The fire nearly robbed her of all sight; she could only crawl out by memory.
The thick smoke made breathing painfully difficult, but she dared not cough, nor dare she stop.
As the flames grew, the crackling of burning wood drowned out every subtle sound she made.
Back at the pile of bodies, A Wu's hands trembled uncontrollably, yet she moved with swift urgency.
She stripped off the clothes of the child on the cart, then removed the little prince's short tunic and outer robe, exchanging them between the two. Finally, she paused, and placed the little prince's longevity lock around the other child's neck.
She lifted the child down, then laid the little prince in the spot where the other child had lain.
Without a moment's rest, she heaved onto her back the small corpse now dressed in brocade, and once again risked the rush back into the fire.
Yet merely approaching the small opening, A Wu could already feel the wave of scalding heat rushing at her.
She gritted her teeth, wrapped her head in wet cloth, and plunged through—inside was an ocean of flames.
She dared not go deeper.
Just as she prepared to push the child's body into the blaze, a figure emerged through the blinding firelight—it was the Crown Princess.
Her court robes were scorched and tattered, her hair in disarray, with live flames creeping up the fabric. She walked with unbearable slowness, but step by agonizing step, she came forward.
Her eyes, reddened by the smoke, gleamed eerily bright in the firelight.
She saw A Wu. She saw the small body beside A Wu, dressed in her child's clothes, and understanding dawned in her gaze.
With the last shred of her strength, she snatched the child's corpse toward her and clutched it tightly to her chest.
"Go quickly..." Her voice was hoarse and broken, yet she offered A Wu the same gentle smile as always, "Thank you..."
The moment the words left her lips, she spun around and, holding the child in her arms, walked toward a beam already teetering overhead.
"CRASH—" With a tremendous roar, the fractured beam, wrapped in sparks, slammed down.
A searing wave of heat blasted outward.
A Wu watched helplessly as they were instantly swallowed by surging flames, merging completely with the ruins.
"Your Highness..." A Wu choked, sobbing. "I'll take the little prince away. May you rest in peace."
She didn't look back. She curled herself out of the opening and melted into the darkness beyond.
She swiftly returned to the corpse cart and lay back down in her original spot, pressing close to the little prince, her hand hidden beneath her sleeve gripping the child's wrist firmly.
After what seemed like an eternity, more bodies were piled beside her.
The heat of the flames seemed to spread—even here, she could feel an unnatural warmth, and her clothes had been half-dried by the heat.
Some time later, palace attendants began arriving with water tanks, one after another.
Amid the clamor, the wheels began to roll, and A Wu felt the jolting.
The corpse cart slowly rumbled out through the heavy palace gates, over the blue stone of the palace road, melting into the deep night of the capital.
The firelight and music from within the palace grew faint behind them, leaving only the rumbling creak of the wheels.
The road became rough and uneven; stones and axles collided constantly, making the cart jerk more violently.
They had left the city and entered the wilderness.
The cold autumn wind blew unimpeded now, howling through the mountain forest, sweeping over the cart and piercing through her half-damp clothes with bone-chilling sting.
In the distance, wild dogs seemed to howl.
A Wu lay in the icy pile of corpses, clutching the little prince beside her. The unconscious child lay quietly, that faint breath almost inaudible.
"Hurry up! Staying in this godforsaken place another minute is a curse on my life!" A soldier's curse exploded through the empty mountain air.
The cart lurched violently, then stopped.
They had arrived—the official crematorium.
Even with her heart already prepared, the sight before her through the gaps between the bodies made A Wu's heart clench tight.
They were in a remote mountain hollow. The massive incinerator loomed like a ferocious beast, its dark red furnace mouth casting flickering light and shadow against the cliff face.
The air was thick with the stench of burning flesh and fat.
Beside the furnace, bodies were tossed into a haphazard heap, waiting to be shoveled into the flames with iron forks.
Only two guards were stationed here, with a few others scattered nearby chatting idly, keeping their distance from the furnace—as if none of them wished to be near this assembly line of the dead.
The soldiers from the corpse cart curses as they roughly dragged the bodies off, and soon A Wu was dumped at the foot of that mound of corpses.
After emptying the cart, the soldiers quickly drove away.
A Wu held the child, curled up in the shadow cast by the pile, and waited in silence.
She watched discreetly. Beyond the body pile was a stack of firewood; farther still, a half-open wooden side gate. Beside the gate, a guard leaned against the doorframe with a spear in his arms, his head bobbing as he fought off sleep—and soon, he began to snore, slipping into slumber.
Time crawled by in fear.
She could hear the crackle of the furnace fire, the vague chatter of distant guards, and the heavy, slow pounding of her own heart in her chest.
"When will this batch finish burning?" The guard by the furnace finally yawned, unable to fight off his drowsiness.
"Not anytime soon! Just threw them in a moment ago—won't be until daybreak at the earliest."
Perhaps this was the final load of the night. The guards who had been loitering around the open area drifted away, leaving only these two on duty.
"Damn it, we're always stuck with these unlucky tasks!" one guard muttered as he walked off. "I'm gonna rest for a bit—I'll switch with you later."
With that, he headed toward a table and chairs set up at a distance, soon nodding off in his seat, and before long, slumped face-down onto the table.
After what felt like another long stretch, the guard left by the furnace scratched his neck in irritation, and muttered something foul under his breath: "Can't be that the dead are gonna rise." He glanced around, then headed toward a dark corner not far away, unbuckling his belt as he walked.
Now.
The instant the guard's back was turned, swallowed entirely by the shadows, A Wu moved.
She quickly unbound her own sash, then hoisted the unconscious child onto her back, winding the sash around herself twice and tying a tight knot. Then, she gently slipped off the soft-soled cloth shoes from her feet, pulled out the gold leaves tucked inside, and stuffed them into her bosom. She tucked the shoes into her sash.
She glanced once more at the corner—the guard was still whistling, not looking back.
Without a moment's hesitation, like a leopard waiting in the dark, she lunged out from the corpse pile with the child on her back, silent as a ghost.
Her feet were clad only in soft cloth socks, making her steps even quieter. She didn't take a direct path—first she crouched low and darted behind the woodpile, using it as cover, holding her breath, and watching carefully.
The side-gate guard's snoring remained steady, and the guard in the corner still hadn't turned around.
She arched her body again, testing each step with her toes, creeping toward the side gate.
Cold gravel and clumps of dirt cut into her soles, sending sharp pains through her feet, but they only sharpened her focus.
Her steps were light and agile—five steps to the gate... two steps...
As she passed the slumped, sleeping guard at the door, she could even smell the stale wine and sweat clinging to him.
She held her breath, gently lifting her foot to step over his outstretched leg.
Finally, she crossed the threshold.
She glanced back once more—no sign of movement.
Without hesitation, she quickened her pace, her steps light, and rushed forward, plunging headlong into the boundless darkness of the mountain forest beyond the door.
The icy mountain wind swept over her, carrying the scent of grass and trees. She dared not stop, barely dared to breathe deeply, stumbling deeper and deeper into the densest, most secluded part of the woods.
