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墨書 Inktalez
Handing the prince's private seal to a Kun Ze he had only known for two days, and one who was still in the Differentiation Period, was not a decision Xiao Feng made lightly.
The deployment of the Dark Guard at the border of Cangzhou and Lan Prefecture had been leaked to unknown assailants. What was supposed to be a secret handover at the inn turned into a bloody ambush filled with assassins. Fortunately, the guards he brought were elite warriors carefully chosen; after a fierce battle, he managed to escape with his life from the onslaught of blades and arrows.
When he regained consciousness, Xiao Feng thought he was seeing things. The one who saved him was a Kun Ze.
As the prince of the Heavenly Enlightenment Dynasty, he had been taught from a young age that Kun Ze were parasitic beings reliant on Tian Qian for survival, and he had always looked down upon such people.
However, the Kun Ze before him was entirely different. Covered in mud and grass, with a bewildered gaze like that of a deer, he seemed completely unaware that he was in the Differentiation Period. His every move exuded an unrefined wildness that contrasted sharply with the affected nobles of the capital.
At this moment, Xiao Feng was severely injured and unable to move. Duan Ren lay three steps away, leaving him to lean against the crumbling wall of the Mountain God Temple, gasping for breath. The Kun Ze squatted in front of him, nervously twisting the hem of his garment, with a blood-stopping cloth wrapped around his wrist—torn from his own sleeve.
Xiao Feng stared at the trembling eyelashes of the boy and suddenly remembered the private seal hidden in his dark pouch.
"Take this to General He Mu Ming," he said, tearing off a jade token from his waist and pressing it into the boy's palm. "He will take you to Cangzhou Military Camp."
The Hidden Fragrance Pill was his last lifeline.
Watching as the Kun Ze tilted his head back to swallow the Hidden Fragrance Pill, Xiao Feng noticed how his Adam's apple bobbed in his pale neck. It struck him that this child might not even be aware of his own Xin Xiang. Normally, Kun Ze in their Differentiation Period would be cared for by their families, yet this one wandered alone in the wilderness, dressed in patched rough cloth and caked in mud from a rainy night.
Giving all of his Hidden Fragrance Pills to this Kun Ze was also meant to prevent any unnecessary trouble regarding his Xin Xiang at Military Camp. Originally, he thought that traveling from this Mountain God Temple to General He Mu Ming's Military Camp would only take him two days at most; yet here he was waiting three days without seeing anyone.
The remaining food and water were running low, and to make matters worse, a beggar had arrived at the Mountain God Temple.
On any other day, he wouldn’t have given such people a second glance, but now he wished to avoid them at all costs.
Injured and with an inflamed wound causing him feverish discomfort, he wondered how much longer he could hold out. Was it true that their Heavenly Enlightenment Dynasty would come to an end in his generation?
His father had been obsessed with alchemy, neglecting his health. Aside from him—born early as the legitimate son of both the emperor and empress—all other sons born to concubines had perished. Physicians had advised his father against this obsession, but an emperor who believed in elixirs for immortality had become delusional; how could he trust their earnest words? Thus, those physicians were executed, leaving no one brave enough to speak out again.
Hiding behind the Mountain God Statue, he prayed for the beggar to leave quickly. However, contrary to his wishes, the beggar spotted him and caught wind of food on him.
With eyes as red as a beast’s, the man fixed his gaze on Xiao Feng and let out a low growl of hunger from deep within his throat.
“Damn it!”
It was clearly a human, yet the crimson eyes were more terrifying than those of a beast. Remembering the sights he had encountered on his journey away from the capital, it was hard not to guess that this beggar saw him as food.
The beggar reeked of filth, his eyes glowing eerily as he approached step by step.
Xiao Feng gripped tightly onto the Duan Ren hidden by his side, waiting for the beggar to come closer so he could strike him down in one blow. Fortunately, his skills in archery and horsemanship had not dulled over the years. The beggar stumbled forward and directly collided with Xiao Feng's Duan Ren, dying instantly.
Warm blood splattered onto his sleeve, and when the heavy corpse fell upon him, he found he lacked the strength to push it away.
With great effort, Xiao Feng finally managed to shove the body off him and leaned against the wall, dazed as he stood up. Just as he was about to take a moment to rest, a loud rumble echoed through the air; suddenly, the base of the wall collapsed. Caught off guard, Xiao Feng tumbled through the crevice and rolled down the steep slope behind the Mountain God Temple.
...
“Zhi Sheng, where are you going?”
As dawn broke, the villagers began their daily tasks, heading up the mountain to clear weeds from their fields before the sun became too hot.
Zhi Sheng's parents had passed away early, leaving him to fend for himself. His fields were far away, so naturally, the villagers looked out for him and often greeted him when they saw him.
“I’m going up the mountain to clear weeds. The wild vegetables are coming up lately; I’ll pick some to make wild vegetable buns.” Zhi Sheng smiled and exchanged pleasantries with his neighbors before heading straight up the mountain. His fields were not in good condition and required more time and effort to tend to than usual.
The mountain path wound its way upward as Zhi Sheng’s cloth shoes crunched on the dewy grass. Suddenly, he stopped in front of a dirt slope.
Before him lay vines torn apart haphazardly, with deep drag marks in the soil leading straight down to the cliff’s edge. Seeing his field in disarray, he hoisted his hoe and struck at the slope several times; a series of vines were severed, and he pulled out a large bundle.
Just as Zhi Sheng was about to toss these weeds aside, a sudden noise caught his attention—a person rolled down right in front of him, landing at his feet.
Zhi Sheng was stunned.
He looked left and right; this made no sense. Beyond this slope was just a cliff; one could only ascend by going around this side of the mountain. Moreover, rolling down from such a height—could this be a dead person?
Holding onto the bundle of weeds for quite some time, Zhi Sheng's thoughts finally returned when a grasshopper leaped past his eyes.
Throwing the bundle of weeds aside, Zhi Sheng shook his hands and gently placed his mud-covered palms near Xiao Feng's nose to check for breath. Fortunately, the man was still alive; it wasn't as if he had dug up a corpse with a single swing of the hoe.
Perhaps it was the abundance of vines on the cliff that had saved this man’s life. However, as Zhi Sheng scanned the area, he noticed a large patch of blood at the back of the man's head and bloodstains on his chest. After brushing aside the man's disheveled hair, Zhi Sheng was taken aback. This man was remarkably handsome, with features as delicate and striking as those of a traditional Chinese doll.
The man's forehead was burning hot, indicating a fever; there was no time to waste.
With that thought, Zhi Sheng tossed the hoe to the ground, hoisted the man onto his back, and dashed down the mountain. On his way, he encountered villagers heading up the hill and managed to shout out, “Keep an eye on my hoe, Lin Ye Ge.” Without waiting for any questions about who he was carrying, he hurriedly made his way to Zhuang Daifu's house, where someone in the village knew a bit about medicine.
Zhuang Daifu was enjoying the sun in his yard when suddenly his gate swung open. In the countryside, people rarely bothered to close their doors; neighbors were few and often dropped by unannounced.
“Zhuang Daifu! Come quickly, this man is about to die!” Zhi Sheng shouted as he entered.
Hearing the commotion, Zhuang Daifu's fan slipped from his face, instantly waking him up. He stretched lazily and turned to look at Zhi Sheng. He saw that Zhi Sheng was carrying someone on his back—clad entirely in black—which didn't seem like a good sign.
But saving a life was paramount. After laying the man on a couch, Zhuang Daifu checked his pulse and then asked, “Do you know this person?”
In a village with only a few hundred residents, it was hard not to recognize someone.
Zhi Sheng shook his head. “I found him on the back mountain; he must have fallen from that Ruined Mountain Temple.”
“Fallen?” Zhuang Daifu pulled open Xiao Feng's collar and saw two or three knife wounds on his chest. If it weren't for Tian Qian's robust physique and the cushioning effect of the vines on the cliff, this man would likely have already lost his last breath.
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