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Erik, seeing that she remained motionless for so long, suddenly reached out and seized her hair.
His movement could not be called violent—compared with the force with which he had dragged the nurse and Richard, now he was so gentle it was as though he were handling a toy doll.
Yet who could say he would not, like a beast, without the least warning, tear the doll’s head from its body?
No one knew his thoughts.
Bo Li’s entire body went rigid, allowing him to turn her head.
He wanted her to look at Richard.
Why?
To warn her that if she erred, her fate would be the same as Richard’s?
Yet she did not know what crime Richard had committed.
At that very moment, a sudden flash crossed her mind, like lightning splitting through a fog.
She seemed to understand why.
In the original work, though he was enamored of the heroine, he had never intended to reveal himself before her.
The reason he appeared later was because, after the heroine’s performance achieved great success, she became engaged to a young and handsome viscount.
He loathed his own appearance so utterly that he never kept a mirror nearby, nor any reflective object; even the blade of his dagger had been specially treated, as though frosted, blurred and indistinct.
Yet after she had drawn him closer, she went on to curry favor with a young and handsome magician.
Even though there was no intimacy between them as man and woman, to him, it was a grave insult and betrayal.
Having thought it through, Bo Li did not relax. Instead, a layer of clammy sweat seeped down her back, and she could even feel her heartbeat pounding wildly against her temples.
If her conjecture was correct, how could she possibly mend this?
Would he still be willing to cooperate with her, to help her escape this place?
Her nerves wound tighter and tighter, until her heart seemed about to burst; even the strength to swallow was draining away.
After much thought, she resolved to follow her instinct.
Bo Li slowly rose to her feet.
She dared not rise too quickly, for fear that he was truly no different from a beast—that his hunting instinct would be triggered, and he would fling her to the ground or snap her neck.
Erik watched her, the gaze behind the mask’s eyeholes unchanging, making no move to hinder her.
—Now.
Bo Li drew a deep breath, turned, and threw her arms tightly around him.
She caught the scent of him—not pleasant, like a caged animal restless and frenzied, mingled with the smell of hay and a thick reek of blood.
The last time she had embraced him, the stench of blood on him had not been this heavy.
Bo Li did not want to consider whose blood it was.
She shut her eyes, striving to suppress the terror rising within her. “My original plan was that, after Richard Simon stole this bag, we would follow him and snatch it back. But since you helped me take it first… it truly makes no difference, only that we must leave tonight.”
There was no response.
“Very soon, the manager will notice that the mountaineering pack is missing.” As she spoke, her tone grew steadier. “The first person he will suspect must be the guard. But the guard clearly saw Richard Simon enter the tent… After questioning the guard, the manager will certainly send people to search Richard Simon’s tent.”
Bo Li’s gaze dropped, falling upon the unconscious Richard:
“But now, he is in my tent. The manager will either assume that he ran away with the mountaineering pack, or that he is still hiding somewhere in the circus.”
“The mountaineering pack is so heavy—if Richard Simon were truly fleeing with it, he would have to be on horseback,” Bo Li continued. “So, the manager will first have the horses counted. If none are missing, then a thorough search will begin.”
By the time she said this, Bo Li was entirely calm, for since matters had reached this point, only composure could bring a solution:
“—Before the search begins, take the mountaineering pack and leave this place. Quickly!”
She dared not command Erik to carry the pack, steeling herself to shoulder it alone and flee.
Yet this body of hers was far too frail, nearly devoid of strength. She had only just hoisted the pack when she nearly staggered and fell to the ground.
Erik reached out to steady her, taking from her shoulders the pack that weighed several dozen jin1 Jin (斤): a traditional unit of weight, approximately half a kilogram..
Bo Li let out a sudden sigh of relief.
Though it was he who had caused this predicament, he was willing to carry the pack and even leave with her. What complaint could she possibly have?
Bo Li taught him how to wear the pack, then rummaged through the heap of filthy clothes to find the first aid kit. She lifted the flap of the tent, bent her back low, and crept out cautiously.
Erik followed behind her.
The pressure bearing down on Bo Li was heavier than ever before.
No one knew when the manager might launch the great search.
She had neither the time nor the strength to move Richard. Once the search began, the manager would discover that they were the ones who had taken the pack.
Erik’s behavior remained impossible to predict.
Even if he believed her words for now, even if he was willing to leave with her, he might still at any moment abandon her—or kill her.
It was as though she were walking through a swamp in darkness, every step a struggle, utterly alone.
She could only force her spirits high, persuading herself to look on the bright side—inside the pack were two tins of beef tallow hotpot base, each weighing three jin, with a shelf life of three years. Open the can, bring it to a boil, and it was ready to eat.
These days, most of what she had eaten were bread and potatoes; only at parties could she touch a morsel of meat—and that, unsoaked of its rank odor, was animal liver.
Once she reached safety, she could reward herself with a pot of hotpot.
At the thought that soon she might eat something fiery with heavy salt and spice, her whole body surged with strength, and she nearly lost control of the saliva rising in her mouth.
The October night was bitterly cold. Worse still, a thick fog had risen.
At first glance, it seemed a boon—the glow of fire could not pierce the damp mist, making it hard for the circus folk to track them.
But if she were to lose Erik in this fog, she would never be able to find him again.
Moreover, the mist was dreadfully wet. Before long, she felt her clothes grow heavier, clinging to her body as though soaked through.
Bo Li still remembered that the camp was set near a swamp.
And in the swamp were crocodiles.
Ah—how could she have forgotten? The circus watchmen still carried guns.
Were it not for her mind being relatively steady, not prone to collapse, at such a scene she might already have dashed her head against a tree.
At this point, Bo Li no longer concerned herself with whether Erik might twist her neck. All along the way, she clung tightly to his arm, almost pressed against his body as they walked forward.
Erik glanced at her, his gaze unreadable.
Unknowingly, they had already reached a fork. One path led toward the stables, the other did not.
Bo Li rose on tiptoe, leaning close to whisper in his ear: “…Are we going to ride? I don’t know how to ride—will that cause trouble…”
This flight had been far too hasty.
According to her original plan, if they confirmed that they must ride, she would have slipped into the kitchen to steal some sugar cubes or carrots. Though she had never truly ridden a horse, she had played games—there, horses were always soothed with such things.
But Erik suddenly seized her hair, wrenching her head aside, the motion nearly rough.
Startled, Bo Li ignored the sharp sting at her scalp, certain for an instant they had been discovered.
Yet all around was stillness, the depth of night unbroken.
Only then did she realize—he had yanked her hair because she was standing too close, her damp breath spilling hotly against his ear.
To her, he seemed both like a dog that might bite at any moment, and more skittish than a cat.
Swallowing her indignation, she clapped a hand over her mouth and muttered low: “Are we going to ride or not?”
Erik did not answer, but turned and walked toward the stables.
Bo Li instantly followed.
Her luck was poor—barely had they taken a few steps when a shrill whistle pierced the air. Immediately came the sound of hurried footsteps: someone blowing the whistle and rousing each tent in turn.
“Wake up, all of you, wake up! Richard has run— the manager has something to say!”
A shiver ran through Bo Li, as though the whistle’s cry had struck her across the face.
In no time the whole circus was awake, yet no one raised their voice; all seemed to grasp the gravity of the matter.
Bo Li dared not look back. She quickened her pace in silence.
The next instant, a hand reached out, pressing her head down hard.
Her heart nearly stopped.
After a moment she realized—it was Erik’s hand. Someone carrying a lamp was patrolling near the stable’s exit.
“This night is bitter cold,” the man muttered through chattering teeth. “Why would Richard Simon run? Hadn’t he agreed with the manager to take the pack to Paris together?”
“His own words were, he didn’t want Louis Vuitton’s reward, only what was inside the pack,” another replied. “Maybe once he opened it and found nothing of value, he regretted it.”
“Who told him the pack belonged to Louis Vuitton?”
“Who knows? But he spoke only with that boy Bo Li tonight. We can seize him later and question him…”
Bo Li felt a chill pierce to the marrow.
She had guessed completely wrong.
Erik had not knocked Richard out because of his appearance at all—but because Richard had not followed her plan in the slightest!
She had thought too simply of these people, imagining that Louis Vuitton’s reward would be enough to drive Richard to risk stealing the pack.
But the other party was far more cautious than she had believed. His first thought had been to use the information she supplied to negotiate with the manager, to trade for what lay within the pack.
Earlier, the manager had not allowed Richard to touch the mountaineering pack—most likely because he did not want him to see what was inside. If it turned out to be something valuable, unequal division would spark conflict.
After their discussion, the manager had of course been willing to let Richard take the mountaineering pack and attempt to open it.
As a magician, it was only a matter of time before Richard discovered the hidden clasp and unlocked it.
Had Erik not intervened, she would not only have lost the mountaineering pack, but her identity might also have been exposed—for inside the pack lay her driver’s license.
Though she did not yet know what this body looked like, according to the laws of transmigration, it most likely did not differ greatly from her original self.
By then, whether the manager would seize her for interrogation, to question the origin and use of the items in the pack, or treat her as he had Emily, the “Four-Legged Girl,” making her into a specimen… none could tell.
…Erik had saved her life.
And yet she had thought he acted only out of jealousy of Richard’s looks.
Bo Li lifted her gaze toward him, wishing to apologize, though uncertain how.
Erik sensed the guilty weight of her eyes upon him.
He showed no emotion, nor any intent to respond.
Long accustomed to being misunderstood, compared with his past encounters, her fear and suspicion were scarcely worth a mention.
Yet Bo Li did not withdraw her wavering gaze. It lingered, strangely warm, continuing to wander across his mask.
How could someone’s eyes feel like invisible hands, caressing his mask again and again?
A violent discomfort welled up in him, as though her gaze might at any moment strip the mask away and lay bare the skin beneath.
That sensation filled him with unease—and… shame.
Without warning, a surge of aggression rose in him: the urge to seize her throat, to tighten his grip until her gaze lost its focus, her pulse ceased its beat, and her eyes could no longer touch his face.
At that moment, Bo Li finally thought of how to apologize.
He liked physical contact.
Then she could give him another embrace.
With that thought, she reached out to hold him, tipped her head up, and pressed a kiss upon his mask, murmuring softly: “…I’m sorry for misunderstanding you earlier.”
The patrolmen had long since gone, and she did not fear being overheard.
But Erik thrust her away with sudden violence.
Still, he only pushed her aside; he did not abandon her. He still permitted her to remain close to him as they went forward together.
Bo Li thought nothing more of it, assuming simply that he was shy.