"Third Young Master, please restrain your grief and remain calm. Everything can be discussed. Stay composed, stay composed..."
Wei Shufen raised her hands defensively, facing the bald Hu man advancing with a drawn blade, barely aware of what she was saying.
An San's eyes were bloodshot, his expression wild with the intent to avenge his son, heedless of heaven or earth. Muttering a few Hu prayers under his breath, he sneered, "The daughter of a Han prime minister... will suffice..."
"Your son wasn't killed by me!" Wei Shufen's voice cracked with panic. "What good will random killing do? I'll help you find the real culprit—"
"No need! I'll find them myself!" The burly Hu man laughed bitterly. "A sacrificial maid to accompany my son across the Bridge of Judgment!"
As the curved blade swung toward her, Wei Shufen screamed and stumbled back, frantically pulling off her veiled hat to block the strike. The hat was sliced clean through. Figures darted around—whether her own servants or the Hu guards trying to restrain An San—but his blade still grazed her forearm as she shielded her face, though the weakened strike only left a shallow cut.
Wei Shufen felt warm liquid trickling down her arm but strangely no pain. Outside, a familiar voice roared, "Stop!" while chaos erupted inside the warehouse. A powerful force yanked her backward, and she collided with someone's chest.
Then the cold edge of the gleaming curved blade pressed against her throat, still smeared with her own blood.
Two youths burst through the warehouse door—one lean, one stocky—Li Yuangui and Yang Xinzhi.
Wei Shufen nearly wept with relief, her legs buckling, but An San tightened his grip, hauling her up and bringing the blade closer to her neck. Li Yuangui bellowed, "Let her go!"
An San chuckled darkly, his voice eerily calm now. Holding Wei Shufen as a shield, he faced the doorway and declared in Han speech:
"Li Fourteenth Young Master, my son is dead, and I care not for my own life. But our journey to paradise lacks attendants—Wei Niangzi here will do nicely. If you value her, obey me: prepare two horses, fully equipped!"
Outside, the clamor grew—beyond the Hu guards and their own servants, it seemed Li Yuangui and Yang Xinzhi had brought reinforcements. Li Yuangui stared at Wei Shufen, his face a mix of fury and desperation, while Yang Xinzhi, steadier, restrained his lord with a warning to "stay calm" and ordered the horses readied.
The horses arrived swiftly. An San commanded a trusted Hu slave to lift An Yan-na's corpse onto one horse, then mount behind it. No one interfered—Li Yuangui's gaze remained locked on the blade at Wei Shufen's throat, barely daring to breathe.
"Clear the way! All of you—out!"
At An San's roar, Yang Xinzhi dragged Li Yuangui outside, and the others retreated under the Hu man's murderous glare. Still clutching Wei Shufen as a shield, An San edged toward the exit, blade steady.
In the darkness, two torches flared, illuminating the crowd encircling the doorway. An San barked orders, demanding everyone withdraw from the horses."Sir, please hear me out," a man in his thirties with a slight mustache spoke from outside the door. "Pei here does not know you, nor the reason for today's events. But it is now nightfall, and all gates and exits of Xianyang Ferry Town are closed. If you wish for this young lady to escort you into the wilderness, that is absolutely impossible. Why not release her first, and we can sit down to discuss matters slowly? We promise not to harm you or your son's remains."
"Silence!" An Sanlang roared, his gaze flickering over Li Yuangui's face before he sneered. "Do I not know the status and capabilities of Li, the Fourteenth Young Master? Go to the ferry now and find a boat. Wei Niangzi will escort me across the river!"
From the looks of it, he likely intended to take Wei Shufen and his son's corpse aboard a ferry, after which no one knew where the boat might drift... Yang Xinzhi exchanged a few words with the mustached man, and the man surnamed Pei argued in low tones with an elderly farmer in the crowd. The old farmer frowned and walked away in frustration.
Seizing the opportunity, An Sanlang, still holding Wei Shufen hostage, slowly maneuvered toward the riderless horse under Li Yuangui's unblinking stare, stopping beside the mount where the Hu slave held his son's corpse.
He wants to maintain his knife-at-my-throat posture while mounting the horse, Wei Shufen realized. But that was impossible. An Sanlang couldn’t make two people leap into the saddle simultaneously—he would have to release her, allowing either her or himself to mount first. And that meant the blade would momentarily leave her neck.
She looked at Li Yuangui. The young prince, skilled in martial arts, gripped his sword hilt tightly, his entire body taut like a fully drawn bowstring. If there was just one moment...
"All of you! Throw your weapons over there!"
An Sanlang jerked his chin toward a direction opposite the horses and the warehouse gate. Seeing Li Yuangui and the others hesitate, the bald Hu man flicked his wrist, driving the curved blade into Wei Shufen’s left shoulder. Fresh blood spurted out immediately.
The crowd gasped in unison, but Wei Shufen made no sound. She had anticipated this and clenched her teeth, refusing to cry out.
Yang Xinzhi was the loudest in his outcry, and he was also the first to toss his waist saber into the area An Sanlang had indicated. He then took Li Yuangui’s sword and threw it aside as well. Following their lead, the man surnamed Pei and the others disarmed themselves, raising their hands to signal they meant no harm.
Under the flickering light of two torches, a circle of men and women stood empty-handed, Yang Xinzhi still pleading futilely with cries like, "An Sanlang, don’t be rash." Wei Shufen kept her eyes on Li Yuangui, watching as his eyes slowly reddened and his now weaponless hands rose in surrender. A sharp pang twisted in her chest.
The women close to him—or even just loosely connected—always suffered and vanished before his eyes, one after another. She shouldn’t have become one of them.
Seeing that all resistance had been disarmed, An Sanlang loosened his grip slightly and ordered Wei Shufen to "mount up." Switching the knife to his left hand, he swung it behind him, keeping it ever close to her back.
Clutching the still-bleeding wound on her left shoulder and arm, Wei Shufen fumbled twice before grasping the reins. Weakly, she stepped into the stirrup and mounted, turning the horse’s head toward the warehouse gate. Glancing back at the bald Hu man, she saw he remained vigilant, watching Li Yuangui and the others as he retreated step by step toward the stirrup, his reverse-gripped blade never straying far from his own lower back.If Li Yuangui and his men tried to charge forward to rescue her, An San could still ensure his blade would strike Wei Shufen first. Judging by his posture, it seemed he intended to ride backwards, facing the rear to keep watch on their pursuers...
Wei Shufen tightened her legs against the horse's flanks, urging it forward with a shout while stabbing its hindquarters with the dagger she had drawn from her robe moments earlier. The mount beneath her suddenly surged ahead.
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