WNST - 115

Despite deciding to risk using Zhang Yuehui’s network to send a message, Wanyan Pu still kept a backup plan. 

She sent a letter only to Gui Lai Tang in Jinling, claiming she was surrounded by enemies in Jinling and requesting they secretly escort her back to Lido Prefecture. 

Of course, the person in the carriage wouldn’t be her but a trusted female attendant who bore a similar build. 

She gambled that even if Zhang Yuehui harbored ulterior motives, he wouldn’t dare target her directly. Would he dare intercept her carriage or block her path? 

If he did, he’d be signing his own death warrant. Falling into her hands meant a fate worse than death—thousand cuts. 

A selfish man like him, why would he sacrifice himself for a dynasty that had abandoned him? 

Wanyan Pu was certain of Zhang Yuehui’s character. 

When Zhang Yuehui received the secret letter, he initially believed Wanyan Pu really intended to return. 

He had been closely monitoring the situation in Jinling. Hearing that Shen Zhizhong had exposed a high-ranking spy, it seemed Wanyan Pu’s circumstances were indeed dire. 

But then again, if Wanyan Pu wanted to leave, she could have done so openly. Why go through the trouble of a secret escort? Unless… she wanted to create the illusion that she was still in Jinling, misleading Shen Zhizhong and his cunning old foxes, while secretly traveling to Lido Prefecture to deliver intelligence. 

This meant the intelligence she held was crucial. 

By specifically requesting Gui Lai Tang to handle the escort, she was issuing a warning—don’t even think about interfering with this information. 

After much deliberation, Zhang Yuehui reached a conclusion: this trip back to Lido Prefecture likely spelled doom for Xie Queshan. 

It had nothing to do with him, except that Nan Yi was on the ship. Actually, it wasn’t that complicated—forcing her return would suffice. But Zhang Yuehui couldn’t bring himself to do it. He felt that such an act would forever place him beneath Xie Queshan. 

Better to preserve his chances for a comeback. 

He confidently believed that in Nan Yi’s heart, he and Xie Queshan held equal standing. 

After all, Xie Queshan—a man who disregarded his own life—was destined for an early death. Sooner or later, he would become a memory for Nan Yi, leaving the rest of her life wide open for Zhang Yuehui to step in. 

As for Xie Queshan, Zhang Yuehui decided to do nothing, simply observing and waiting for opportunities to exploit. To him, this was a risk-free venture. 

The immediate priority was to find a way to lure Nan Yi back. 

Just then, another secret report arrived in his hands. 

---

Click—a faint sound of a mechanism engaging, and the shackles opened. 

Nan Yi hadn’t expected this attempt to succeed either. Slowly, incredulously, she looked up at Xie Queshan. 

“Did it work?” Nan Yi’s mouth hung open as she hastily tossed the iron chains aside, tentatively touching Xie Queshan’s wrist before pinching her own hand hard. 

The pain confirmed it—it was real. 

Xie Queshan was also surprised. “It worked.” 

Nan Yi erupted in joy, pulling Xie Queshan along as she ran. He finally crossed the threshold of the impassable door, stepping onto the spacious deck. 

She shook his hand vigorously, no longer hearing the irritating clinking of chains. Her radiant smile sparkled in the sunlight-kissed river breeze. 

And now, with the shackles gone, certain things needed to be brought into the light. 

“Xie Queshan, what are your plans now?” 

Nan Yi smiled brightly but gazed at him with unwavering seriousness. 

He had said he didn’t want to seek help from Bingzhu Bureau or reveal his identity, and she understood. Some emotions had been festering for years—he couldn’t forgive himself, nor did he wish to burden those from his past. He carried a self-destructive resolve, but she couldn’t stand idly by and watch him walk to his death. So she had done what she could. 

The path ahead was uncertain. She had no idea how far she could go or what the outcome would be, and she had deliberately avoided this sharp-edged topic. But now, with the shackles removed, he could choose anew.

“What kind of future do you want?” But Xie Queshan didn’t directly answer her question. 

“I don’t want you to die.” 

He tilted his head slightly, avoiding the blinding sunlight. “Why?” 

She answered earnestly, “If you were to die like this, for me, the justice of this world would collapse.” 

From the moment she had glimpsed his true identity, alone and unguarded, she could no longer remain an outsider. Her understanding of the world had been shaped by him—it was the mark he had left on her. 

He had to step into the light, live a long life, be celebrated by all, and rise to glory as a noble or statesman—that was the most basic fairness this world owed him. 

At the very worst, he should fall heroically on the battlefield, wrapped in horsehide, sacrificing himself for a cause. He absolutely could not die here, forgotten and in silence. 

But Xie Queshan fell silent. 

Nan Yi’s heart wavered again, and she added playfully, “In any case, you’re responsible for me now.” 

Xie Queshan smiled faintly. “We should think about where we’ll go after leaving here.” 

That sentence immediately lit up Nan Yi’s eyes, her clear gaze shimmering with a mix of happiness and surprise. 

“You’re willing to leave with me?” 

Xie Queshan raised the wrist Nan Yi was holding. “Some people went through so much trouble to save me—I can’t let her down, can I?” 

Nan Yi was overjoyed. She kept glancing at Xie Queshan, unable to stop grinning, and couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. She spun around excitedly on the deck, finally leaning against the railing to shout toward the empty cliffs. 

“We’re tired of this view—we’re leaving!” 

Xie Queshan watched her with a smile, his gaze filled with an unusual sense of resolve. 

---

Once the shackles were removed, escaping the ship became much easier. Tomorrow, when the person delivering their meals arrived, they would knock him unconscious, seize his boat, and make their escape. 

Xie Queshan and Nan Yi agreed that after leaving here, they wouldn’t return to Lido Prefecture for the time being, to avoid unnecessary complications. They would wait until Song Muchuan’s plans were complete and everything settled before going back. 

By then, Xie Queshan’s state of mind might have changed again. Nan Yi, of course, hoped he would be understood by everyone and receive the glory he deserved—but those were distant dreams. For now, simply staying alive, being together, and taking things one step at a time was a good enough outcome. 

This would be their last night on the ship. 

Nan Yi hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. The path ahead seemed bright and clear. 

After drinking some wine, she began to feel lightheaded. While others drank wine into their stomachs, it seemed hers had gone straight to her eyes—her watery, sparkling crescent-shaped eyes overflowed with a fragrant intoxication. Just looking at her, one might feel as though they could get lost in her gaze. 

She gestured animatedly as she spoke. 

“People say Jinling has no nights—the lanterns on the streets dance until dawn! I’ve never been to such a bustling place.” 

Xie Queshan rested his cheek on his hand, also feeling a bit tipsy, his demeanor unusually gentle. “I haven’t been there either.” 

Nan Yi slammed the table with great enthusiasm. “Then we must go to Jinling! We worked so hard to escort Prince Ling’an into the city—we deserve at least a taste of the victory banquet!” 

With a wave of her hand, she indulged in impractical fantasies. “When we get to Jinling, let’s stay in a tavern every day, alright? I’ve heard the banquets in Jinling are different from those in the north—huge plates with only tiny, fist-sized portions of food, just enough for one bite. But that one bite is unbelievably delicious! Wouldn’t I have to eat like that for ten days straight?” 

“That’s not enough. You’d need to eat like that for two or three months.” 

“Exactly! You, Lord Xie, truly have vision—when the time comes, the new ruler must grant you a high position and inscribe your achievements… on a monument! I’ll bask in your glory! Forget the taverns—what about the imperial feast? You’ll have to take me there too! In the future, whenever people see you on the street, they’ll say, ‘Ah, that’s Lord Xie, who endured humiliation, persevered through hardship, and achieved great feats!’” 

Xie Queshan chuckled and took another sip of wine. “Where did you learn so many idioms?” 

Nan Yi puffed out her chest proudly. “Learning on the spot and putting it to use right away!” 

As she spoke, she began to feel heavy, swaying slightly. Thinking she had drunk too much, she leaned on the table and sat down, casting a defiant glance at Xie Queshan’s cup. His glass was empty too, yet he still sat there, calm and unmoving. 

She rubbed her forehead. “How is my tolerance so much worse than yours?” 

Xie Queshan gently steadied her arm. “If you’re tired, go to sleep first.” 

The double vision before her grew more intense, and she could barely make out Xie Queshan’s face anymore. Her body felt weightless, and she couldn’t muster any strength. 

Her last shred of consciousness clung to one thought… Why was Xie Queshan so calm? 

Something wasn’t right. 

“You…” 

Nan Yi clutched Xie Queshan’s sleeve with the last of her strength, staring at him intently. 

Only then did she see the deep loneliness in his eyes. 

He had shared a farewell drink with her, and she had been ecstatic. 

Panic surged in her heart. What was he planning? Hadn’t they already agreed? 

“You… you deceived me?” 

Xie Queshan helped Nan Yi up, speaking softly. “It’s time for you to rest.” 

“Liar…” Each word drained the little strength she had left. But she fought against the drowsiness overtaking her consciousness. She couldn’t let him win. 

She had to keep talking. As long as she kept speaking, she wouldn’t slip into unconsciousness. 

“Why? Even if we ran away… even if the Qi people hunted us down… it would only concern us… It wouldn’t affect Bingzhu Bureau or Lido Prefecture… Why?” 

She strained to lift her arms, cupping his face in her hands. She wanted to see him clearly, as clearly as possible, even as tears blurred her vision. She still wanted to understand him. 

Finally, the smile faded from Xie Queshan’s face, but his expression remained peaceful. 

Everything was going according to his plan. 

“Nan Yi, you must stay safe.” 

If he fled, the Qi people’s pursuit would be relentless. He didn’t want to drag her into danger.

Things weren’t so complicated after all. If only he sacrificed himself, it would ensure the stability of the entire situation. 

“I don’t want safety, Xie Queshan…” Her strength was nearly gone. 

She was like someone clinging to a vine on the edge of a cliff, knowing full well that the inevitable outcome would be losing her grip and falling into the abyss. Yet she still refused to give up. 

All her efforts had been for nothing—he had merely been playing along with her. 

He truly was a bastard. 

“I’ll hate you for the rest of my life… no… for lifetimes upon lifetimes… Even as a ghost, I’ll haunt you… We’re meant to descend into hell together—you can’t, you mustn’t leave me behind…” 

Finally, Nan Yi could no longer hold on. Her eyelids grew heavy and closed, never to open again, and her limp body collapsed into his arms. 

“Good. Hate me—it’s better that way.” 

He gazed at her silently, his expression as calm as still water. 

A faint sigh, almost imperceptible, dripped into the rushing river below, creating a ripple that vanished almost instantly.