Xue Liulan's hand froze on Murong Jin's back. He stared down at her, peacefully asleep in his arms.
"Murong Jin," he whispered, a sad smile on his lips. "Is being with me truly such a cage for you?"
When night fell again, Murong Jin woke.
She stared at the ruined temple walls, confused. She had been in the forest.
"Xue Liulan!" The name escaped her lips before she could stop it. In her hazy dream, she had felt him there.
Only her echo answered. She stood in the doorway, her shadow stretching long in the moonlight.
She walked back inside and sat by a pillar, hugging her knees, staring at the dying fire. She knew she hadn't lit it.
She remembered a voice. Lazy, gentle, laced with a hint of helplessness.
Nearby, hidden in a tree, Xue Liulan watched her. The firelight flickered on her face, revealing a profound loneliness that made his heart ache.
Is it loneliness, or a place in your heart you won't let anyone enter? He gave a self-mocking laugh. Murong Jin, even when you sleep in my arms, you dream of leaving.
At dawn, Murong Jin kicked out the fire and continued toward Wuchuan.
Before leaving, she turned back to the empty temple.
"Benefactor!" she shouted into the trees. "I don't know who you are, but thank you for saving me. Thank you for the warmth."
She listened. Silence.
"Thank you." She bowed deeply to the forest, then turned and strode away.
Xue Liulan waited until she was gone before jumping down from his perch. His body ached.
"Haven't been in the jianghu for too long," he muttered, stretching.
Suddenly, he stopped. He smiled. "Come out. I'm tired, and you must be too. Let's finish this so I can go back to sleep."
Twelve figures dropped from the trees, surrounding him. They wore masks painted with fierce fangs and held curved scimitars that glinted coldly in the morning light.
"Even the masters of the Western Regions are here. Murong Jin's head really is valuable." He grinned, but worry flickered in his eyes.
Guo Shangzhong knew he had left the palace. If these masters were here to stop him, what was waiting for her ahead?
He had to end this quickly. Not to sleep, but to catch up to her.
The twelve men didn't speak. They began to circle him, their formation tight, seamless.
A snake constricting its prey.
Xue Liulan's smile faded. This formation was relentless. If he attacked one, the others would cut him to pieces.
The circle tightened. The blades were inches from his robes. They didn't strike. A battle of wills.
He took a breath. If he panicked, he died. And if he died, she died.
"You want to change the dynasty's master? You're not enough." He sneered. His sword flashed.
He leaped, soaring straight up like an eagle piercing the sky.
The twelve men struck simultaneously, their blades slashing inward where his legs had been a moment before.
But he twisted in mid-air, diving headfirst, his sword aiming for the exact center of their converging blades.
Clang. Steel met steel. Using the rebound, he flipped, slashing horizontally.
He used a heavy sword technique with a light blade. Against their heavy scimitars, it should have snapped.
But it didn't. The scimitars shattered.
He landed, kicking the broken shards into the chest of the nearest man.
He moved like a leopard, a blur of lethal grace. Their formation, their greatest strength, became their weakness.
In the blink of an eye, twelve men lay groaning on the ground. Xue Liulan had a two-inch gash on his left arm.
"A waste of a good formation," he muttered, tearing a strip from his robe to bind the wound. He didn't look back as he vanished into the forest.
Murong Jin, please be safe.
Murong Jin was resting in a farmhouse. She had run into the girl she saved at the gate.
"Benefactor, please, have some tea." The girl offered a cup, stealing shy glances at Murong Jin's handsome male disguise.
Murong Jin hid a wry smile behind the cup. If I stood next to the romantic Prince Xue, who would the girls choose?
Xue Liulan. His name filled her mind. From their first meeting to the dream of his embrace last night. She sighed and set the tea down.
"Is the tea not to your liking, benefactor?" The girl asked timidly.
"No, it's fine. I was just… remembering something."
"Are you married, sir?" The girl's father asked with a smile.
Murong Jin coughed. "Yes. Recently."
"Oh." The old man nodded slowly.
"Father, I'll go buy some better tea," the girl said, pulling a hairpin from her hair. "This is worth something."
"No need." Murong Jin stopped her. "This tea is good." To prove it, she drank a sip.
The girl smiled at her father. "Then keep our guest company. I'll cook."
"Alright." The old man looked at Murong Jin. "My wife died early. I just have this one daughter. She's of age to marry."
"Oh." Murong Jin's chest felt tight. Did I push myself too hard yesterday?
"You don't look well, sir." The old man reached out to steady her.
She shook her head. Her vision blurred. Darkness crept in at the edges. The old man's hand dissolved into shadow.
"What's happening?" She stumbled back, knocking over her stool. "I…"
"Are you blind yet?" The girl's voice rang out behind her, sharp and mocking.
Poison.
She drew her sword. "Who are you?"
"The one who kills you," the girl laughed. "I missed you the other night. I won't miss today."
The other night? "It was you!"
"Yes. Someone interfered then. I thought Yi Mo or the Twelve Tortoises would get the bounty. Hah! Useless, all of them."
A knife thrust, silent and deadly.
"Murong Jin! Back three steps!" Xue Liulan's voice shouted in her ear.
She obeyed instantly, retreating three steps.
"Turn left! Strike! Three inches to the rear!"
She followed the voice blindly, her sword flashing, keeping the two assassins at bay.
"Who's there? Show yourself!" The old man roared, stabbing his judge's pen toward the source of the voice.