Chapter Seventy-Four: Deep Within the Woods

Update time: July 5, 2013

When Meng Chuchen walked in, he saw her holding a blue porcelain bottle as if it were a treasure, examining it closely. He didn’t even need to guess—this must be Aunt Lan’s latest medicinal concoction, who knows how many birds had perished in its making.

“Aunt Lan, I’ll be leaving Phoenix Ridge for a while. Yue’er was abducted on her way to Nanping, and I’ll need you to take care of matters within the sect.”

“Which faction would dare such a thing?” Anger swept across Meng Lan’s face. After all, Lian Yue and her mother—Meng Lan’s junior disciple sister—looked almost identical. Meng Lan loved her dearly, treating her as her own daughter and indulging her every wish.

Now, hearing that Lian Yue had encountered trouble, one could imagine her reaction.

“We don’t know yet, the investigation is ongoing.”

Meng Lan was well aware of the special bond between these twins. She turned and took a white porcelain bottle from the medicine shelf behind her, then handed both the white and blue bottles to Meng Chuchen. “The white bottle contains the Face-Changing Pill. The blue one is the successful Shape-Shifting Pill. Its effects are still uncertain. I’ll handle things here at the Hidden Sect for now, you should set off immediately.”

Meng Chuchen reached out to take the two bottles, somewhat surprised that Aunt Lan had truly managed to develop the Shape-Shifting Pill. She had crafted it specifically for him; after all, disguises always had flaws, and he couldn’t possibly parade around town with the face of Lady Yue.

“Thank you, Aunt Lan!”

“Enough, hurry and go. Remember to bring Yue’er and Yaoyao back with you. When you return, make arrangements for your marriage to Yaoyao as well.” Though Meng Lan never left the Herb Garden, she was still well informed about his affairs, especially these past few days—she knew Meng Chuchen’s mood had been unusually volatile.

Meng Chuchen walked out of the Herb Garden, embarrassed, but resolved in his heart: once he found Lian Yue, he would see to this matter, accompanying her wherever she wished to go.

Had Meng Chuchen known that his Yaoyao had been neglected, lying on the grass all night and now burning with fever, he might have reacted very differently.

Meanwhile, Lian Yue, following behind Yu Wen Lingxi through the woods, had no idea that her doting elder brother was risking his life, inching his way along the cliff face.

Her second brother was already racing toward her without pause.

Her good friend had been so frightened she’d fainted, though the fever played a part in that.

Most unexpected of all, the prince she’d always thought of as a frivolous dandy was now only three feet away from her brother, cold sweat pouring down after a misstep. His long, almond-shaped eyes had lost their usual teasing look, replaced by an unspeakable firmness.

While she slept, Thirteen, who had already checked in with Yu Wen Lingxi, had just returned to the top of the cliff, wasting not a moment as he avoided the searchers and hurried toward their rendezvous.

She was also unaware that in Bluestone Alley in Heluo Prefecture, a predecessor with similar misfortune would, in a few hours, be forced onto a new journey of escape.

All she knew was that she deeply regretted following An Ming into the woods. If pursuers weren’t closing in behind, she truly wished she could turn around at once and head back.

The deeper she went, the thicker the trees became. She’d just struggled over a moss-covered root as thick as a person’s waist. Along the way, she’d encountered three pythons—if not for An Ming slicing off the head of one with a sword, she’d have mistaken it for a vine.

She had also seen rats the size of rabbits, spiders as large as her palm—utterly terrifying.

If not for someone clearing the path ahead, she had no idea how many times she might have died already (from fright).

As a direct result, Lian Yue grew more and more impressed with An Ming, relying on him ever more, as evidenced by the way she clung to his sleeve.

Poor Forty-Seven, wanting to keep Lian Yue from noticing anything odd, could only leap from tree to tree like a monkey, drawing away the larger beasts. The creatures Lian Yue feared were, to him, not dangerous in the least—he simply ignored them.

If he knew that Yu Wen Lingxi had already made note of this and planned to assign him more challenging tasks for training once they got out, he’d probably have cleared out even the ants along the way.

When Yu Wen Lingxi’s sword struck down the fourth python, Lian Yue finally couldn’t hold back. “Isn’t there any other way? This forest is too frightening!”

Behind the mask, Yu Wen Lingxi’s face was full of guilt. He hadn’t expected the woods to be like this, but he was familiar with such environments—he’d once spent three months in a place just like this. “With me here, nothing will harm you. Survival in these woods is one of the trials for people like me.”

Lian Yue’s curiosity was piqued. She looked at his back and asked, “How long did you have to stay in the woods for your trial?”

Yu Wen Lingxi used his sword to clear away obstructing branches, answering calmly, “Three months.”

Lian Yue’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re not lying, are you? How old were you then—seven, eight, or nine?” She felt the methods of the Rakshasa Hall were far too cruel. Her heart was not only shocked, but also aching. Yes, this man before her made her heart ache, though they’d only spent less than a day together.

“Eight.” Yu Wen Lingxi paused, acknowledging that the boy in the story was himself. “There were sixty-two of us thrown into the woods, only forty survived.”

So cruel! Far too cruel! Was the forest really so terrifying? Lian Yue glanced around, imagining countless eyes watching her from behind the trees, ready to pounce if she let her guard down. She shivered, tightening her grip on Yu Wen Lingxi’s sleeve.

Just as one crisis passed, another arose—when would her fragile life ever find peace?

Yu Wen Lingxi sensed her fear and slowed his pace, his gaze sweeping the surroundings. Every sizeable insect or animal was dealt with before she could encounter it.

In these woods, the most fearsome creatures weren’t the visible ones but the predators lurking in the shadows. If it had been only the two of them, Yu Wen Lingxi would have turned back without hesitation; he would never let Lian Yue take such a risk.

Today, caution was needed. For now, the only hidden threat was Forty-Seven, but by tomorrow, Thirteen would surely arrive with others in pursuit.

No sunlight penetrated the forest. Estimating the time, Yu Wen Lingxi found a relatively clear patch of ground and stopped. “Let’s rest here for a while and regain our strength before moving on.”

“Alright.” Lian Yue released his sleeve, glanced at the nearby grass, and finally dared sit on a rock at her feet, terrified that a scorpion or spider might leap out from the undergrowth.

Seeing her state, Yu Wen Lingxi knew the earlier encounters had scared her badly—she probably hadn’t seen so many frightening creatures at once in her life.

Though he felt for her, he knew that in such places, these creatures thrived. Exposure would eventually breed familiarity, as it had for him. In the end, he’d looked upon them with shining eyes—they were terrifying but also the best source of nutrition.

But for now, with him here, he’d never let Lian Yue eat them. Yu Wen Lingxi quickly gathered dry branches and leaves nearby and, with practiced skill, lit a fire.

With nothing else to do, Lian Yue began marking the tree trunks beside her. She firmly believed that if her brother knew she had fallen, he would find a way to descend to the bottom of the cliff. She had to leave something to show him her direction, and let him know she was still alive.

Yu Wen Lingxi paid no heed to her actions, nor did he try to dissuade her, though he knew Thirteen would surely erase each mark. Nevertheless, it would at least give Lian Yue some comfort.

Hope and expectation were the only antidotes to despair.

Sometimes, Yu Wen Lingxi truly envied her—so many people cared deeply about her every move, clearing all obstacles for her. Not like himself; even if someone cared for him, it was only to ascertain whether he was alive or dead.