Lena Sanders left the main courtyard and walked straight to the room where Darren Chang was resting.
Jack Golden had just returned with freshly sliced red ginseng. Seeing Lena enter, he quickly presented her with a large box filled with the fragrant slices.
"Boss, look—so many pieces! This ginseng smells incredible. You should have one too."
Lena picked up a slice and placed it between her lips, then handed a bright red envelope to Darren.
"This is one hundred thousand taels of silver. Keep it safe."
Turning to Jack, she continued, "In the next few days, go into town, buy a carriage. We'll rest for a bit, then head to Castleton."
Jack blinked in surprise. "What about Prince Heir and the others—?"
Meeting Lena's gaze, he faltered and swallowed the rest of his words.
"We've been paid. The job's done. I'll go get the carriage. Boss, when we reach Castleton, are we staying or just passing through? What kind of carriage do you want?"
"We'll stay for a while. If we can settle there, we'll make it home," Lena sighed softly.
For that deal worth a hundred thousand taels, they had become wanted criminals in the Southlands. Their foundation in Riverford City had long been razed to the ground by the Wu Army. Now, Northrealm was the only refuge left.
"Got it. I'll head to town now!" Jack placed the ginseng box before Darren, then bounded out of the room.
Lena sank into the armchair by the window, her gaze distant as it lingered on the lush ginkgo trees outside.
She never thought she would see him again.
A sharp ache surged within her. She closed her eyes and drew in a long, trembling breath.
She had wronged him.
Her mother, her siblings, her kin, her friends—they had all wronged her. But he—he was the only one she had wronged. From beginning to end, he had never betrayed her. It was she who deceived him, failed him, and left him with nothing but lies.
Tilting her head back, Lena swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat.
"Bo—"
Harris Ma burst through the door but, catching Darren's raised hand, swallowed his words mid-sentence. Seeing Lena lost in thought, he tiptoed inside, holding his breath.
The boss was thinking.
After a long silence, Lena rose and stepped outside.
William Chen emerged from the main courtyard and saw her standing beneath a tree, hands clasped behind her back.
When she looked up to see him walking toward her, her heart ached—and yet, somehow, she felt lighter.
He wasn't him. He merely looked like him—so much so, it hurt.
But this man, unlike the one she once knew, could meet her eyes calmly, without that familiar nervous smile.
"Miss Li, were you waiting for me?"
Stopping a few paces away, William smiled faintly.
"Yes." Lena tilted her head slightly, her eyes fixed on him.
He held her gaze, smiling still, waiting for her to speak.
A sigh escaped her lips.
"You are not him."
"And who is he?" William asked quietly.
"A man from long ago—a friend who treated me with great kindness, who once saved my life. And I… I betrayed him. Just now, for a moment, I thought you were him."
Though her tone was steady, sorrow lingered beneath her words.
"And how are you so sure I'm not him?" he asked, an eyebrow arched.
"Are you?" Lena countered softly.
"I've never met you before, miss." William bowed slightly.
"I see. Then, until we meet again."
She stepped back, nodded politely, and turned away.
William watched her retreating figure, his brows lifting slightly before he too walked off.
Until we meet again. She intended to settle in Castleton, then.
As for that resemblance she spoke of—he doubted it, though her motives remained unclear. Still, since she was staying in Castleton, time would soon tell.
Gavin Shea and his formidable entourage had stayed at the post station for six days—and so had Lena and her companions.
Every day, it was the young servant Ruby who came to deliver messages.
Lena had not seen Gavin Shea, nor William Chen; they seemed endlessly occupied.
It was Ruby who informed her that Gavin Shea would depart for Castleton by late afternoon.
After lunch, Harris and Jack helped Darren into the carriage—a half-old freight wagon refitted to carry passengers, drawn by two sturdy blue mules.
The prince's men had combed through every trace of their journey—from the ambushed ship to the last inn—recovering their lost belongings: Darren's armor, his iron mace, and their baggage, now piled neatly in the wagon.
Once Darren was settled, Harris took the reins, Jack perched at the back, and Lena sat sideways atop the rail, facing the open road.
With a crack of the whip and a cheerful shout, the mules pulled them out of the post station.
"Boss," Jack called, swinging his legs, "once we reach Castleton, are we going back to our old trade?"
"The Prince said Castleton has over three hundred thousand households! That's a big market—way bigger than Riverford! Once Darren's better, shall we start again?"
Harris turned eagerly toward Lena, eyes bright with excitement.
"Have you been to Castleton?" she asked Jack.
He shook his head.
"You?" she asked Harris next.
He shook his head as well.
"I haven't either," Darren muttered, eyes half-closed. "No one here knows what it's like. Let's see it first, then decide."
Lena reached into her bag, pulled out a pouch of sunflower seeds, and began to crack them one by one.
Harris started humming an off-key tune, while Jack joined in with whistles and laughter.
The mules plodded lazily along for more than two hours before the scattered stalls and shops along the road began to form a town. In the distance, the towering walls of Castleton rose into view.
Suddenly, Harris leapt to his feet. "Hey! Look behind us!" Jack shouted from the back.
Lena turned—and saw a cloud of dust as a mounted troop galloped toward them.
Harris quickly pulled the mules aside.
In the midst of the riders was Gavin Shea. As he passed, he glanced at Lena—perched on the rail, lazily cracking seeds—and smiled faintly.
Harris watched the gallant procession thunder past, eyes shining with admiration.
"So majestic! So glorious! That's our Prince Heir, alright!"
"The sun's setting," Lena murmured, casting him a sidelong glance. "Let's get moving—you look ridiculous."
Jack picked up a pebble and tossed it at Harris's head. "Get a grip, you fool!"