Gao Yuexing knelt on one knee beside him and said, “I don’t need any way out; I only want all of you to be safe and sound.”
She struggled to help Langdu onto the horse, letting it carry him.
Leading the horse herself, she walked ahead, trudging through the shifting sands of the Hucha Sea, one foot sinking, the other barely steady.
She was well-versed in medicine and naturally understood the severity of Langdu’s injuries.
Without sufficient medicine and a stable environment for healing, he would truly die.
Even with them, survival was uncertain.
Gao Yuexing had a terrible sense of direction and couldn’t discern her way in the vast desert.
Since her rebirth, there had never been a moment when she felt so lost.
It was only then that Gao Yuexing gradually realized not everything could be within her calculations, moving forward step by step along the trajectory she envisioned.
Langdu lay prone on the horse’s back, licking his dry, cracked lips. In the next moment, a small, damp cloth was immediately held to his mouth. He took it in, tasting a faint saltiness.
It was salt.
He chuckled and said, “Junior Sister, your fundamentals are really solid.”
Gao Yuexing replied, “It was you, Senior Brother, who taught me. Back then, when we went to the western frontier together, you told me that the battlefield is different from other places—salt is the simplest yet most life-saving thing. So I’ve always carried it with me.”
Langdu: “You did very well.”
Gao Yuexing stopped leading the horse and said, “Senior Brother, I can’t tell the direction. How do we get to Fox Hu King’s City? Can you point me the way?”
Langdu: “Don’t go.”
Gao Yuexing: “There’s only that one path to take. If you don’t tell me the direction, we’ll both get lost in the Hucha Sea. By then, if you really pass on, you won’t be lonely—I might soon join you.”
Langdu had no way to deal with such a Gao Yuexing. Helplessly, he pointed in a direction and said, “Just keep going straight in the direction you’re facing now. Ahead, you’ll reconnect with the trade route leading to Fox Hu.”
Gao Yuexing nodded and said, “Okay.”
Then, she turned around and headed in the direction completely opposite to what Langdu had indicated.
Langdu was exasperated. “You…”
Gao Yuexing said, “Senior Brother, you care so much about my safety; there’s no way you’d truly let me head back to Fox Hu King’s City, right? If you say so, then walking in the opposite direction must be the right choice, isn’t it?”
Langdu coughed, his chest filled with the metallic taste of blood. “You, Junior Sister, if only you weren’t so smart.”
If she weren’t so smart, she wouldn’t have risked her life to venture into the western frontier.
If she were just a bit less clever, she would have reluctantly accepted their sacrifices and protection, rather than putting her own life on the line in a futile attempt to change something—knowing full well it was in vain.
Gao Yuexing continued in the direction she had determined, calculating the time. They had left Fox Hu King’s City about half a day ago. Now, deep in the Hucha Sea, their pace had slowed. But if they pushed harder, they could reach their destination before nightfall.
Firm in her judgment, Gao Yuexing pressed on with determination, refusing to stop.
She occasionally glanced back to check on Langdu’s condition.
Due to the lack of proper treatment for his wounds, his energy and vitality were steadily declining.
Gao Yuexing thought to herself, endure it, just endure it a little longer, and there will be a way forward soon.
But as she calculated the time, after walking for most of the day, the setting sun finally hung above the desert, red like spilled blood. Gao Yuexing eventually returned to the trade route, but she stopped. Ahead, there was nothing but desolation, and looking back, there was no trace of where they had come from.
…
What was going on?
Could the direction have been wrong?
On the horse’s back, Langdu opened his eyelids and smirked smugly. “I figured you wouldn’t obediently listen to me. Foolish, aren’t you?”
Gao Yuexing’s eyes reddened. “Senior Brother!”
Langdu said, “Follow this path. In half a day, you’ll reach Song Niang Inn. But if you go back, you won’t reach Fox Hu King’s City even by dawn. Oh, and the journey might not be peaceful. The choice is yours.”
Langdu had guided her onto a road with no other options.
She gritted her teeth. “Senior Brother, you’re wrong. It’s not that I’m too clever, but that I’m not clever enough.”
Langdu managed a weak smile and said, “Junior Sister, you’ve just always underestimated how determined others are to protect you.”
After trudging through the desert for most of the day, Gao Yuexing could feel her legs growing numb and swollen, as if filled with lead. Every step required immense willpower. She paused for a breath and checked Langdu’s forehead—it was already burning with fever. She pulled out the last pill from her gourd but found that she couldn’t pry open Langdu’s mouth.
Gao Yuexing said, “It seems you still have some strength left. In that case, you can take the medicine later.”
She mounted the horse, disregarding Langdu’s injuries that couldn’t handle the jostling, and spurred the horse to speed toward Song Niang Inn. The sooner they arrived, the sooner there would be hope.
Langdu slipped into unconsciousness again for nearly half the day. When he opened his eyes, he felt that the suffocating pain in his chest had eased. There was a lingering bitter sweetness in his mouth, and the numbness around his wounds left him with no sensation. He realized Gao Yuexing had fed him the last pill.
The three life-saving pills he had painstakingly refined had all returned to his stomach.
Gao Yuexing managed to reach Song Niang Inn in the first half of the night. From afar, she saw a lantern hanging at the inn’s entrance, left there to light the way for latecomers.
Someone was waiting for them at Song Niang Inn.
As soon as her horse stopped, the inn’s doors opened. Disciples of the Medicine Valley rushed out, surrounding the horse, their hearts filled with concern for their senior brother.
Gao Yuexing silently released the reins, letting the Medicine Valley disciples take Langdu down.
Song Niang stood at the inn’s entrance and saw Gao Yuexing walking heavily toward her. She asked, “How is he?”
Gao Yuexing shook her head and borrowed a carrier pigeon from Song Niang to send a message to Yaonu.
Song Niang said, “It seems a few disciples from Medicine Valley got lost in the Hucha Sea.”
Gao Yuexing stopped in her tracks.
Song Niang continued, “Don’t worry. Just now, His Highness Prince Xiang returned and has personally gone out to search for them.”
The Medicine Valley disciples carried Langdu up to the guest room on the second floor. Gao Yuexing listened to the sound of their hurried footsteps gradually fade above her. In a daze, she asked, “Is he safe?”
Song Niang replied, “He’s fine.”
The emptiness in Gao Yuexing’s heart seemed to finally settle, swaying briefly before finding a branch to rest on, offering her a moment of solace.
Song Niang said, “He asked me to tell you to wait for him at the inn.”
Gao Yuexing nodded and said, “I understand. At a time like this, I won’t go out and make trouble for you all.”
Song Niang felt that something was off about Gao Yuexing’s mood. She wanted to offer comfort but didn’t know where to start.
When Langdu was carried inside, she had seen the terrifying state of his wounds.
To be injured to such an extent and still make it back to the inn alive was no small feat. Human lives had always been as fragile as blades of grass. Even with the return of a divine healer, it might still be impossible to restore him.
Song Niang said, “The wounds are too deep, not only damaging the heart and lungs but also likely to become infected soon.”
The festering wounds would claim his life.
Several young disciples of Medicine Valley stood guard by Langdu’s bedside. One of them, wiping tears, choked out, “I know it’s wrong to think this way, but I can’t help it. If only we hadn’t gotten involved in that royal mess back then!”
Langdu’s eyes remained tightly shut.
That thought wasn’t unique to just one disciple. Gradually, others began to echo the sentiment.
Langdu’s eyelashes fluttered. He opened his eyes and looked at the first boy who had spoken, saying, “Zhuli, I remember you joined Medicine Valley when you were five years old.”
The boy named Zhuli, who looked about fifteen or sixteen, had a simple and honest appearance. Hearing Langdu call his name, he stepped forward, knelt by the bedside, and said, “Senior Brother, you remember correctly. I joined when I was five. My family was so poor that they sent me to the city’s clinic as an apprentice to earn money. But the clinic’s owner was a black-hearted doctor who colluded with the local scoundrels to poison an innocent family head. Everyone in the clinic was accused of being accomplices, including me, who didn’t know anything at the time.”
Langdu asked, “Do you remember who saved you?”
Zhuli replied, “It was the local magistrate, who saw through everything.”
Langdu shook his head. “No, you still don’t understand. It was the laws of our Great Xu Dynasty that ensured no innocent person could be wrongly judged.”
Zhuli’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth in surprise.
Langdu continued, “After our emperor ascended the throne, he traveled incognito across the vast land of Great Xu. Upon returning to the capital, his first decree was issued: during the Jingle era, there would never again be tax increases…”
He crooked a finger at his junior brother, as if giving a lesson, and said gently and patiently, “You’re still young, so perhaps you don’t know what life was like thirty years ago when we were at constant war with Fox Hu. The people lived under crushing taxes, unable to raise their heads. All the grain was forcibly collected and sent to the western frontier to feed the troops. But there was no choice. If the soldiers couldn’t eat, our land would be invaded, and our people would be massacred.”
“We can’t afford to fight anymore. Fox Hu and Xumo’er are ambitious wolves. Even if we retreat into Medicine Valley for a moment of safety, when our central plains fall, can you bear to watch your compatriots being slaughtered?”
Langdu said, “I can’t. That’s why, when His Highness Prince Xiang went to the western frontier alone to try to stop something, I had to lend him a hand.”
All the junior disciples lowered their heads.
Gao Yuexing stood outside the door, her forehead pressed against the rough grain of the wooden frame, placing the bowl of freshly brewed medicinal soup at the door.
As she went downstairs, the inn’s door opened. Song Niang, who had been waiting at the counter, went out to greet the visitor. Gao Yuexing heard her call, “Your Highness.”
Li Fuxiang had brought back the last two disheveled Medicine Valley disciples, safely escorting them into the inn. Taking the cool, damp towel that Song Niang handed him, he wiped his face and asked, “Has my princess returned?”
Before his voice had fully faded, his gaze swept around the room, falling on Gao Yuexing, who stood motionless on the wooden staircase.
Li Fuxiang propped one hand on the banister and vaulted up the stairs, stopping in front of Gao Yuexing. He asked, “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
Gao Yuexing shook her head.
Li Fuxiang paused, then sensitively asked, “What’s wrong?”
Gao Yuexing raised her bloodshot eyes and asked, “How is your plan progressing?”
Li Fuxiang replied, “I swapped out the gold they were paying tribute with and tampered with their grain carts as well… That said, why were you all attacked by Xumo’er?”
Gao Yuexing said, “I don’t know. For now, I can’t figure it out, nor do I want to waste energy thinking about it. Your Highness, Xumo’er owes me a blood debt, and I will make them repay it tenfold, a hundredfold.”