WNST - 118

Traveling day and night, they soon arrived at a small county town on the border of Lido Prefecture. 

Zhang Yuehui became extremely cautious. 

Not just about their surroundings, but also about Nan Yi. 

From the moment they left Lido Prefecture, he was no longer a gambler. He had lost all his chips and was forced to retire. His carefree demeanor and detachment had vanished—he couldn’t afford to lose anymore. He had to treat every moment as if facing an imminent threat. 

He knew he had used a despicable method to snatch Nan Yi away and feared she might try to escape. So he kept her firmly by his side, never letting her out of his sight. 

If he had acted as shamelessly persistent as usual, it wouldn’t have been surprising. 

But instead, he silently focused on the journey, barely speaking to Nan Yi. 

Now that he had her, he began to avoid her. 

Perhaps this wasn’t even a carefully considered decision—it was simply a way he found to momentarily ease the pain amidst a dire situation. 

After that fleeting moment of relief, the true suffering would begin. 

They would stay overnight in this small county town, then split into three groups to confuse any pursuers. Under these circumstances, they couldn’t risk staying at an inn or tavern—they found an empty farmhouse and rested briefly. 

Even in such a cramped space, Zhang Yuehui remained glued to Nan Yi’s side.

“Are you going to follow me even to the outhouse?” Nan Yi turned back, half-amused and half-annoyed, glaring at Zhang Yuehui. 

Only then did his steps abruptly halt. 

“This place is unfamiliar. Don’t wander off,” Zhang Yuehui muttered, scratching his nose as his gaze guiltily dropped to his toes. 

The unspoken implication was clear: Don’t try to escape—you won’t get far.  

Nan Yi wanted to clarify something but ultimately fell silent. 

She was a person of her word. She knew the immense cost this deal had exacted from Zhang Yuehui, and she intended to repay his sacrifice. Having made her decision, she resolved to sever ties with her past completely. Yet she also understood how awkward their newfound relationship felt. 

He didn’t trust her—not fully—because he hadn’t claimed all of her. 

Nan Yi sighed. She didn’t want to argue with him. 

Silently, she turned and walked into the pitch-black alleyway. When she returned, she saw Zhang Yuehui waiting for her, holding a lantern. 

When he noticed her emerge, he said nothing, simply walking ahead slowly, ensuring the candlelight illuminated the path beneath her feet. 

A long, long time ago, they had lived in two thatched huts by the fields. The washroom was far from their small home, and every evening, they had to traverse a long, dark path to reach it. 

Each night, Zhang Yuehui would wait for her on the ridge of the field, lantern in hand. 

She would return with her hair still damp, droplets falling onto the muddy earth between the crops, nurturing the season’s bountiful growth. 

Then, year after year, the crops withered, the fields lay fallow. But people eventually returned, claiming the land would yield a ten-mile harvest come autumn. 

And so they began again—plowing, sowing, bustling about—even though deep down, they both knew the barren soil could no longer sprout green shoots. 

This was another sleepless night. 

They forced themselves to rest, knowing the days ahead would be filled with relentless travel. Even if they managed to evade pursuit, their bodies might not endure the strain. 

Yet Nan Yi was wide awake, countless memories flickering through her mind. 

How was Xie Queshan now? Was he safe? What exactly was the Nirvana Plan? Did Song Muchuan have any confidence it would succeed? 

Would she never see these people again in her lifetime? 

And what kind of future awaited her and Zhang Yuehui? 

Amidst her chaotic thoughts, she suddenly heard the creak of a door opening. Footsteps approached the bedside, and a faint but distinct smell of blood seeped into the air. 

In the darkness, Zhang Yuehui’s voice came urgently: 

“Come with me.” 

His tone carried an unusual urgency, and Nan Yi sensed something amiss. Quickly throwing on her clothes, she followed him. 

Zhang Yuehui led a horse from the backyard, and the two mounted it silently, slipping away unnoticed. 

Once they were a good distance outside the county town, Nan Yi finally spoke up. “What happened?” 

Zhang Yuehui’s voice was low and heavy. “There’s a traitor among my men. Someone wants to sell our whereabouts to the Qi people.” 

In that simple sentence, Nan Yi detected a profound sadness. 

The human heart was the most unpredictable thing—when the tree fell, the monkeys scattered. 

Even though Zhang Yuehui had chosen his most trusted shadow guards to escort them, some still believed he had lost his power and sought to align themselves with a new master. 

Or perhaps the traitor had been planted by Wanyan Pu all along. 

Zhang Yuehui was no longer the omnipotent, revered master of Gui Lai Tang, surrounded by followers. 

At this moment, Nan Yi truly grasped the reality of their flight. Things were spiraling out of control far faster than they had imagined. In this land, no one could remain unscathed. 

Suddenly, she fully understood Xie Queshan’s restraint. He had been using his very body to prevent every worst-case scenario from unfolding. 

None of them dared to claim there was a foolproof strategy amidst this chaos. 

Under the moonlight, the horse’s hooves trudged over rugged mountain paths, the late spring breeze carrying a lingering chill. 

Suddenly, a flock of birds burst from the forest, startling the quiet night. Zhang Yuehui had no time to rein in the horse before its legs were caught in tripwires hidden along the roadside. With a sharp neigh, the horse collapsed, throwing its riders to the ground. 

The slope was steep, and with no support to grab onto, they couldn’t stop their descent. The world spun wildly as Zhang Yuehui tightly shielded Nan Yi within his arms. 

Dust scraped against their faces, stinging their eyes shut. Then, with a dull thud, Zhang Yuehui’s entire body slammed into an ancient tree, finally halting their fall. 

Pain shot through his face, but he made no sound. Almost immediately, torchlight erupted above them as pursuers closed in. 

The traitorous guard led the Qi soldiers to the scene, but all they found was the trail left by rolling bodies in the sandy soil—no sign of the two trapped individuals. 

The flickering torchlight revealed a swift, turbulent river at the base of the slope. 

---

Zhang Yuehui and Nan Yi clung to a floating log, drifting downstream until they reached a secluded grove where they could climb ashore. 

Nan Yi had already pulled herself onto the bank, but Zhang Yuehui remained clinging to a rock, unable to haul himself up. 

Worried, Nan Yi dragged him onto the shore and immediately noticed his right leg bent at an unnatural angle. It must have been when they collided with the tree earlier—his leg had borne the force of both their weights and snapped. 

Yet he hadn’t uttered a single sound. 

Still, he tried to stand, but Nan Yi quickly stopped him. 

“Zhang Yuehui, don’t push yourself!” 

“I can walk,” he insisted, dragging his injured leg forward. No sooner had the words left his mouth than he stumbled forward, losing his balance entirely. 

He would never stand again. 

With no other choice, Nan Yi carried Zhang Yuehui to a nearby cave, settling him inside before heading out to gather some wooden planks. From her years of rough living, she knew immobilizing the leg was crucial to preventing further injury. 

Just as she prepared to leave, Zhang Yuehui suddenly grabbed her hand. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To find something to help treat your wound.” 

Zhang Yuehui’s grip tightened, his voice tinged with anxiety. “How long will you be gone?” 

Nan Yi grew impatient. How could she possibly know how long it would take? Did she need to report every move? She bit back her retort, realizing Zhang Yuehui had never been so insecure before.

He truly had nothing left. Though he had swaggeringly taken her away, his victorious posture lasted only a fleeting moment. In this predicament, she could abandon him and escape at any time. 

He was terrified, utterly lacking confidence that she would stay by his side without faltering. 

Nan Yi’s attitude softened slightly. She handed over the dagger hidden in her sleeve to Zhang Yuehui, then removed the ring from his thumb—the one capable of launching concealed weapons. By exchanging these tools, she hoped to reassure him. 

“I won’t go far. Even if I don’t find anything suitable, I’ll be back within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.” 

Zhang Yuehui felt somewhat reassured and nodded heavily, listening as her footsteps faded into the distance. 

Alone in the damp, dark cave, surrounded by silence as deep as a still pond, all the emotions he had been gritting his teeth to suppress now surfaced. He felt himself sinking, stripped down to just his body, and only then did he become fully aware of the excruciating pain in his leg. 

Cold sweat beaded densely on his forehead, and the pain contorted his features into a grimace. 

The exhaustion and hopelessness of recent days crashed over him all at once. 

But Zhang Yuehui clenched his jaw tightly, refusing to show even a hint of vulnerability. He couldn’t let Nan Yi return to find him whimpering in pain. 

He was the one who had dragged her into this escape. He refused to admit he had botched things up. Though he had anticipated the traitor, he was still too late. They could no longer follow the original route. He needed to devise a new plan immediately, but the more urgent his thoughts became, the harder it was to untangle them. Coupled with the physical agony, his mind grew increasingly muddled. 

His body alternated between chills and fever. Time seemed to stretch endlessly. He felt someone moving his leg—gently, yet the motion still triggered waves of pain. When he opened his eyes again, it was still night. 

Nan Yi had returned. She lit a small campfire, kneeling beside him as she carefully secured his injured leg with wooden planks and vines. 

Her movements were extraordinarily gentle, her gaze lowered. Her long lashes cast a shadow across her face, like a butterfly resting there, its wings trembling faintly with every subtle shift of her eyes. 

When she inadvertently raised her gaze, the butterfly seemed to take flight, disappearing into the darkness. 

He quickly closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. 

Unaware that he was feigning, Nan Yi assumed he was still awake. “Zhang Yuehui, try moving a little. See if it’s tied securely.” 

When Zhang Yuehui remained motionless, Nan Yi grew concerned and called out again, “Zhang Yuehui?” 

She nudged him, and he let his head slump onto her shoulder, playing the part of a lifeless man so convincingly that Nan Yi sensed something amiss. A broken leg couldn’t possibly drain all his vitality, could it? 

She shoved him back abruptly. “Stop pretending!” 

Pretending to glare at him in mock anger, she found Zhang Yuehui staring at her with wide, pitiful peach-blossom eyes, completely unashamed. 

“Nan Yi, if I can’t make it, just leave me behind. Go on your own. If you still feel any gratitude toward me… bury me in a beautiful place. Let that be the end of whatever bond we once shared.” 

Nan Yi couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. Sly Zhang Yuehui—when force didn’t work, he resorted to tenderness. Wasn’t he just trying to coerce her into saying she wouldn’t leave him? 

Too lazy to argue further, Nan Yi focused on wrapping the vines around the wooden planks, tying a knot. She then picked up a chosen branch, shaved off the splinters, and handed it to him as a makeshift crutch. 

“Get up. Let’s go.” 

Without room for objection, Nan Yi issued her command. Zhang Yuehui, now reduced to a helpless dependent, dared not protest and tried to prop himself up with the crutch. 

He didn’t want to hold her back, but at this moment, he truly couldn’t muster any strength. 

Seeing this, Nan Yi stepped forward decisively, hoisting Zhang Yuehui onto her shoulders, and set off without pause, leaving the place behind. 

Half his weight pressed against her, but she said nothing, stubbornly carrying him on her back, relying solely on her legs to push forward until they crossed the border of Lido Prefecture. 

According to their original plan, the next stop was a small town where people from Shu territory would meet them. Once they reached that town, they would be safe. 

Yet Zhang Yuehui grew increasingly restless. 

The plan had gone awry, and even the shortest distances now felt interminable. The road ahead was fraught with danger—pursuers behind, uncertainty ahead. How could she not abandon him? 

“If you want to leave me behind, I won’t hold it against you.” 

“I’m the villain who tore you apart from Xie Queshan. I know you’re being kind by not killing me outright.” 

“If you can’t walk anymore, forget it. Why should you bother saving me?” 

He sounded like a bitter, resentful lover. 

Nan Yi patiently repeated her answer countless times: no matter what happened, she wouldn’t leave. But by the end, her patience finally wore thin. 

“Zhang Yuehui, are you deliberately making trouble for yourself?” 

He continued to gaze at her with mournful, yearning eyes. “I just wanted to be with you so badly.” 

“You’re lying!” Nan Yi finally snapped, unable to tolerate his hypocritical melodrama any longer. “Did you really make this decision purely out of love for me? Can you honestly say there wasn’t a single other motive mixed in?” 

Zhang Yuehui fell silent, as if exposed. His face suddenly flushed with embarrassment, burning from within. 

“I don’t care whether you’re doing this to spite Xie Queshan or because you’ve already offended Wanyan Pu and want someone to share your fate in death—I don’t care. I promised you I’d stay by your side, and I will. If we live, we live together; if we die, I’ll bury you. Is there anything else you want to say? Ask away, and I’ll answer.” 

After a long silence, Zhang Yuehui finally muttered bitterly and pitifully, “No.” 

“Then shut up and focus on walking.” 

“...Alright.”