The Sun Mansion, which had stood immovable as a mountain less than an hour ago, had by now been thrown into utter chaos.
The ring of metal on metal and the whistle of arrows cleaving the air were incessant. At intervals, a few stray arrows flew into the courtyard, sending the fleeing family members and servants into screaming, wailing panic.
The cavalry guards had been dispatched long ago, though whether they were fighting Tiancheng’s army, had been killed, or had simply fled for their own lives, no one could say — not a single one of them was anywhere to be seen.
The Sun Family, which had never known anything but inflicting hardship on others, had never imagined that one day such hardship would fall upon their own heads.
Sun Taishou ran out of the underground cell, looked left and right, and made straight for the back courtyard.
He had long anticipated this day would come. His most valuable possessions had already been packed and ready to go; he needed only to grab them and flee for his life. As long as he had gold, it didn’t matter whether he fell into the hands of Tiancheng or the Bai Family — he refused to believe there would be no way to survive.
However, Sun Taishou, who had been far removed from the sight of weapons and fighting for years, had clearly underestimated how brutal a battlefield could be. Even the short distance from the back courtyard to the back gate was agonizing to traverse. The western wall of the Sun Mansion hadn’t been built high enough, and stray arrows flew in at irregular intervals.
Relying on his familiarity with the layout, he dodged and weaved his way through, and had just exhaled in relief when he suddenly sensed someone standing behind him.
He spun around on instinct, swinging wildly — but his fist found nothing but air, not even a scrap of clothing to grasp.
He opened his mouth to call for help, but the cry died in his throat the moment he saw the person’s face.
Resplendent violet robes — it was Yanfu.
“So it’s Senior Official Yan — Tiancheng’s army has come, quickly come with me and we’ll—”
Yanfu’s expression remained unchanged, as though the sounds of fighting and killing all around had nothing whatsoever to do with him. He produced that sheepskin scroll again and pointed to the place for a signature and seal.
“Today is already the second day. Has Lord Sun sobered up?”
The veins at Sun Taishou’s temples were pulsing. This blockheaded fool — at a moment like this, still thinking about getting him to sign some worthless agreement.
If not for the unfathomable martial skill of the man before him, he truly would have kicked him aside and trampled over him.
Taking a deep breath, Sun Taishou internally repeated the word: patience.
“If Senior Official Yan is willing to get me out of here alive, I will offer all the sentry posts in the Sanmu Pass region to Lord Bai with both hands.”
Yanfu’s brow furrowed faintly: “Lord Bai gave me no instructions about escorting anyone.”
“If you refuse, I will certainly not sign and seal.”
“Then I will simply take the blank sheepskin scroll back.”
In desperation, Sun Taishou blurted out: “If you won’t save my life, I’ll sign an agreement with the Tiancheng people and cede the entire Sanmu Pass region to them!”
Those words seemed to freeze the other man in place like a spell. After a long moment, the young man slowly turned his head.
“What did you say?”
“I said, I will make an agreement with the Tiancheng—”
Sun Taishou never finished that sentence. Because halfway through it, his head was no longer attached to his neck.
Yanfu returned the sword in his hand to its scabbard at an unhurried pace. Not a drop of blood had touched the blade.
He looked down with a slight frown, seemingly troubled, at the headless remains on the ground. After a moment’s thought, he crouched down, took Sun Taishou’s still-warm fingers, dipped them in the thick blood seeping across the ground, and pressed a fingerprint onto the sheepskin scroll.
Having done all this, a look of satisfaction spread across his face. He put away the scroll and, as though utterly alone, leaped out of the Sun Mansion and was gone.
---
When Xiao Nanhui stumbled and lurched her way out of the underground cell, the sounds of fighting outside had already diminished considerably. But the sensation of the ground having trembled just moments ago still lingered over this stretch of land, and an unease permeated the air all around.
Whoever had stirred up the chaos seemed to have already withdrawn from the Sun Mansion’s courtyard. All along her path she saw nothing but corpses on the ground, and barely a single living person.
In the underground cell, she had not been mistaken — the guard had indeed shouted the name of Tiancheng’s army.
Strange. Why would Tiancheng’s people be so hasty?
Did they already know that Bijiang was reaching for the territory around Sanmu Pass?
Her role as an advance spy had been somewhat of a failure. The information hadn’t even been sent out yet, and other people already knew.
Who had come? Could it be Xiao Zhun?
Could Xiao Zhun have come — to save her?
Xiao Nanhui’s heart began to pound — pound — pound. She couldn’t tell whether it was from blood loss or from agitation. Even knowing it was almost impossible for Xiao Zhun to appear here, she still let that small, humble hope rouse her body back into motion.
The flat-bow spear scraped against the ground with a grating sound as she used it as a crutch. She forced herself not to look at the white bone protruding from her own ankles, simply fixed her eyes on the direction of the exit, and dragged herself forward with all her remaining strength.
Occasional stray arrows flew past. She didn’t even bother dodging them, treating each near-miss as luck of the draw, pushing through until she finally reached the vicinity of the Gobi desert.
From here the road split in two. The right fork was the way she had come — travel it for an hour or so and she would be back at Sanmu Pass. The left fork led deeper into Bijiang. She didn’t know what lay at the end of that road, nor whether she would be able to follow it back.
Her mouth had gone completely dry, yet cold sweat poured even faster.
The choice grew harder and harder to make. Her mind grew murkier and murkier. She could only hope that when she looked back on this day, she would have no regrets.
Of course, that assumed there would be a day to look back from.
Xiao Nanhui turned her body to the side and moved with great difficulty toward the left fork.
She had taken only three steps before she regretted it.
From behind a cluster of boulders ahead, a figure emerged and removed the cloth covering his face. It was Ke Sang, the caravan leader from before.
“Woman — we meet again.”
Xiao Nanhui raised one hand and waved it half-heartedly: “What a pleasure. Sun Taishou is still in the back — if you go now, you should still be in time.”