Murong Jin kicked off the tree trunk, flipping backward in mid-air. Her sword struck downward, aiming straight for the black-clad figure's crown.
The death point.
But the assassin reacted instantly. He raised his arm, the short blade blocking the strike. Clang. The impact sent Murong Jin flying back. She slammed into a tree, her insides churning. She swallowed the blood rising in her throat.
Strong internal energy. She scanned the darkness. The night was her ally.
She reached behind her back, gripping the soft rope coiled at her waist. If she could just snag a branch, she could lose him in the trees.
"Save your strength," a cold voice said. A woman. "The moment you throw that rope, my blade will cut it. And your throat."
The assassin raised her arm. Moonlight glinted off the blade, promising blood.
Murong Jin stared. How did she know?
"Curious?" The woman's laughter pierced the night, shaking the forest.
Murong Jin took a deep breath, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Indeed."
"An honor to have the famous General Murong curious about me."
"You will find it an even greater honor to die by my sword." A voice, cold as ice, drifted from the depths of the forest.
The assassin stiffened. She flipped backward, retreating into the air. Thud-thud-thud. Three leaves embedded themselves deep into the tree trunk where she had just stood.
Who is it? Murong Jin gripped her sword. An ally? Or just another hunter after the bounty?
The wind whipped the leaves, obscuring the moonlight. The hidden master did not show himself. But his presence was enough. The assassin stood twenty paces away, watching Murong Jin, but daring not to move. To attack meant exposing her back to the forest.
"Who's there?" she called out.
Only the wind answered.
"Hiding like a turtle? Come out and fight!"
"Turtles live a long time. Sounds like a good life to me," the voice answered, laced with amusement.
Murong Jin's heart skipped a beat. That voice. That lazy, familiar tone. The voice she heard every day, the voice that soothed her nightmares.
"What's good about being a turtle? Why not be a bird that sings once and startles the world?" she called back, smiling.
The assassin whirled around, realizing her mistake. Murong Jin had help. Powerful help.
Without a word, she leaped onto a branch, ready to flee.
But a figure burst from the forest, a blur of motion chasing her into the night. The wind died. They were gone.
Murong Jin slid down the tree trunk, collapsing onto the ground.
"Cough." She finally spat out the blood she had been holding back. She wiped her mouth with a silk handkerchief, then forced herself to stand.
She had to move. If Xue Liulan was here, she had to run. She focused on one thought: Reach Wuchuan. Father is waiting.
But her body was broken. Half an hour later, she leaned against a tree, gasping. Dawn was breaking, the mist thickening.
It never rains but it pours. She stumbled forward. If she remembered correctly, this path led out of the forest.
A shadow moved in the mist. Indistinct, but radiating killing intent.
Her vision darkened. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Is this the limit? She slid down the tree, her head resting against the bark.
Xue Liulan. I want to see you.
Xue Liulan. I don't want to see you.
She murmured his name, her consciousness fading.
The shadow approached, merging with the mist. The killer raised his blade. An easy bounty.
Clang.
The blade was blocked. The killer jumped back, dodging a low kick. Murong Jin was up, one hand on the tree, the other holding her sword in a defensive stance. It was her last reserve of strength.
"Worthy of a general. Feigning weakness," the killer laughed, his voice booming. Yi Mo. The Dead One.
She couldn't speak. If she did, her weakness would be exposed.
"Since the trick is spoiled, shall we dance?" Yi Mo stepped forward, listening for her reaction.
She swallowed the blood in her mouth. She couldn't hear him, but she knew he was waiting.
"What kind of skill is it to fight a woman?"
A figure emerged from the mist behind her. One hand behind his back, the other holding a thin sword.
"Xue… Liulan." She whispered. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Her strength left her, and she fell.
He caught her. "We'll settle this later." He wiped the blood from her lips, his brow furrowed.
The mist swirled. Yi Mo attacked.
Xue Liulan spun, shielding Murong Jin with his body. His sword thrust out, unerringly finding Yi Mo's chest.
"You aren't the only one who can hear a man breathe." He smiled, pulling his sword free and stepping back to avoid the blood spray.
"You…" Yi Mo collapsed, disbelief in his eyes. He had honed his hearing for ten years. He could hear a mosquito's wings. How could it not be enough?
"Your hearing is good. But compared to Gongzi Suyi of Yin, you are far behind." Xue Liulan smiled lazily. "I learned a thing or two from him. You didn't lose to me. You lost to him."
Yi Mo died before he could finish. The strike had been Chengyan Valley's signature move, delivered with full force.
"Murong Jin!" Xue Liulan realized the woman in his arms was limp. He checked her pulse. Just exhaustion. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
In her dream, she felt warmth. She leaned into it, nuzzling against the softness.
Xue Liulan watched her sleep. He pulled the cloak tighter around her and stoked the fire.
Even in sleep, her lips were pale, her brow furrowed as if in a nightmare. He reached out, smoothing the lines on her forehead.
"Mm." She swatted his hand away, mumbling.
He chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. Her breath still smelled faintly of blood.
"Murong Jin, you are endless trouble," he whispered. But what could he do? A casual marriage had turned into this. He loved this stubborn woman.
"Xue Liulan," she murmured in her sleep.
"Mm?" He answered instinctively, then smiled at his own foolishness.
After a long silence, she whimpered, "Please. Please let me ride free."