Chapter 22

When Lian Ai regained consciousness, both his hands and feet were tied. There was a deep, dull ache at the back of his neck.

His gaze settled on the campfire a short distance away, and slowly, his memory began to return. He had been struck unconscious in the alley.

That girl… had tricked him?

“Chief, the kid’s awake.”

Startled by the voice, Lian Ai turned his head and saw two burly men seated by the fire. One of them, shorter and stockier, got up and walked toward him.

“This one has delicate skin,” the short man said, dragging a rough hand across Lian Ai’s cheek in a mocking, lewd manner.

Lian Ai turned his face away, trying to hide his fear. “Who are you? Do you know who I am?”

He had intended to mention the General’s Estate, hoping the name would intimidate them. But the short man exchanged a glance with his leader and both burst into laughter.

“Aren’t you that General Bu’s little plaything?” The man suddenly pulled out a dagger and waved it in front of his face. “Your general offended the princess. She can’t touch him, so you’re the unlucky one who gets to pay the price.”

The flash of the blade made Lian Ai dizzy. He froze, unable to move, and forced out his words. “What are you going to do?”

The man’s face lit up with excitement. A twisted gleam surfaced in his eyes. “The princess told us to rape you first, then kill you. Then hang your body upside down from a tree so the General’s people can see what’s left of you.” He licked his lips as he spoke.

Just hearing those words made Lian Ai’s entire body go cold. He couldn’t understand how someone could be this cruel.

His voice trembled. “The General… won’t let you get away with this.”

The man didn’t seem to care. “We’ve been living like fugitives for years. Live today, die tomorrow. Besides.” He pressed the blade of the dagger against Lian Ai’s pale neck, then slowly drew it downward, slicing open the front of his robe. “If I die fucking a beauty, I’ll still die satisfied.”

The blade moved down to the rope around Lian Ai’s wrists. With a quick pull, it split open. He continued to cut through the ropes at his ankles.

The man called Chief frowned. His tone held no approval. “Why are you untying him? What if he runs?”

The short man sneered. “Look at him. Skinny arms and legs. Does he look like he can run? You want me to fuck him like that, all tied up? I like it when they squirm.”

Lian Ai didn’t try to run. He knew he wouldn’t make it two steps before being caught.

His sleeve bolt was still there. They either hadn’t checked him in their rush or didn’t think a bedslave could pose any threat, just like that Daoist Ji Yuan.

“Please, sir. Please don’t kill me.” Lian Ai’s voice trembled. He was only waiting for the right moment.

“That depends on how well you serve me.” The short man grinned. One hand pressed the dagger to Lian Ai’s face while the other slid down his body, tugging at the knot on his undergarments.

He was frantic, desperate to tear him open. But the knot wouldn’t budge. The more impatient he became, the worse it got. He cursed under his breath and looked down.

Lian Ai struck.

A bolt flew out and pierced straight through the man’s eye.

The scream tore through the woods. The short man clutched at his bleeding face and howled. The dagger swung wildly and left a gash across Lian Ai’s forehead.

Lian Ai jumped up and ran. He ignored the pain and blood and rushed into the night with all the strength he had.

The other man had turned away, unwilling to watch his companion’s filth. He had shut his eyes in disgust, intending to rest. At the scream, he thought it came from the catamite. But something about it didn’t sound right. He spun around and leapt toward his companion.

Too late.

The bolt pierced through the short man’s eye and into his brain. He was as good as dead. The chief stood there, stunned. Shock and regret slammed into him.

He had underestimated that little catamite.

Lian Ai disappeared into the dark. He had no idea where he was or how to return to the capital.

He stumbled and fell hard. His vision blurred, as if something had smeared over his eyes. When he wiped at it with his hand, all he felt was warm, sticky liquid. His fingers touched his forehead. The moment they brushed the torn, curling flesh, he jerked his hand away in fright. He didn’t dare imagine what his face looked like now.

Behind him, footsteps suddenly closed in. A flame appeared in the dark.

“Where do you think you’re running, you little slut!” The chief had caught up.

Lian Ai didn’t dare delay a second longer. He scrambled to his feet and ran for his life.

That flicker of fire behind him chased him like a death spirit in white. It kept getting closer no matter how hard he tried to shake it.

Suddenly, his foot slipped. His balance gave out, and he tumbled down the slope.

He rolled and rolled, unable to stop himself. Stones struck his body again and again. He hadn’t even felt the first impact when the next one came.

By the time he hit the hollow at the bottom of the slope, it felt like every bone in his body had shattered. Worse still, his left elbow had dislocated during the fall. His arm hung loose at his side, and the pain where the bones had separated made him nearly black out.

“Ugh…” Lian Ai gritted his teeth and tried to bear it, but still a groan of pain slipped out between clenched jaws.

His clothes were quickly soaked through with cold sweat. Before he could even catch his breath, a flickering light appeared overhead once more. Someone was standing near the ridge, looking down with a torch.

Fear and pain tangled in his chest. He could almost hear the chattering of his own teeth. He forced himself to stay silent, terrified that even the slightest sound might draw attention.

At last, the firelight moved away. The death sentence hovering above his head had, for now, been lifted.

His body slackened all at once, and the pain in his arm surged. He grabbed the swollen joint with his other hand and forced himself to stand, staggering in the opposite direction of the torchlight.

He walked, then kept walking. At some point, his body began to shake and sob without his consent.

He had killed someone tonight, been wounded, and was now lost in a pitch-black forest. He was afraid. Terrified. Never before had he longed for the capital, the General’s estate, or even Bu Nian as much as he did now.

He hastily wiped the blood and tears from his face with his sleeve, pulled out the peace-lock from his chest, and clutched it tightly in his palm, as if holding it could somehow give him boundless courage.

Dark clouds pressed low in the sky. It looked as if it could rain at any moment.

—

Song Qiao dismounted and entered the General’s Estate in haste, heading straight to Bu Nian’s study.

Bu Nian set the book aside and looked at him in silence.

Song Qiao cupped his fists and bowed. “It has been confirmed. That common girl was acting under threat from Princess Fuqu. Her father is addicted to gambling and was tricked into owing a debt of one hundred taels. The princess used this to threaten her and made her put on an act in front of Mister Lian Ai during the temple fair. The two guards were also separated from him on purpose. They were moved away by the princess’s people to ensure he would be taken without fail.”

After reporting, he paused. Bu Nian remained still. Song Qiao had no idea what he was thinking, so he continued.

“Princess Fuqu left the temple in secret and returned to the capital. She has already entered the palace. Most likely, she is hiding with the Empress Dowager.”

Bu Nian’s expression remained calm. He tossed the book onto the table, picked up the teacup beside him, and raised it to his lips. “Clever move.”

Song Qiao asked, “General, should we go to the palace and request an audience with His Majesty?”

“For what?” Bu Nian replied.

The question caught Song Qiao off guard. He did not know how to respond.

“If we do not learn where Mister Lian Ai is soon, I fear it may be too late. Something may happen to him.”

Bu Nian took another sip of tea and turned to look out the window at the overcast sky. Thunder rolled deep in the clouds. Just as Lian Ai had said, there would be more rain before spring.

“With Fuqu’s mind, she could never have come up with something this thorough. Taking someone from right under my nose, then running into the palace to seek protection from the Empress Dowager. Do you really think she is capable of that?”

Only then did Song Qiao sense something was wrong. Princess Fuqu had always been reckless and arrogant. If she were not, she would never have dared drug the general. This kind of careful planning did not sound like her at all.

“You mean someone used her to carry this out? But why? They couldn’t possibly bear a personal grudge against Mister Lian Ai.”

Bu Nian saw he had followed the logic far enough. There was no need to keep him guessing.

“They want to push me into conflict with the Empress Dowager. The best outcome would be a complete fallout. Then she will make up her mind to eliminate me, just like she did with my father.”

Song Qiao froze. He had considered many possibilities, but none this dangerous. At this point, every step had to be taken with care. There could be no room for error.

He felt a cold weight settle in his chest. Thinking of Lian Ai, his voice grew heavy. “Then what about…..”

Bu Nian set the teacup down and slowly rubbed the rim with his fingers. His face showed no expression. “Besides, knowing it’s a trap, should I still walk into it?” His voice was calm, carrying a quiet indifference. Almost cold-blooded. “He’s just a bedslave. I spoil him, and even if I go too far, others will only think I’m heartsick and obsessed with men. But if I mobilize troops, fall out with the Empress Dowager, and defy the Emperor just to find him, then what does that make him? And what does that make me?”

He frowned and said, “If the world must see me as something, let it be a man who chose to fall, not a lovestruck fool.”

Song Qiao began to understand. What the General had always needed was a cover, not a weakness. Regardless of whether Lian Ai was truly just a bedslave in his eyes, the moment Bu Nian figured out the stakes, he had already made his choice.

In the end, for the sake of his greater cause, there was nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice.

Song Qiao felt a pang of sorrow, but he dared not let any of it show.

“Yes, I understand.”

Bu Nian said nothing more. He waved his hand. “Go. Bring Bai Shu to me.”

At the mention of that name, a thought stirred faintly in Song Qiao’s mind. He gave a respectful bow and left the study.

The rain fell in fine, steady threads, thick with moisture.

The room sank into silence, broken only by the soft sound of Bu Nian’s breathing.

Suddenly, his fingers curled, and the teacup shattered in his palm. Amber tea spilled across the table, streaked with blood from the shards that had cut into his palm.

—

Heavy rain poured over the mountain roads, turning the earth to sludge. Deep in the forest, a decayed old tree stood like a corpse. At the base was a hollow, not too big or too small. No one could tell if it had formed naturally or been hollowed out by something later. It was just enough for one person to take shelter from the rain.

Lian Ai was soaked through. He sat curled in the hollow, knees drawn to his chest, shivering violently. His face, pale as paper from pain and cold, had lost all trace of color.

The dislocated elbow had swollen even more after a night of exposure. He had tried to fix it himself, but aside from making the pain worse, he hadn’t a clue what he was doing.

Exhausted and starving, he was only standing on the last thread of his will to survive. Without it, he would have collapsed and never gotten up again.

Rain pooled along the edge of the hollow and trickled down like a curtain of water. He reached out, caught some in his hand, and brought it to his lips to slowly lick, easing the gnawing hunger and thirst in his belly.

The place couldn’t be far from the capital. If they intended for the General’s people to find his corpse, they wouldn’t have chosen somewhere too remote.

He leaned against the wall of the tree. The air was heavy with the scent of rot. He had smelled it for so long, it now seemed to be coming from his own body. The smell of death.

“I have to live… I have to live…” He gripped the peace-lock at his chest and murmured the words over and over.