The moon hung high in the sky, casting its glow over a murmuring stream where the shadows of trees fragmented the light, their silhouettes both fractured by the moonlight and swallowed by the darkness. Footsteps silent, robes untouched by dust, a figure moved through the woods. Judging by the ease of his gait, he had been walking through these woods for a long time.
The sound of flowing water ahead indicated that Bifeng Forest was not far off.
A man pushed aside the branches and calmly approached the small wooden house, gently pushing the door open. His tall figure, clad in simple cloth robes and pearl-embroidered shoes, was unmistakably Tang Lici.
Inside, the sound of running water grew clearer. Tang Lici passed by tables and chairs, following the sound to a corner where he lifted a wooden board lightly covering the ground, revealing a hidden passage. He glanced around, took a fire starter from his sleeve, and lit an oil lamp resting on the table. Holding the lamp, he descended the stone steps into the passage.
Under the dim lamplight, the passage led to an unexpectedly grand underground palace. Countless rooms lined the corridors on either side, their style and decor identical to Piaoling Mei Yuan. This place had clearly been in operation for a long time—it couldn’t have been built in just a few months. As he walked forward, endless doors stretched along both sides, all shrouded in the same darkness. The flickering lamplight cast shifting shadows at the doorways, occasionally illuminating strange objects inside. Yet no matter how the dim light altered his surroundings, his steps remained steady and unhurried, his rhythm unchanged.
From the end of the corridor came the faint sound of water—indistinct, merely the trickling and splashing of liquid—yet everything else was deathly silent.
Tang Lici reached the end of the passage, where a door stood. The water sounds came from behind it, close yet muffled by the thick barrier. He knocked lightly, and the heavy, resonant "thud" revealed the door was made of bronze. Setting the oil lamp down, he drew a pink dagger from his sleeve—Zhong Chunji’s "Little Peach Red." Sliding the blade into the door’s seam, he sliced downward. With a soft "click," the bronze door swung open.
Inside, darkness still reigned, save for the murmuring water. For some reason, Tang Lici shuddered slightly. Raising the lamp, he sighed softly before even seeing what lay beyond.
Where the light fell...
A sea of blood—
(Note: The following is a misplaced segment from Chapter 14, "Matters of a Troubled Heart," Part 01.)
Behind the bronze door was a water dungeon.
Under the weak lamplight, the water in the dungeon took on a terrifying blood-red hue. In the upper left corner, a small hole allowed water from the outside stream to flow in continuously, though its exit remained unknown. Something moved in the water—whether snake, fish, or something else was unclear. Against the stone wall facing the door, a faint human figure stood, the water reaching chest-level. Disheveled hair obscured the face.
With a splash, Tang Lici leaped into the water and strode straight toward the figure, lifting her into his arms. Her face tilted back into the light—pale as death—revealing A Shui. An iron clasp locked around her waist, chaining her to the wall. With a swift stroke of "Little Peach Red," Tang Lici severed the clasp and carried her out of the water, away from the dungeon.Her skirt was soaked in blood, the thick crimson in the water prison emanating from her dress... Tang Lici's expression shifted slightly. She had miscarried, and judging by the scene, she must have lost a great deal of blood, yet she hadn’t fallen unconscious. Tang Lici carried her out of the water prison. Her eyelids fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes, offering a faint smile. "Tang..."
"Don’t speak. I’ll take you to a physician," Tang Lici soothed gently. "Close your eyes and rest. Fu Cui led a force up Good Cloud Mountain yesterday but failed. Most of Dissolute Shop’s men were captured, with minimal casualties on both sides. I noticed you weren’t among those who ascended the mountain last night, so I—" Before he could finish, A Shui went limp and fainted in his arms.
He stiffened slightly, pressing his fingers to the pulse at her neck before lifting her cold body and swiftly departing.
The journey from Good Cloud Mountain to the sheltering forest took him half a day on foot. Liu Yan had been abandoned by Fu Cui as a pawn, and the fate of A Shui—who was doted on by Liu Yan and even carried his child—was predictable. Already envied and distrusted by many, whether she would be tortured or killed was no surprise... His decision to come on foot was merely a deliberation... Should he come at all?
Forty-eight thousand, three hundred, and sixty-one steps... This woman was insignificant to the grand scheme, her life or death inconsequential. Yet if he ventured here alone and encountered danger, the consequences would be unpredictable. Along the way, had there been any sign of suspicion, he would have turned back. And all the while, A Shui—severely injured, submerged in cold water, suddenly miscarrying—could have died at any moment. But...
But in the end, nothing happened. When he found her, she was still alive. That was her luck.
Tang Lici carried A Shui out of the small wooden hut. Under the moonlight, her battered body was covered in wounds, clearly the result of a brutal beating. Her skirt was stained with blood—how much had she lost in that water prison? And had the creatures swimming in those waters taken a few bites of her? He retrieved a gray medicine bottle from his robes, the kind he usually took, shook out two white pills, and slipped them into her mouth. With a sharp tear, he ripped open her dress.
Beneath the torn fabric, her body was covered in whip marks, the wounds soaked in the filthy water of the prison, now a ghastly grayish-white with faint traces of blood. From his robes, he produced a small golden box, intricately carved with a coiled dragon, its head raised in fury, its eyes made of black crystal that gleamed brilliantly under the moonlight. The craftsmanship and patterns suggested it was of imperial origin. Opening the golden dragon box revealed a layer of dark brown ointment. He applied it to A Shui’s wounds, wrapped her in his outer robe, fastened the belt, and propped her legs up on a rock, tilting her head back to ease her breathing. Then he pressed several acupoints on her body.
After quietly studying her for a moment, Tang Lici sat down on a large rock by the stream. He was no physician—this was the extent of what he could do. Whether she lived or died now depended solely on her fate. Gazing at the moonlit stream, his eyes betrayed traces of exhaustion, flickering between confusion, emptiness, clarity, and even arrogance. By the stream, beneath the moon, his expression shifted endlessly, yet remained steeped in melancholy and solitude.
A long time passed, the sky shifting several times over, before A Shui’s lashes trembled and she slowly opened her eyes.The first thing that met her eyes was a stretch of blue sky, with the gentle murmur of flowing water nearby. The soft sunlight warmed her left palm, bringing a comforting sensation. Turning her head slightly, she saw a small turquoise bird hopping not far away, holding a thin blade of grass in its beak, tilting its head to look at her. Unconsciously, a faint smile tugged at her lips. A Shui moved her fingers slightly and realized she was lying on a layer of clothing, with another robe draped over her. Suddenly, she remembered what had happened.
The smile vanished from her face in an instant, replaced by pallor. She parted her lips and whispered a single word, "Tang..."
Someone turned toward her from beside the stream, his face still gentle and refined, offering a faint smile. "Awake?" He wore a white undergarment, while both his outer robes were on her. Clearly, the person who had broken through the door with a lantern to rescue her last night was not a dream. A Shui coughed softly. "You... stayed here... sat here all night..." Tang Lici merely smiled. "I didn’t do much. That you woke on your own is your own doing." Her pale face showed no trace of a blush. "You... you helped me..." Tang Lici continued to smile. "I merely helped you wash and applied ointment, nothing more." She fell silent for a long moment before exhaling a weary sigh. "He... where is he?"
She didn’t specify who "he" was, but both understood implicitly. Tang Lici spoke gently, "He... was taken by Shen Langhun. But I suspect he won’t be in mortal danger for the time being." Her eyelids fluttered slightly as she stared intently at Tang Lici for a long while before speaking slowly, "You must be tired too... Yesterday’s battle must have been fierce... cough ... Even if I had died, it... wouldn’t have mattered much. There was truly no need for Young Master Tang to..." Tang Lici walked over and sat beside her, placing three fingers on her wrist. "I’m not tired." She smiled faintly, gazing at the blue sky. "This is the first time I’ve seen Young Master Tang... alone..."
"I’m not tired, nor do I fear solitude," Tang Lici replied with a smile. "That you still remember to care for others is proof enough. A life already half-filled with loneliness shouldn’t end miserably in a water dungeon. If you had died like that, it would have left the world too disheartened." A Shui continued to smile faintly, her eyelids slowly closing. She was exhausted—both in body and spirit. Had Tang Lici spoken even a few sincere words to her, she might have found the strength to hold on. But everything he said was hollow—not false, yet not true either—and it wearied her to listen.
A person only lets their guard down before those they trust, which was why she had fainted in Tang Lici’s arms. Yet he refused to speak sincerely to her—or perhaps... he had never spoken sincerely to anyone at all. He had never let his guard down, and thus, he had no weaknesses...
In her dazed state, she muddled through countless thoughts before slipping back into unconsciousness.In truth, it wasn’t just a night that had passed—it was a full day and night. Tang Lici lifted her into his arms and turned to walk back toward Good Cloud Mountain. Throughout that day and night, he had neither eaten nor rested, sitting silently on the large rock by the stream, waiting for her to wake. He was known to be cold-hearted and ruthless; no matter what kind of woman she was, once she fell within his calculations—even if she was someone he deeply valued—he would sacrifice her without hesitation, never batting an eye. But… A Shui was ultimately no threat to the grand scheme. After all, he had walked forty-eight thousand three hundred and sixty-one steps to save her, and then waited here for a full day and night. For Tang Lici, this was already a great deal.
Good Cloud Mountain.
Tang Lici and Chi Yun had suddenly vanished without a trace. When Shao Yanping received the news, it felt like misfortune never came singly. If hanging oneself weren’t so disgraceful, he might have already done it by now. Ever since his failed assassination attempt on Tang Lici, Yu Furen had been acting dazed and foolish, asking everyone he met, “Where is Tang Lici?” He refused to let go of his sword, neither eating nor sleeping, and within just a day or two, he had become haggard. Shangguan Fei’s body had already been prepared for burial, but the murderer remained at large. The hundred or so prisoners also posed a significant problem in terms of food and clothing, keeping Shao Yanping frantically busy. Fortunately, he had already written and sent out over a hundred letters, summoning the families and masters of these red-and-white-clad women to retrieve them and discipline them accordingly. Though there were many beauties among them, sadly, he had no fortune to enjoy them.
Just as he was at his wit’s end, a disciple suddenly reported that Tang Lici had returned.
Overjoyed, Shao Yanping rushed out to greet him, only to see Tang Lici clad in a white underrobe, carrying a woman in his arms as he stepped through the gate. Shao Yanping was taken aback. “This is…?” Tang Lici smiled faintly. “This is Liu Yan’s maidservant, Miss A Shui.” Shao Yanping sighed. “At the moment, there are no clean rooms available. Young Master Tang will have to take this lady back to your own quarters for now. Did you disappear just to save her? Where’s Chi Yun?” Tang Lici turned slightly. “I sent him to pursue someone. No need to worry.” Shao Yanping gave a dry laugh. He wasn’t worried about Chi Yun—but the woman in Tang Lici’s arms was someone he recognized. Wasn’t she the mysterious woman in green who had come alone to see Tang Lici the other night? Tang Lici was a man of extraordinary intellect and profound cunning, a talent perfectly suited for these times. He mustn’t let this woman of unknown origins bewitch his mind! In the midst of such chaos, abandoning the Central Plains Sword Association for the sake of a woman was a dangerous sign indeed. His eyes darting about, Shao Yanping summoned a disciple and instructed him to stand guard outside Tang Lici’s door, ensuring that whatever orders Young Master Tang gave, they would be carried out with utmost devotion and without question.
Tang Lici carried A Shui into his room and laid her on the bed, covering her with the quilt. Feng Feng was also asleep on the bed. A Shui still hadn’t regained consciousness. Tang Lici picked up the long-cold tea on the table and took a sip, then turned to retrieve a pale blue robe from the wardrobe and draped it over his shoulders. He made no move to properly dress, simply letting it hang loosely as he sat in a chair by the table, propping his chin on one hand and gazing at A Shui. Before long, his lashes lowered slightly, and after another moment, his eyes slowly closed.Shao Yanping waited half a day but received no message from the disciple about any instructions from Tang Lici. Growing increasingly restless, his innate curiosity eventually got the better of him. By mid-afternoon, he quietly slipped to Tang Lici's window and peeked inside.
Feng Feng was sound asleep inside the room, while Tang Lici rested with his head propped on his hand, eyes closed—either meditating or exhausted into slumber. Meanwhile, the woman lying on the bed was awake, her gaze calmly fixed on the ceiling, her expression devoid of any fear or unease. Noticing Shao Yanping peering through the window, she showed no surprise. Instead, she slowly raised her right hand and made a gentle shushing gesture. As the thin quilt slipped aside, Shao Yanping caught sight of the numerous scars on her arm and was startled. Her eyes lingered on Tang Lici, a faint smile touching her lips. Shao Yanping nodded repeatedly in understanding and discreetly retreated.
Holding his breath, he tiptoed away a dozen or so steps before finally exhaling deeply. His curiosity only grew stronger—what had Tang Lici done to be so exhausted? And this maid in green, beaten to such a state, seemed neither angry nor resentful. Her concern for Tang Lici suggested their relationship was far from ordinary.
"Master Shao." A Sword Association disciple stood waiting for him at the courtyard's bend, whispering, "Young Hero Yu's condition seems dire. Just now, he was wildly swinging his sword in his room, demanding to see Young Master Tang. His mind appears unhinged—this can't go on."
Shao Yanping frowned and sighed. "I'll go see." Yu Furen had been poisoned by the Dustless Flower, a rare and stubborn toxin that grew harder to cure the longer it festered, increasingly clouding the victim's mind. Unless—Shao Yanping hurried toward Yu Furen's quarters, his brow furrowed—unless the poisoned man fulfilled his deepest desire, the toxin would resist all treatment. But how could Yu Furen's wish be granted? Let him kill Tang Lici? Preposterous!
Before he could even step into Yu Furen's room, a sharp surge of killing intent rushed toward him. Shao Yanping swiftly retreated with the Seven Stars Formation footwork, narrowly avoiding the doorway. When he steadied himself, his heart sank.
Inside, Yu Furen stood with disheveled hair, gripping his sword as he faced off against another figure—a black-haired monk in robes. It was Puzhu Shangshi. For some reason, Yu Furen had turned his hostility toward Pu Zhu!
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