Chapter 62

Pei Muxing’s half-loose, long hair fluttered behind him, resembling a pair of invisible black wings unfurled in the gloomy night.

The dim light of the city wall diffused outward with him at its center, casting a warm golden rim around his figure. His exquisite face was as ethereal as green bamboo after snow, bearing an unusual pallor that gave the illusion of being even softer than the bright moon.

Qingwu’s throat was gripped, her lips parted as she struggled to breathe. The skin of her jaw gradually flushed, resembling the morning sun kissing a mountain peak.

Pei Muxing felt as though those five fingers were directly clutching his own heart. Disregarding whether anyone below could hear him, he sighed softly:

"Don't be afraid."

He drew the heavy bow once more, tightening the rear string amidst Qi Yu’s evil chuckle.

The smooth lines of his arm were strained to the absolute limit, the prominent veins trembling uncontrollably under the immense force.

Xi Zhi and Xi Xing stood anxiously behind Pei Muxing, watching the unyielding bowstring cut distinct, red marks into his fingers.

Their lord had always hit every target with absolute precision, yet at this moment, he hesitated, thrown into disarray by the blinding intensity of his concern.

From Qingwu’s perspective, the fur cloak laden with chilling winds made his tall and slender figure appear even more poignant. A few bright stars were reflected in the murky waters of the moat, just like the shards of icy light shattering within his eyes.

She freed both hands and gripped the large palm clamped around her neck.

All the surrounding guards swarmed forward, forming a funnel-shaped formation that shielded the two of them, guarding against any sudden strike from Pei Muxing that might harm Qi Yu.

In their blind spot, hidden from view, Qingwu quietly separated one hand and stroked the mane of the horse beneath her, her fingers hooking into the animal's neck.

The brown horse flicked its tail as if swatting away mosquitoes. After calming down, it raised its head, blew out a few puffs of turbid air, and naturally tossed its head a few times.

Qi Yu merely assumed his mount was moving restlessly under the oppressive atmosphere and paid it little mind, but anyone on the city gate tower could easily notice such grand movements.

Qingwu’s gaze remained calm and steady, unflinchingly meeting the line of sight fixed upon her.

Their eyes locked. She pressed her lips together and, beneath the crushing sense of suffocation, forced a strained smile.

Pei Muxing’s pupils trembled slightly. He clenched his back teeth and shook his head by a fraction of an inch.

Yet Qingwu did not yield an inch, refusing to evade his probing gaze. She even drooped the corners of her eyes, adopting an aggrieved and deeply pitiful expression.

The corners of her eyes were red, brimming with tears that lingered stubbornly without falling. Her complicated gaze intertwined plea with encouragement, and even held a subtle, immersive joy within it.

Pei Muxing recalled every time they had surrendered to passion, how she would hide in his arms and gently trace the scars upon his back.

Her cautious sliding movements, followed by the pity-laden friction trailing over every single scar.

Afterward, she would naturally wipe away the thin layer of sweat spilling across his back, drawing their bodies into an ever-tighter, more intimate union.

Only, during several recent occasions, she had been entirely unwilling, merely lying limply in his designated position, never responding to him with such actions again.

Thus, when Pei Muxing witnessed this gesture and gaze once more, the long-lost familiarity brought a sense of awakening from a deep dream.

Was her display of exclusive tenderness toward him a sign that she was willing to mend fences?

At the very least, it meant she was willing to give him another chance to approach her.

The force in Pei Muxing’s fingertips gradually loosened, and he slowly lowered the longbow.

At first, nothing seemed amiss, until he handed the bow to Xi Zhi, and the group noticed the residual bloodstains still lingering on the feather-fletched string.

"My lord, shall we not bring the lady back?" An Qi probed cautiously.

They had already reached the northern borders, beyond which lay endless sands; stopping her once she slipped away would be no easy task.

"No need." Pei Muxing’s ink-black eyelashes drooped, his gaze profoundly deep.

Whenever Qingwu displayed that particular posture, it was never a blind and reckless demand, but rather a deliberate guidance, leading him to find her points of comfort.

Therefore, through that single glance of eye contact just now, he knew Qingwu had her own plans this time around.

And he ought to respect them.

"What are our plans then?" An Qi awaited further orders.

The people atop the city wall watched helplessly as Qi Yu effortlessly spurred his horse, turned around, and led Qingwu into a carriage.

The carriage wheels slowly began to turn, the tracks they ground out gradually swallowed by the windblown sand.

Though Pei Muxing claimed he would follow Qingwu’s wishes, his heart felt as though it had been plugged with a wooden stopper, leaving him with no outlet to vent his stifling frustration.

Knowing Qi Yu’s ultimate destination, he turned and descended from the city wall.

"Summon Gu Hanjiang. We will go to the Yuezhi tribe and wait for them."

---

Qingwu remained largely silent after boarding the carriage. Thinking himself safe and having cast aside his vigilance, Qi Yu chattered on uncharacteristically.

"Look at that, how could someone who suddenly gained wealth be willing to abandon power just to chase after you? Once he returns to Bianjing, ministers all over the city will covet the seat beside his pillow. What beauty could he possibly lack then?"

Qi Yu’s expression was full of yearning, yet the tone of his words grew increasingly disdainful, even tinged with a hint of loathing.

He firmly believed that once he allied with the northern nomadic tribes, Pei Muxing would not hold his position for long.

The two of them flowed with the same bloodline; why shouldn't he occupy that seat?

Qingwu turned her head away, resting quietly against the carriage wall.

Her ears were filled with the droning, bee-like chatter. Qi Yu recounted his grand enterprise of "revenge" without the slightest avoidance, constantly interspersed with derogatory insults directed at various groups of people.

Growing impatient, Qingwu flatly uttered a single phrase—"I'm sleepy"—to silence him.

Finding directions in the desert was exceptionally difficult. The accompanying retinue gradually sensed that something was amiss, but could only press forward with hardened resolve.

If they encountered quicksand or a sandstorm while standing still, it was not something this small band of men could withstand; the general must under no circumstances meet with disaster along the way.

The queen had fallen into enemy hands with her fate unknown, still waiting for the general to rescue her.

The group circled aimlessly amidst the billowing yellow sands. Initially, Qingwu occasionally lifted the curtain to observe the outside world. Midway, Qi Yu called men over to fit anti-sinking chains and hooved bags onto the horses. When he climbed back into the carriage, he found Qingwu already fast asleep against the soft cushions.

"I truly don't know whether to call you broad-minded or simply fearless." Qi Yu found it amusing, yet felt that such unflinching composure in the face of crisis was precisely the rarest trait among those around him.

After a long and arduous trek, both men and beasts were utterly exhausted. Upon finding a mirror-like lake, Qi Yu ordered a brief rest to recuperate.

When sudden chaos erupted, Qingwu snapped her eyes open, unable to distinguish whether reality or a dream surrounded her.

Relying solely on long-honed intuition, she lifted half the curtain to search for a chance to escape outward.

No matter what wolves or leopards lurked outside, it was still better than sitting ducks trapped in a cramped space.

Still heavy with sleep, she had forgotten there was another person inside the carriage.

A strong arm unconsciously wrapped around her slender waist like a python coiled around an artery in the jungle, instantly yanking her back.

Startled by Qi Yu, Qingwu turned and saw his face, at which point she woke up entirely.

The resemblance was truly uncanny.

Even for her, without careful scrutiny, it was difficult to tell them apart.

"Where is Rong Zhao headed?"

The sound of clashing blades rang out from an extremely close proximity, accompanied by the harsh, tearing screech of steel piercing fabric. A long sword plunged straight into the carriage cabin, halting right beside Qingwu’s temple.

Had she been slightly more unlucky, with the tip of the blade deviating by a fraction, Qingwu might already have perished as a ghost beneath the sword.

Yet she remained entirely serene and calm, showing not a single trace of fear.

The longer Qi Yu interacted with her, the more captivated he became by this woman embedded in mist, itching to peel away her onion-like layers of wrapping to see what lay hidden at the core.

Listening to the escalating sounds of battle outside, Qingwu asked in confusion, "Are these the people you allied with?"

Fighting like this made for a rather peculiar method of welcoming guests.

Qi Yu spread his hands. "Clearly not."

They must have lost their bearings in the desert, missed the welcoming party dispatched by the Yuezhi royal court, and blindly stumbled into some tribe’s territory.

Seeing Qi Yu’s nonchalant demeanor, Qingwu sank back into her seat.

Since the people dying outside weren't her men, and the mastermind himself wasn't panicked, why should she fret?

The skirmish lasted for a full quarter of an hour before the curtain was yanked open from the outside.

A tall, burly man resembling a plowing ox peered in. He possessed rugged features, his true facial structure entirely obscured beneath a thick, dense beard—the unmistakable look of a barbarian roaming the desert.

He roared something outward, and several men with small eyes and prominent cheekbones swarmed around the carriage, brimming with excitement.

"There's a beautiful woman in here!"

Though Qi Yu inwardly loathed such crude remarks, he betrayed no trace of it on his face. Lowering his tempo, he spoke to these men word by word: "I want to see your chieftain."

Noticing the carriage's lavish interior and the refined carriage of the man and woman, the men deliberated for a moment before gesturing for the two of them to alight and proceed on foot.

The elite soldiers Qi Yu brought were fierce and seasoned warriors, naturally unwilling to surrender easily. Though they had ultimately lost, the barbarians hadn't gotten off scot-free; their narrow victory had exacted a heavy toll.

Qingwu caught sight of the large piles of corpses strewn outside the carriage. The numbers on both sides had been comparable, but the barbarians fought with reckless desperation, eventually wearing down Qi Yu's side into a disadvantage.

The surviving men were bound together with a single rope, dragged along as they waded through knee-deep sand.

"You folks from the Lin Dynasty?" A short man among the barbarians spoke a smattering of Chinese. Though his pronunciation was clumsy, his intended meaning was barely intelligible.

Qingwu kept a distance from Qi Yu. Seeing that she was merely a frail woman, none of the captors placed excessive restrictions on her movements.

"Uh... are you husband and wife?" The short man eyed the widening gap between the two, finding it exceedingly strange no matter how he looked at it.

Their great chief adored beauties, especially tender-skinned women from the Lin Dynasty.

Word had it that the new wife the chief had recently taken was a Lin native, hailing from the royal and noble lineages before the dynasty fell. None of them had ever laid eyes on a woman of such pristine whiteness.

Yet the woman before them possessed snow-like skin and a beauty a thousand times more breathtaking than their own chieftain's wife. Consequently, several of them harbored crooked intentions of presenting her to the chief to claim merit, regardless of whether the pair were truly a wedded couple.

Having occupied a position of high power in the Southern Dynasty, Qi Yu saw right through their simplistic schemes. Especially once they set their sights on Qingwu, an itch arose in his hands.

Once he utilized the chieftain's strength to locate Yuezhi, and subsequently united the northern nomads with the remaining southern troops in a pincer movement against Bianjing, he would ascend the throne and whip these uncultured barbarian tribes into absolute submission.

While Qi Yu harbored grandiose ambitions, Qingwu stared at his back, her mind involuntarily drifting to Pei Muxing.

In comparison, Pei Muxing’s posture was always rigidly upright, possessing a far superior bearing to Qi Yu.

She wondered if he had comprehended her subtle hint just now—

No matter how impregnable a fortress was, breaching it from within remained the most effortless method.

By letting her stay by Qi Yu's side to fathom the factions he sought to ally with, they could effortlessly subdue the enemy without striking a single blow.

Yet what she had not anticipated was that while Pei Muxing understood her intentions all too well, he simply refused to endure such a protracted wait any longer.