In the dense forests near Good Cloud Mountain, Shen Langhun dragged Liu Yan through the thickets teeming with insects and snakes. Liu Yan's legs were broken, and Shen Langhun pulled him by one arm, letting his body scrape along the ground. The untamed wilderness was filled with sharp grass, thorns, and venomous creatures. Liu Yan, covered in blood, lay silent—his defiance from the previous night had long since faded into unconsciousness. Shen Langhun had forced antidote and calming powder down his throat but left his leg wounds untreated. Now, Liu Yan burned with fever, so far gone that even if Shen Langhun threw him into a muddy pond, he wouldn’t notice.
With a dull thud, Shen Langhun dropped Liu Yan onto the ground. Ahead lay a clear pond, its waters shimmering with fish, while white flowers bloomed near the shallows, their fragrance intoxicating. The path here had been swarming with mosquitoes, but by the lake, the air opened up—blue sky peeked through the dense canopy, and a fresh, delicate scent lingered, its source unknown. Shen Langhun pulled out a hard piece of flatbread from his robe and chewed slowly. After a while, he took a sip from his goatskin flask and exhaled deeply. The lush green forest, the deep blue clarity of the lake, the pristine beauty of the flowers—had He Niang still been alive, he might have plucked one to tuck behind her ear. She would have been astonished, for in life, he had never given her anything. The thought made him glance at Liu Yan, now writhing with centipedes crawling over his wounds. Shen Langhun watched indifferently, still nibbling on his bread.
Liu Yan was little more than a mangled mass of flesh, covered in grass, broken thorns, and swarming ants. Yet the medicine smeared on his face was of the highest quality—his facial wounds hadn’t festered but were slowly scarring. If this dog of a man were presented now to those white-clad women who once adored him, would they still love him with such devotion? Lost in thought, Shen Langhun’s mind wandered far from his own identity, as if he had fragmented into countless other beings, strangers to himself.
A black ant crawled onto his fingertip where he held the bread. Shen Langhun paid it no mind, his gaze fixed on Liu Yan’s twisted form. The knot of rage and hatred in his chest gradually loosened, replaced by a growing emptiness—vengeance was done, and with it, his heart had hollowed. Love, hatred, passion, resentment… none of it remained. Suddenly, his fingertip tingled. Startled, he examined the ant—an ordinary black one, slightly larger than most. He couldn’t tell if it had bitten him; there was no pain, yet soon, a drop of blood welled up.
Do ant bites—not hurt? Shen Langhun frowned. In all his travels across the land, through countless injuries, he had never been bitten by an ant. As he puzzled over it, his right hand went numb—the bread slipped from his grasp and rolled away.I—Shen Langhun—felt a wave of confusion wash over me, hardly able to believe that such a tiny ant could be poisonous, let alone that one no larger than a grain of rice could bring me down. After a moment of shock, half my body went numb. Here in the depths of the mountain forest, with Liu Yan lying beside me, I gritted my teeth and reached into my robe with my left hand, drawing a dagger. I stabbed it into the wound on my right hand where the ant had bitten, then scraped hard. The blood that flowed out was bright red, as if I hadn’t been poisoned at all. Shen Langhun’s mind grew even hazier, the pain in his right hand intense, his entire body burning. Slowly, he slipped into unconsciousness.
It felt like an eternity had passed before he gradually sensed a faint coolness on his cheek. A soft plink sounded as a drop of water splashed onto his face. Opening his eyes, he saw only darkness before him—the blue sky, green trees, and pond from earlier seemed to have been part of an illusionary realm. After another moment, he realized his eyes were caked with thick grass residue, and something cold had been applied to the wound on his right hand. One sniff told him it was the trauma medicine he carried in his robe. Shen Langhun sat up with a start, wiping the grass from his eyes. The vast night stretched before him—he had been unconscious for an entire day. A bonfire flickered by the lakeside, where Liu Yan sat holding a branch. Beside the fire was a woman of strange appearance. Her figure was that of a youthful maiden, graceful and slender, her delicate hands hanging at her sides almost translucent. Yet her face was that of an old crone, deeply wrinkled and covered in dark spots, a truly terrifying sight.
"You're awake?" The woman, who seemed both old and young, spoke in a hoarse voice, though her teeth were white and even. "Few people come here. Would you like a mountain cat or a carp?" Her voice was unpleasant, but her words were gentle, as if she hadn’t seen people in years and was delighted by the presence of two travelers.
Shen Langhun glanced at the wound on his wrist. "Did you treat my injury, miss?" The aged woman shook her head, pointing at Liu Yan instead. "What happened to his face? Who could be so cruel as to carve up someone’s face like that?" Her tone carried deep sympathy, as if her own strange appearance made her particularly sensitive to Liu Yan’s disfigurement.
A faint thought stirred in Shen Langhun’s heart—Liu Yan had treated his wound? Impossible... Yet this seemingly ancient woman appeared young at heart, utterly guileless, unlikely to lie. "You seem quite young, miss?" The aged girl smiled faintly. "I’m sixteen this year, but I look like an eighty-six-year-old granny." Shen Langhun pressed lightly on his right hand with his left, finding sensation had returned to normal. "How could this be?"The aged-looking girl said, "I was born with a strange illness. By the time I was three or four, I already looked like someone in their thirties or forties. The doctors said I wouldn't live past ten, but here I am at sixteen, looking like an eighty or ninety-year-old." Though her words carried a sense of melancholy, there was no resentment or sorrow in them—she seemed remarkably philosophical. "To avoid frightening people, my mother and I have always lived deep in the mountains and never ventured out."
Shen Langhun nodded. "May I ask your name, miss?" Anyone who could live in the mountains must know martial arts, though their skill level was unclear. Knowing her name might reveal her background.
The girl smiled faintly. "My surname is Yu. My name is Yu Tuan'er." Such a youthful, sweet name, yet it belonged to this strange girl with a face full of wrinkles—it was truly lamentable.
Liu Yan remained silent, quietly stirring the campfire with a branch. Though his face was horrifically scarred, the perfect curve of his jaw in the fire's shadow still held an undeniable beauty.
Yu Tuan'er pointed at Liu Yan. "Who is he? Who cut his face?"
"He... is a wicked man who deserves to die ten thousand times over," Shen Langhun said. "Not just his face—even if every inch of his flesh were flayed, people would only cheer. Countless have died because of him, and the harm he's caused still spreads."
Yu Tuan'er frowned. "Is he really that evil? From what you say, it sounds like you were the one who cut his face."
Shen Langhun gave a faint smile, neither confirming nor denying.
Yu Tuan'er turned to Liu Yan. "If he cut your face, and you're such an irredeemable villain, why did you save him just now?" Having rarely met outsiders, she was straightforward and spoke her mind without hesitation.Liu Yan did not answer. After a long while, he suddenly said, "There is a medicine that can cure your illness." Shen Langhun and Yu Tuan'er were taken aback. "What?" Liu Yan spoke slowly, "There is a medicine that can cure your illness." Yu Tuan'er gasped, "Is it true?" Her face was hideously ugly, but her eyes were clear and bright, gazing at Liu Yan like autumn ripples. Liu Yan replied indifferently, "If you help me drive this person away, I'll give you the life-saving medicine—not only will it save your life, but it can also restore your youthful appearance, returning you to how you looked at sixteen."
Yu Tuan'er asked curiously, "Drive him away? If you wanted him gone, why didn't you just refuse to save him earlier? Why save him only to chase him away now?" Liu Yan curled his lips into a smile, his terrifying visage twisting. "Because I feel like it." Yu Tuan'er nodded. "Alright."
Shen Langhun frowned, his eyes flashing sharply. "Was that ant just now your doing?" Liu Yan asked calmly, "Was that ant poisonous?" Shen Langhun stiffened—the wound from the ant bite showed no blackened blood. Liu Yan continued slowly, "You're allergic to formic acid... Do you know what an allergy is? Others won't die from an ant bite, but you will. Be careful not to die by an ant's sting someday."
As he spoke, Yu Tuan'er suddenly struck out with a palm, the force swift and fierce. Shen Langhun raised his sword hilt to block, and with a thud, she yelped as it struck her squarely on the forehead, toppling backward unconscious. Shen Langhun sneered, "With just a girl of such amateurish skills, you think you can escape your predicament? Did you underestimate Shen Langhun, or did Shen Langhun misjudge you?"
Liu Yan replied coolly, "Even if she couldn't drive you away, you owe me a life just now. Shouldn't you repay me now?" His voice was icy. "A life-saving debt—shouldn't you repay it?"
"Don’t rush. In a few days, once your injuries have healed, I’ll naturally let you go." Shen Langhun said flatly, "Can you really cure her face?" Liu Yan responded just as indifferently, "If I say I can, you won’t believe me. If I say I can’t, you won’t believe me either. Why bother asking?"
Shen Langhun turned his gaze to the unconscious woman on the ground. "This girl’s face is truly bizarre. How could a normal person end up like this?" Liu Yan tossed a branch into the campfire, dimming the flames. "Her condition isn’t the worst of this illness."
Shen Langhun was slightly surprised. "From the sound of it, you’re quite familiar with this strange disease?" Liu Yan said, "Children with this illness rarely live past thirteen. She truly is a miracle—only her face has aged, while her body and limbs remain healthy. Some children... at just one year old, look like eighty-year-olds, including their limbs and torso." He sighed faintly, staring into the fire with clear yet melancholy eyes. Had one not known he was Liu Yan, his gaze at that moment would have seemed like that of a compassionate philosopher.
Shen Langhun glanced at the bandage on his hand. "Have you ever killed anyone with your own hands?"Liu Yan closed his eyes. "No matter what I say, you won't believe me. What's the point of saying more?" Shen Langhun replied indifferently, "I might believe you." Liu Yan said coldly, "No matter what I say, even I don't believe it. You don't need to hear it."
As they spoke, Yu Tuan'er woke up and looked at Shen Langhun in astonishment, seemingly finding it terrifying that he had knocked her out with a single move. Shen Langhun glanced at her. "For a sixteen-year-old, reaching your level is quite impressive."
Yu Tuan'er blinked. "Hearing you say that, your martial arts must be really good. Would you be willing to teach me?" Her tone suggested she bore no grudge for being knocked unconscious earlier, showing remarkable open-mindedness.
Liu Yan said, "You're about to die. What's the point of practicing martial arts?"
Yu Tuan'er replied, "The stronger my martial arts, the longer I might live. My mother's lifelong wish was simply for me to live longer. Now that she's gone, if I want to honor her memory, the only way is to live as long as I can."
Her casual words struck a chord in Shen Langhun's heart. Suddenly, he thought—if He Niang were still alive, her only wish would have been for him to live a peaceful, untroubled life. Yet here he was, joining the Vermilion Dew Tower as an assassin, seizing Liu Yan to peel off his face, and breaking his legs—things He Niang would never have wanted to see.
Liu Yan, however, said icily, "Even if you mastered the greatest martial arts in the world, you still wouldn't live much longer."
Yu Tuan'er wasn't angered. "Then so be it. What can I do?" She handed the roasted wildcat to Liu Yan and the grilled fish to Shen Langhun, then picked a half-cooked yam from the fire and began eating slowly.
The bright moon hung high in the sky, and the lake was as clear as a mirror. The three sat around the campfire—Yu Tuan'er in good spirits, while Liu Yan and Shen Langhun remained silent.
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