As the carriage left the city, it encountered Bian Yu galloping past with four constables.
The hooves of the speeding horses churned up clouds of dust. Bian Yu carried a long spear on his back, its blood-red tassel whipping in the wind, the spearhead flashing a cold glint under the blazing sun.
Zhong Shi drove the carriage closely behind and exited the city. When they arrived at the foot of Fuling Mountain, they saw Zhao Er already leading a search.
Yun Lou lifted the carriage curtain and greeted him. Zhao Er said, "Constable Bian has gone up the mountain to look. Madam Pei, you should turn back. If mountain bandits really did take Miss Cui, it's dangerous for you to remain here."
The delicate young woman’s face was full of worry. "I know I can't help, so I'll just go to Baoling Temple to pray for Lingyi."
Zhao Er knew she was close to Miss Cui, so he could only instruct Zhong Shi: "Protect your mistress well."
Zhong Shi nodded, and the carriage headed toward the temple in the mountains.
The day was clear and crisp, and quite a few people had come to burn incense and pray. Yun Lou searched the temple, asked the young monks, the abbot, and passing worshippers, but no one had seen Cui Lingyi.
Before long, Bian Yu brought his men over as well. His face was as dark as water—clearly he had found nothing.
Yun Lou walked over and asked, "Constable Bian, have you found any clues?"
Bian Yu said, "We only found the horse she rode out of the city this morning, halfway up the mountain."
"Were there any signs of a struggle nearby?"
"No." Bian Yu seemed unwilling to waste more time with her. "Madam Pei, you should head down the mountain now."
With that, he turned and strode away. Being a martial artist with keen hearing, he caught her speaking anxiously to Zhong Shi: "I'm going to the meditation room to copy sutras and pray for Lingyi. Stand guard outside and don't disturb me."
The meditation room in the east wing was usually reserved for honored guests—quiet and secluded. Yun Lou thanked the monk who led her there, instructed Zhong Shi not to disturb her, saying she would stay copying sutras and praying until dawn, then closed the door.
Zhong Shi was a man of simple, honest character. If his mistress told him to guard a door, he would guard it until the end.
Inside the meditation room, Yun Lou swiftly pulled the hairpins and pearl ornaments from her hair. The flowing cloud bun that Yin Yin had combed for her that morning came loose, and she gathered it up and tied it high on her head with a hair band.
She had already dressed lightly for the outing in the hills. Yun Lou tore off her cloak, using it to bind her leggings and sleeves, and wrapped the remaining cloth around her broad blade, strapping it across her back.
A brisk wind blew through the window, and a shadow slipped out of it like a ghost, vanishing silently into the trees and breeze.
A killer is best at concealing tracks—and by the same token, best at finding them.
The thick forest on the mountain provided excellent cover. Yun Lou quickly located the spot where Bian Yu said the horse had been found.
The horse had already been led away, but fresh droppings and signs of trampling were scattered about. Bian Yu had searched nearby and found nothing.
Yun Lou hooked her feet around a tree trunk, using the strength of her waist and abdomen to slide swiftly down the rough bark, stopping abruptly just before hitting the ground.
Her long hair, tied high above her head, swung downward. She grabbed the tail of it between her teeth and hung suspended at low altitude, carefully combing through the ground with both hands for traces. She didn't want to leave any footprints here, so this was the only way.
After about a quarter of an hour, Yun Lou spotted a hairpin in a ditch overgrown with summer weeds.
She had seen Cui Lingyi wear this very hairpin.
The spot was already a hundred feet from where the horse had been found. She brushed aside a layer of fallen leaves and saw trampled tracks hidden underneath. The mountain was thick with layers upon layers of fallen leaves, making it hard to spot signs that someone had deliberately concealed.
Yun Lou followed the footprints, tracking them step by step. At first the culprits had tried to cover their trail—had she not been experienced, she would certainly have missed it. But the farther she went, the more obvious the tracks became; clearly they had grown bold once they reached the deep mountain.
Fuling Mountain was not large, standing across from the hundred-mile-long Bei Wu Mountain, with a stretch of reeds between them.
Yun Lou followed the trail down from the back of the mountain until she arrived at the edge of the reed marsh.
Her silhouette, slender and lithe, carried the broad blade on her back; the cloth binding at her waist showed off a lean, powerful frame. She squinted, gazing into the mist-shrouded peaks across the way.
So it really was Bei Wu Mountain.
The rabbit rose and the sun sank; light and shadow shifted. Night was about to fall.
And night had always been the domain of the nocturnal wanderer.
-
When Cui Lingyi woke, she found herself stuffed in a burlap sack, her hands and feet bound tightly, a strip of cloth gagging her mouth. Someone was carrying her at a rapid pace, a hard shoulder pressed against her stomach, jolting her up and down with every step.
Recalling that morning's events, she resigned herself and stopped struggling.
That morning, she had only wanted to catch up to the carriage and demand an explanation. But when she closed in, she saw the panicked yet vicious look on the two men driving it and immediately sensed something was wrong.
She remembered hearing her father and Bian Yu mention recently that young men and women had been going missing. She whipped the reins to flick open the carriage curtain, and the moment it lifted, she saw a bound young girl lying inside.
When the two men realized they had been found out, they lunged at her and bound her along with the girl.
For the first time, Cui Lingyi regretted her playful laziness, having never trained hard in martial arts—otherwise she would not have fallen into such danger.
The surroundings were deathly quiet, broken only by the sound of the two men's urgent breathing and their steps crunching over dead branches and leaves.
Occasionally, a few eerie, hollow bird calls echoed through the air.
This is it... everything is over...
She had probably fallen into the hands of the Bei Wu Mountain bandits.
Even the imperial Dragon Cavalry couldn't do anything about these bandits—who could she possibly expect to save her? Realizing her miserable fate, Cui Lingyi was overcome with grief and burst into tears.
Her tears soaked the burlap sack. Not long after, two strange bird calls rang out around her, and the man carrying her made the same calls in response.
Cui Lingyi knew—they had reached the bandits' den.
She closed her eyes in despair and tried her best to make no sound.
Rustling noises gradually rose around her, and soon someone shouted, "Why are you back so late today?"
A gruff voice answered, "Ran into a little trouble on the way." He patted the sack on his shoulder. "So I grabbed one extra. She's a bit older, but better looking than all the ones before."
Cui Lingyi silently cursed as tears streamed down her face: You're the old one! Your whole family's old! You rotten old dog—she's only nineteen!
The quiet mountain was quickly drowned out by raucous voices and commotion. Cui Lingyi tried to catch pieces of conversation, but her mind was a buzzing mess—she couldn't hear a thing.
Soon, she was thrown, sack and all, into a pile of straw.
A bang echoed as someone locked the door.
They didn't even untie her.
Cui Lingyi struggled a little, wriggling against the straw pile to try to stand, but the sack was tied tightly shut—she couldn't even straighten up, only crawl around half-crouched.
She strained her eyes to see what was outside, but through the sack she could only make out a faint hint of light. No matter how she twisted, she couldn't free her hands tied behind her back.
Finally, exhausted, she collapsed and sobbed into the burlap.
Where was this place? What did they want with her? Why had they just dumped her here and left?
What about the girl who had been captured with her? Hadn't many people gone missing? Were they all here? Would her father come to save her? Surely Bian Yu would come, right?
Cui Lingyi's mind raced with frantic thoughts as hours slipped by. She felt as though all her tears had run dry. Thirsty, hungry, and utterly exhausted, she dared not let herself pass out.
She strained to listen for any sound outside, until nightfall came and torchlight seeped through the cracks. The tightly shut door finally opened.
She immediately held her breath and went still. Soon, someone loosened the rope around the sack, and she was roughly dragged out.
A man with a scarred face stared at her. Seeing her tear-streaked face and swollen eyes, he let out a laugh and pulled the cloth from her mouth.
"Behave yourself. Have some water. Don't go dying on us here."
With that, he picked up a chipped porcelain bowl, roughly pinched her chin, and forced water into her mouth.
Cui Lingyi couldn't swallow fast enough—water spilled all over her, soaking her snow-white neck and dampening the collar of her clothes.
The man's sticky, revolting gaze roamed over her, and Cui Lingyi's face went white with fear. She stammered, "Elder brother... might I ask—what place is this? Why did you capture me? Are you after a ransom?"
The man said nothing, but reached out with a thick, calloused hand to touch her damp face. Cui Lingyi trembled all over; swallowing her disgust and terror, she forced a smile. "Brother, even if I'm to die, at least let me die knowing what's going on?"
The man chuckled. "Die? How could that be? We're sending you to live a good life." His lecherous gaze licked at her like a serpent's tongue. "Pretty face you've got, though the age isn't quite right."
He suddenly said, "Well, we're not short one more. How about you just stay?"
Cui Lingyi didn't dare speak.
Someone outside called out "Lai San," and the man answered, then shoved her back into the sack. The door locked again, and Cui Lingyi heard Lai San's voice: "This one's the wrong age. How about we keep her for the boys to have fun with?"
The man who'd called him said, "Best report to the Second Chief first."
Cui Lingyi was utterly despairing.
She curled up in the sack, her mind growing hazier and hazier. She didn't know how long she'd been in a dazed sleep when she suddenly felt someone untying the sack's drawstring.
Cui Lingyi snapped awake. She could no longer hear the bandits' raucous noise outside. The night had grown deep, with only the crackling of torches breaking the silence.
The top of the sack loosened, and it was pulled away. Cui Lingyi braced herself for the lecherous Lai San, ready to hurl herself at him with all her strength—but instead, a pair of long, powerful hands clamped over her mouth.
She heard a whisper so low it was almost a breath: "Shh—"
Cui Lingyi caught sight of the person by the faint torchlight from beyond the door. A slender, tall figure, hair tied high in a ponytail, wrapped in a crudely bundled coarse-cloth garment, a black cloth covering their face, and a long blade wrapped in bloodstained fabric strapped to their back. In one swift motion, the rescuer cut through the ropes binding her.
Before she could speak, her savior helped her to her feet and led her straight out. Cui Lingyi was stunned—this was far too brazen! But the moment they stepped out the door, she saw seven or eight dead bodies already sprawled across the yard.
This was only a remote courtyard on the hillside; there weren't many guards. After they left, faint voices drifted from the nearby distance on the wind.
Her rescuer wrapped an arm around her waist, and with a flick of the feet, vaulted over the courtyard wall, speeding toward the mountain forest.
Cui Lingyi clung tightly to the great warrior's waist, terrified of falling. But as she held on, she noticed how slim that waist was—slim yet strong. Nice to hold, really.
Soon, though, she had no mind for waist-holding.
The silent night forest was shattered by the clamor of voices. She looked back and saw torches snaking through the darkness like a blazing dragon, drawing closer, accompanied by the barking of hounds and the pounding of horse hooves.
The bandits had discovered her escape and were now pouring out in full force after them. There were so many of them, their torches lighting up the forest in a blaze, with trained hounds tracking by scent. No matter how skilled the warrior was, carrying her—a burden—they'd be caught before long.
Cui Lingyi's tears came again. "Great warrior, why don't you put me down and go on ahead? I'll run myself. If I make it, it's my luck. If not, then so be it."
The warrior said nothing, only scanned the area, then hoisted her up onto a tall, straight tree that pierced the canopy.
Cui Lingyi was set down on a thick, leafy branch that was perfect for hiding. When she saw the warrior pull the long blade from their back and grip it, clearly planning to turn back around, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around their waist from behind.
"Xiao Lou! Don't you dare go back!"
Yun Lou froze, almost dropping the blade.
No way—she'd covered herself up completely and even stripped a bandit's clothes to wear as a disguise. How on earth had she recognized her?!
Sensing that the warrior was stunned, Cui Lingyi laughed through her tears. "The fragrance you're wearing—it's the one I made for you! I blended it myself. I smelled it the instant you came close!"
Yun Lou was speechless.
What a slip-up!
But this was hardly the time to chat. Now that she'd been recognized, Yun Lou spoke directly: "Hide here. I'll be back before you know it."
Cui Lingyi wouldn't let go. "No! There are too many of them—how can you fight them all? Listen to me: leave me here, go down the mountain and fetch my father for help. I'll stay hidden in this tree; they won't find me!"
Yun Lou tugged the black cloth higher over her face. "Stay put."
She gripped the blade and stared into the torches drawing near through the woods: "If I haven't slaughtered them all within half an hour, consider me useless."
