?
Within two days, he would be crippled too.
Cheng Yao said, “By Second Madam’s reasoning, most of us will probably die on the road anyway. Why take this pointless journey? We might as well stay here and wait for death.”
“You!” Second Madam Zhan was enraged. “I’m your elder, at least. If you dare defy and talk back to me again, I’ll tear that foul mouth of yours apart.”
“As an elder, you should act like one,” Cheng Yao replied fearlessly. “With the entire clan trapped in hardship, an elder should support and encourage the younger generation, not mock and suppress them.”
“What do you mean—”
“That’s enough. All of you, shut up.” One of the guards cracked his whip, the sharp sound splitting the air. “Make another peep, and don’t blame me for showing no mercy.”
No one dared speak again. They continued on in silence.
The wheels of the prison cart rolled over the road with a creaking, groaning lament, gradually carrying them farther and farther from the city gates.
Everyone kept looking back, searching for the familiar faces of their loved ones in the crowd—or simply taking a few final glances at the place where they had been born and raised.
Zhan Qingrou bit her lip and held back her sobs, but her tears fell like beads from a broken string, striking her collar one after another.
Second Master Zhan smoothed his hair. His long robe was covered in dust, and he tried to straighten his back. But the contemptuous looks from the escorting soldiers reminded him of their current plight, and his shoulders slumped once more.
The children clutched their mothers’ clothes tightly. They did not yet understand what “exile” meant. They only knew that they were going somewhere very far away.
The wind whipped at their thin clothes. He shivered and looked up at his mother. “When can we go home?”
All he received in reply was the sound of her stifled sobs.
No matter how reluctant they were, this road had to be walked to its end.
From this day onward, across mountains and rivers, they would likely never be able to return.
Farewell forever.
Once they passed through the city gates, many people broke into loud sobs.
The escorts could not be bothered to rebuke them. They simply kept urging the group onward.
“Brother, don’t worry. We’ll be able to rest soon.”
Zhan Haochen panted, his voice steady only through sheer force of will. His steps had already begun to falter.
Cheng Yao’s heart ached for him. He was only half-grown, still so young. In another era, he would still be acting spoiled with his elders. Yet now he had to carry his older brother on his back as they were sent into exile, taking one step at a time. What a cruel test of his character and endurance.
Just as she was considering whether to give him a drop of spirit spring water as well to restore his strength, she suddenly caught a flash of cold light behind a withered tree by the roadside!
“Watch out! Assassins!”
Cheng Yao was still some distance away and could only shout a warning.
Zhan Haochen’s pupils contracted sharply. Instinctively, he twisted aside, shielding his brother behind him—
A short blade plunged straight into his shoulder blade, blood instantly soaking through his coarse prison garb.
“Assassins!” the escorting constables shouted as they drew their swords and charged forward.
Zhan Haochen gave a muffled groan and clutched his brother more tightly to his back, staggering toward a dirt slope at the side of the road.
“Brother, don’t look back...” His voice trembled. The jolting movement sent waves of agony through his wound. Hearing movement behind him, he used every ounce of strength to shift his brother to his left side.
The assassin’s second blade sank into his back with a dull sound of steel tearing through flesh.
At the same time, the twang of a bowstring rang out in the distance!
“Watch out!” Zhan Haochen roared, desperately trying to move his eldest brother in front of him, but the arrow flew too fast—
An arrow drove straight into Zhan Haoting’s back, its feathered shaft still quivering violently.
Zhan Haoting let out a muffled groan. Warm blood soaked Zhan Haochen’s back.
Zhan Haochen’s eyes widened in horror. His hands supporting his brother tightened abruptly, and his voice broke. “Brother! Brother!” He wanted to turn around to inspect the wound, but Zhan Haoting whispered weakly into his ear, “Forget about me... Run...”
Seeing that the strike had landed, the assassin drew his bow again.
With bloodshot eyes, Zhan Haochen ignored the searing pain in his shoulder and back. Dropping to one knee, he shielded his brother beneath him, placing his own back directly in the line of fire. His hoarse voice was filled with desperate ferocity.
“If you want to kill him, kill me first!”
Zhan Haoting opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, but blood surged up his throat and choked off his words. He coughed heavily twice, then fainted.
“Brother!”
Zhan Haochen was desperate. Cheng Yao pulled a sword from her storage space and tossed it to him.
“Take it.”
He caught it and charged at the assassin, looking ready to fight to the death.
Cheng Yao shouted, “Go! Kill that scum and avenge your brother!”
Her words were like oil poured onto flames. Already consumed by hatred, the young man felt as though his very blood were burning. His strength surged severalfold, forcing the assassin back again and again.
Meanwhile, Cheng Yao secretly flicked out several silver needles. The assassins were struck, and in an instant, they fell into a disadvantage.
A quarter of an hour later, all the assassins had been killed, and the constables began clearing the battlefield.
Cheng Yao frowned. Not a single assassin had been left alive—some of these constables must have been in league with them!
“Ting’er! Ting’er!”
Seeing Lady Zhan about to throw herself onto Zhan Haoting, Cheng Yao hurriedly grabbed her. “Mother, calm down. Haoting’s been shot by an arrow. If you climb on top of him, you’ll only worsen his injuries.”
Lady Zhan was completely beside herself, weeping uncontrollably.
Zhan Qingrou, meanwhile, cursed Cheng Yao for being cold-blooded. “You never wanted to marry my brother in the first place. Now that he’s become a vegetable, you’re happy, aren’t you? Satisfied?”
Cheng Yao’s expression darkened at once. “Did you eat crap? Why is your mouth so foul? What do you mean, ‘a vegetable’? How can you curse your own brother like that? He’s your actual brother!”
“I…” Tears welled up in Zhan Qingrou’s eyes. She crouched down and began sobbing.
