Chapter 25

Tree shadows swayed, and the cold wind whistled. As the chill circled within the cliff cave, the freezing air pouring into his lungs triggered a bout of violent coughing in Pei Muci.

Qingwu, drifting in a haze of drowsiness, was startled awake by the vibrations. She opened her eyes, dazed, with a lingering mist still clouding her pupils.

Pei Muci immediately released her, his arms hanging limp as he turned his head to the side, coughing uncontrollably.

Qingwu, unable to bear the sight of his frail state, was filled with worry. In the half-year they had spent together, she had never known that his poison flared up once every month. Even more infuriating was that, despite his condition, he would still run off to stir up trouble, turning the entire Princess’s Manor upside down.

Yet, seeing him now, her anger faded into insignificance. "Ling Yu is an excellent physician; we will surely be able to cure you once we return."

Pei Muci did not take her words to heart. He leaned indifferently against the stone pillar, using the protruding edge of the stone pedestal to support his spine, barely maintaining his balance.

Qingwu sat up. "I am going out to find some water."

Sensing her departure, Pei Muci reached out to stop her, but his hand grasped only empty air. The warmth from her embrace retreated, and the few steps between them felt like an insurmountable chasm. He could only watch her figure recede into the distance from his corner.

The rustling wind sounded like silkworms gnawing on mulberry leaves, appearing exceptionally sharp in the pitch-black mountain forest. In the distance, several torches flickered, illuminating the faint outlines of rolling peaks and a dense cluster of tiny lights like scattered stars.

Qingwu quickly turned and ran back, picking up two thick branches that had not yet burned through. She stepped on them without hesitation to crush them, then smothered the embers with sandy soil.

The narrow space fell into a ghostly, chilling void. As the firelight vanished, the cave returned to chaos, the unknown situation ahead tightening both their hearts. The footsteps outside were rhythmic and powerful; even though they were intentionally muffled, they were certainly not those of local hunters. Appearing in such an uninhabited mountain forest in the dead of night, their purpose was all too obvious.

Pei Muci curled his lips in the darkness, his tone calm. "Your Highness, go ahead first. I will come to find you once I have rested."

He spoke with such nonchalance, as if he were merely suggesting she eat another piece of pastry. This was the second time he had said such things, as if deliberately driving her away.

Qingwu, keeping her attention on the movements outside, glanced down at him.

Pei Muci seemed to sense her gaze upon him and said gently, "Will you?"

Perhaps it was because the Princess had told him repeatedly that she liked him, and had favored him openly time and again, that a tiny, budding sprout had finally broken through the long-frozen ground in his heart. He felt a sliver of hope lingering within.

Yet, if Qingwu truly left, he could not blame her; after all, what he had just suggested was the most logical course of action. The Princess had been pampered since childhood; that she had gritted her teeth and carried him this far was already no small feat. Whatever she chose to do was understandable. Even if she abandoned him here, she would still be fundamentally different from those who had discarded him in the past. He kept hinting this to himself, which was, in its own way, a roundabout way of absolving Qingwu.

The people outside did not speak, silently expanding their search perimeter. The barking of hounds grew closer and then further away. The space here was narrow and poorly ventilated; the stench of blood would surely be detected by those unknown men soon.

Qingwu counted the footsteps outside; none of them seemed to possess profound internal energy. However, she could not engage them in a direct fight here. If she were trapped in a pincer attack, she might not be able to carry Pei Muci out.

Looking at the blood-stained garment Pei Muci wore, she formed a rough plan. But she needed to hide him first; if the hounds found the cave, everything else would be in vain.

With little time left, Qingwu crouched down, hoisted Pei Muci’s shoulders, and propped him into a small corner.

"Take it off," she said, eyeing his blood-stained outer robe as she mentally mapped out a route.

Pei Muci lowered his eyelids, confused.

Qingwu untied the large-sleeved gown she had fastened around her waist, clutched it in her hand, and urged him. Pei Muci did not ask further; he elegantly loosened his belt. The outer robe slipped loosely off his shoulders, revealing his tight, lean upper body, devoid of any excess fat, with well-defined contours.

Facing the approaching footsteps outside, Qingwu only had time for a fleeting glance.

Pei Muci leaned weakly against the grey rock, his silk-like hair cascading down, lying flat against his broad back, framing his pale face with a haunting, demonic beauty. The skin exposed to the air was covered in crisscrossing, gruesome scars, stretching from his shoulders into the shadows where they could not be seen.

Qingwu’s face grew hot. She quickly averted her gaze, sniffed the blood-stained robe, and put it on without the slightest sign of disgust.

Pei Muci still maintained a faint smile, his expression indifferent. He always wore this inscrutable, half-smiling mask, making it impossible to fathom the depths of his thoughts.

Qingwu picked up her sword and draped her own clothes over him. They were a bit short, barely covering his upper body.

"Pei Muci," Qingwu turned back just before leaving.

Her small frame seemed to hold back the impending storm. She lifted her chin, carrying an air of defiance completely different from her usual self. "Do not wander off."

With that, she tore off the trailing hem of her dress with her sword and plunged into the night without looking back.

Pei Muci sat alone in the damp, gloomy corner, his pupils dark and unfathomable.

The mountain night was chillingly silent; all sounds seemed to have drifted away with the wind. Wave after wave of pain tortured his sanity, stirring an unspeakable misery within him. If not for the sudden flare-up of this poison, the Princess would have already escaped.

When all was said and done, Qingwu had already done more than enough by saving him from the porridge shop. If she left him behind now, it would be only natural.

He should be content.

This thought circled his mind like a curse, until it felt as though he were trapped in an endless cycle of self-numbing. The fire died out completely, the embers turning to ash before they could flicker for even a second, drifting down like the snow that fell upon him in every bitter winter.

A suffocating silence consumed him, and fragments of childhood memories rushed back like a gale.

His biological mother had abandoned him in a desolate courtyard without hesitation, leaving him to the mercy of servants who beat and scolded him. His master had chosen his brother over him without a second thought. The wet nurse who had raised him had helped his mother poison him with over thirty types of toxins...

The man who bore the title of father had never come to see him even once after learning of his existence. He was like a maggot in the dark, living in a lightless prison for two years in a daze. Everyone avoided him as if he were a harbinger of doom.

Many years had passed, but these images remained etched in his bones. He had done nothing, yet it was as if he had done everything wrong—as if his very birth was a grave mistake.

Pei Muci put his inner shirt back on, folded the clothes Qingwu had left behind by their corners, and sat in the corner like a stone statue, motionless.

After a long while, he pulled the clothes tightly to his chest. The faint scent of gardenias lingering on them was the only light he could grasp. Yet, even that light began to fade as the fragrance dissipated.

The footsteps outside grew more distant and eventually vanished entirely. Pei Muci couldn't help but think that the Princess must be far away by now.

His eyelids drooped. He tried to push himself up with both hands, only to collapse back down in defeat.

In any case, this body was no stranger to being abandoned.

He remained lost in thought for a long time before pulling a bleak smile, as if he had finally found some measure of release.

—

The fire in the cave had been out for a long time, cold and lifeless.

Qingwu pressed her side against the cave wall, her ears filled with the buzzing of mosquitoes. She held her breath subconsciously, muffling her footsteps.

Ahead was the corner where she had hidden Pei Muci, but it was pitch black—there was no sign of a living soul.

Qingwu gripped the hilt of her sword, her forearm tensed.

Suddenly, someone in the shadows clamped onto her waist. Before she could react, they spun her around, grabbed her by the throat, and pinned her sword-wielding hand against the wall.

*Thud.* The impact was heavy.

The person did not speak. Qingwu’s heels left the ground, and she could feel the hand against her skin trembling slightly.

He did not want to kill her, but he simply lacked the strength.

Qingwu gripped Pei Muci’s wrist with her free hand, surprised by his lingering strength. Unable to break free, she tapped his upper arm to identify herself.

"Pei Muci, it’s me."

The pressure on her neck eased, and Qingwu collapsed to the ground.

"Your Highness?" Pei Muci called out to her, like a traveler who had endured a long night and suddenly glimpsed the dawn. His tone was filled with overwhelmed surprise, as if he were desperately trying to verify something.

He had been sitting there since Qingwu left the cave, not having moved an inch.

The moonlight had stopped at the cave entrance, and he had stared at that distant glow, letting himself remain one with the darkness. Time had never felt so long.

Qingwu rubbed her neck and muttered, "Don't leave a scar on me, please."

She seemed entirely unbothered by the fact that Pei Muci had nearly taken her life.

Pei Muci stood there, dazed. After a few moments, he came to his senses and knelt before her, trying to check the injury on her neck. Before he could touch her, Qingwu had caught her breath and stood up.

Pei Muci wondered if he were dreaming. How could anyone run back after escaping certain danger? He had been fully prepared to be left behind.

"Why is Your Highness here?" he asked tentatively.

What he really wanted to know was whether she had returned because he was still trapped in the cave.

"I lured the pursuers away, so of course I came back," Qingwu said, looking surprised. "Where else would I go?"

Why had this man become so foolish after the poison took hold? He looked incredibly easy to deceive.

Qingwu pointed her sword at the ground and straightened her clothes. The moonlight spilled down, reflecting the chilling gleam of the blade.

Pei Muci saw that Qingwu’s dress had been neatly torn in several places, and the outer robe he had taken off was nowhere to be found. Her face was marked with several grey scratches—not deep, likely just superficial wounds from dashing through the forest.

He did not know the extent of Qingwu’s martial arts, but luring away so many pursuers could not have been easy.

At this thought, his long lashes fluttered. His black eyes, deep as ancient wells, rippled with a soft, gentle light, like golden dust scattered upon calm water.

As a thousand emotions surged within him, Pei Muci felt his strength vanish, and he slumped toward the ground.

Qingwu reached out to catch him, but he had already hit the floor, his chest heaving violently. Yet, he still smiled at her as if nothing were wrong.

She saw a dark, reddish liquid seeping from between his lips.

"This won't do," Qingwu frowned. "I'm going out to get some firewood."

She turned her attention away from Pei Muci and let out a sigh of defeat, her expression growing increasingly grave.

"It’s raining."

Raindrops lashed mercilessly against the leaves, creating a pattering sound, mixed with a stifling, damp chill that poured into the cave without obstruction.

"All the bad luck has piled up at once. And here I was, having offered incense at the Imperial Temple just last month."

For a moment, Qingwu felt like breaking down. She cursed under her breath and began stripping off her outer layers, leaving only her innermost garment. "I have to go out again."

Pei Muci, unwilling to appear overly pathetic before her, tried his best to suppress the pain within to maintain a sense of calm. He pushed himself up to stop her, but the repeated torture had exhausted him. His entire body felt as weak as if he had been drained of water; the meager strength he could scrape together was only enough to catch her hand.

These delicate, slender hands had wielded a sword, walking into danger time and again, shielding him without a moment’s hesitation.

Thus, Pei Muci hooked his finger around her smallest one.