On the side blocked by the painted boat, Xie Zhu’s family had already climbed down along ropes, transferring to a safe small boat below. Behind them was another faintly visible small boat—that one was prepared for Nanyi.
Song Muchuan had considered everything thoroughly. To help her make a clean break from the Xie family, naturally he couldn’t let her travel with Xie Zhu.
Nanyi climbed out through the window, but she didn’t immediately climb down the rope. Gripping the railing, she barely managed to steady her footing on the boat’s wooden wedge—she suddenly remembered something she had to clarify before leaving.
“Master Song, when we first met and you told me about ‘Yushu,’ which two characters were those?”
He paused, then answered honestly: “Yu meaning ‘to give,’ and shu meaning ‘to forgive.'”
Nanyi had learned these two characters—she knew how to write them and understood their meaning. Only now did she comprehend why Xie Queshan had reacted so violently when he heard that Song had chosen the courtesy name “Yushu” for himself.
At the moment of departure, she still inevitably thought of Xie Queshan. The fear was real, but after such a long time together, he had left vivid and profound marks in her life.
“Master Song, could you… not hate him so much?”
Song Muchuan hadn’t expected Nanyi to say such things to him and was immediately stunned.
“He didn’t want Master Pang to die either. He may be someone who has done bad things, but he’s not a bad person.”
She didn’t hate Xie Queshan that much. It was just that she was too afraid—always living on edge around him. She desperately wanted to go somewhere she could breathe freely. She yearned for the clear streams Song Muchuan spoke of, and also wanted to find her beloved Zhang Yuehui.
Song Muchuan nodded deeply: “Madam, I’ll remember that.”
“Until we meet again.”
Only then did Nanyi climb down the rope with peace of mind, landing steadily on the small boat below.
Standing on the boat’s gunwale, she looked up at that enormous painted boat. Even with the lights dimming, she could still make out his figure.
In the night, she waved vigorously at that figure.
The river current was swift, and the small boat drifted downstream, soon distancing itself from the painted boat.
All this commotion was finally leaving her behind. Nanyi sighed in relief and turned to enter the boat’s cabin, when her entire body suddenly trembled violently.
—In the small boat sat a person, appearing from who knows when.
He sat quietly in the darkness. By the faint light scattered from the distant shore, she saw an unlit octagonal palace lantern placed beside his hand. He seemed to have been soaked in darkness for a long time, like an evil spirit crawling out from hell—no amount of light could reach his side.
Song Muchuan had said that once in Jinling, it would be impossible for him to find you.
But they hadn’t calculated that he would intercept her at the source.
She was like a thief caught red-handed.
River wind swept by, causing her to shiver uncontrollably.
On this small boat, on this river surface swallowed by night, no one knew that the Xie family’s young madam was here, nor would anyone care that a beggar named Nanyi was here.
A dark and windy night perfect for murder.
She was covered in darkness, and within that darkness, countless invisible tentacles called despair grasped at her.
She dared not move, dared not speak, letting the river wind cut across her face while her mind went completely blank. Xie Queshan also remained silent. After a long time, when the small boat had already traveled far from Li Du Mansion, he pulled out a fire starter from his sleeve and lit the flower lantern.
This bit of light filled the entire boat cabin.
This brand-new flower lantern, with its bells, tassels, and even the gauze of the lampshade—all chosen by her. She actually felt guilty.
“I told you not to betray me,” he was utterly calm, with gentle light gathering on his face, his expression even appearing mild. “Nanyi.”
She rarely heard him call her name like this. She knew very clearly that those profound eyes contained crushing fury.
She moved closer, her teeth chattering uncontrollably with trembling. But she understood that the moment requiring complete honesty had finally arrived. Thoughts she had never dared voice before—now she could only lay them bare.
“You also said you would let me go. I don’t want to keep playing in this game anymore.”
She knelt down, crouching beside him. She firmly remembered that he didn’t allow her to kneel, but she also knew her place. She was always carefully seeking ways to interact with him.
Always pulling and testing—it was exhausting. She simply wanted to leave.
He raised his hand to grasp her chin, letting the tears that fell from her eyes drip onto his tiger’s mouth. Bit by bit, with extreme patience, he used his fingertips to brush away her tears.
“But you don’t trust me, and instead sought Song Muchuan’s help… The sky is high and roads are far—there will always be times when Song Muchuan can’t look after you. What’s wrong with staying by my side?” His tone contained no hint of murderous intent, as if he were very seriously and confusedly discussing a perplexing problem with her.
She couldn’t speak, only shaking her head desperately.
“You want to drift in this world again, living day by day without knowing what tomorrow brings. Isn’t what I’ve given you enough?”
“But I’m afraid of you,” her expression showed fear, but her voice didn’t retreat. She boldly spoke all the words in her heart. “I’m just a small person. I don’t want to be drawn into such complex conflicts… I just want to live simply with three meals a day. Why… why can’t you let me go?”
He seemed struck silent, left speechless.
He had never hoped for anyone’s understanding, but in the past days, he had gradually opened his heart to her. He thought there was a tacit understanding between them. Yet she still regarded him as an enemy.
Only at this moment did he realize that he hoped to travel alongside someone—no, alongside her. People always felt disappointment because of hope. If he had never grown close to her from the beginning, he wouldn’t be in pain now.
The pain was so intense he wanted everything to be destroyed. What did the world’s chaos have to do with him?
He even had an impulse to reveal his true identity to her, to make her treat him with the same respect and trust she showed Song Muchuan, to let them fight side by side.
But as soon as this thought emerged, reason instantly returned. They had only known each other for a few months—how could he trust her? He had taught her many things, yet she remained a little deceiver, proving this fact time and again.
His palm slowly moved to her neck, the burning palm pressed against her skin, making her hair stand on end.
A slender neck, fragile yet beautiful.
His impression of her was always influenced by that grimy beggar appearance. He subconsciously tried to ignore her beauty, but as she shed those tattered clothes and received three meals a day, that skeletal frame gradually filled out. Day by day, radiance bloomed on her face. The only thing that remained unchanged was those eyes brimming with watery light.