Chapter 35

Zhao Ti saw the sword barely a foot from his body; the girl’s eyes held a cold glint as she leaned back: “Where did I lie?”

“You’re not from Dali!”

Zhao Ti immediately smiled: “Where did I ever say I was from Dali? I’m from Great Song—I came out to travel, heard Dali’s scenery was fine, so I came to visit.”

The girl’s sword remained still: “Where in Great Song are you from?”

Zhao Ti thought: If I say Suzhou, she’ll stab me right now—even though you’d need a hundred chances to hit me, one chance from me and you’re dead—but how could I say that?

He said: “I’m from Dongjing.”

The girl showed a flicker of doubt: “The capital of Great Song?”

Zhao Ti nodded: “Of course the capital—have you been there?”

The girl slowly sheathed her sword: “I haven’t been, but your accent really doesn’t sound like…”

“Like what?”

The girl snorted: “Why do you have so many words?”

Zhao Ti spread his hands: “You told me to leave, and if I don’t, you’ll kill me. You won’t let me out, but as soon as I step out, you draw blades—what am I supposed to do now?”

The girl studied him for a moment: “Even if I don’t kill you, staying here will cost you your life.”

Zhao Ti said: “What do you mean?”

The girl said coolly: “Once they break in, not a blade of grass or twig in this courtyard will be spared—let alone a living man.”

Zhao Ti smiled: “So either way I die? Since I can’t get out with all those people outside, I might as well stay.”

The girl glanced at him, then fell silent, standing motionless facing the courtyard gate—but no one outside dared enter, not even a head to peek.

Zhao Ti knew the outsiders feared Mu Wanching’s sleeve darts—quick, vicious, coated in deadly poison; even a scratch would mean death.

After a while, Zhao Ti said: “It’s not yet night; when darkness falls, they’ll surely storm in—but then, escaping might be easier.”

The girl said: “You want to escape at night? There are ambushes all around—darkness favors them, you’re exposed. Isn’t that just asking to be killed? I think daylight’s better.”

Zhao Ti rubbed his forehead: “Then why don’t you leave now?”

The girl sneered: “Say one more word and I won’t kill you myself—I’ll just throw you out that gate and let them do it!”

Zhao Ti sighed: “Fine, I won’t speak. I’ll wait till night to leave.” He rose and headed for the stable.

The girl shouted: “Where are you going?”

Zhao Ti said: “I like that horse—I just want to look at it a bit longer.”

The girl said: “You’re not going anywhere. Even if you’re not with them, you’re not necessarily good—even if you are good, I’ll kill you anyway!”

Zhao Ti sighed and sat still. The girl stood with sword drawn, facing the gate, as dusk slowly deepened. The maid crept forward cautiously: “Miss, I’ll go prepare some food.”

The girl said: “Be careful.”

Zhao Ti added: “Being careful won’t help. This courtyard’s large enough—if they climb the walls after dark, which side can you guard?”

The girl’s face beneath her veil paled; she said nothing for a long while.

Zhao Ti, unable to see her expression, asked: “Don’t you have any friends who’ll come to help?”

The maid whispered: “Miss, the valley…”

The girl cut in: “Don’t say it. Don’t prepare anything—just get some dried rations and clear water.”

The maid nodded and hurried away.

Zhao Ti, bored, activated his Illusion Sound Qi, and his aura subtly turned ethereal and soft.

The girl suddenly said: “Are you very skilled in martial arts?”

Zhao Ti thought a moment: “Flourishes and showy moves—pretty to watch, but not worthy of true mastery.”

The girl sneered: “At least you have some self-awareness. When night falls and I leave, what will you do?”

Zhao Ti said: “I’ll leave with you.”

The girl snorted: “I knew you’d think of that—seeing my horse, you want me to carry you out of the siege! Earlier, you were heading toward the stable, weren’t you? Trying to steal the horse and run?”

Zhao Ti nodded: “Yes.”

The girl paused, then murmured: “Why admit it?”

Zhao Ti smiled: “Why not? In crisis, honesty is the only way to survive. If I lied, it’d breed distrust—and that’d hurt us now.”

“And if it weren’t a crisis… you’d lie?” The girl’s voice turned icy.

“Yes,” Zhao Ti said.

“Then why admit that too?” The girl’s tone shifted again; her dark, ink-like eyes fixed on Zhao Ti.

“It’s human nature to avoid danger. If it weren’t urgent, stealing the horse would let me escape. If you caught me and asked, and I told the truth, you’d kill me with one sword thrust.” Zhao Ti smiled.

The girl’s sword pointed at Zhao Ti again: “I hate liars. I can’t keep you alive. I’ll kill you now—before you betray us during the breakout. Since you admit you lie, I won’t believe a single word you’ve said.”

Zhao Ti thought: You don’t hate liars—you hate all men. Didn’t your master Qin Hongmian say every man in the world is heartless and faithless?

He said: “Have you never lied?”

The girl hesitated, then recalled: She had lied—when she was young, playing too long in the mountains and fearing her master’s scolding, she’d made excuses. Even her master had lied: just recently, on her way to Suzhou to kill the Wang woman, she’d told few truths to outsiders.

But she wouldn’t admit it now: “I haven’t!”

Zhao Ti smiled silently, watching the sky turn dusk. The setting sun blazed crimson, spilling light over the courtyard in red and gold—even the girl’s hair tips glowed that hue, strangely beautiful.

Seeing Zhao Ti admiring the scenery, the girl’s anger flared. Her sword trembled—she’d teach him a lesson. But just then, a scream came from the inner courtyard—it was the maid’s voice.

“They’ve moved…” Zhao Ti frowned.

The girl said nothing, sheathed her sword, and rushed toward the back.

Zhao Ti rose and followed slowly. Guarding here was useless—it wasn’t a narrow pass where one man could hold off a thousand. He couldn’t fathom what Mu Wanching was thinking.

At the inner courtyard’s door, they found the maid lying dead beside the stone path. Two men in martial garb lay nearby, each pierced through vital points—dead.

The girl wiped her sword, seeing him approach: “Aren’t you going to save yourself?”

Zhao Ti glanced toward the courtyard gate: “Too many outside. Leaving now is suicide. Wait till it’s fully dark.”

The girl fell silent: “You were right—they’re coming under cover of night.”

Zhao Ti shook his head: “They came sooner than expected.”

The girl glanced at him, then entered the inner hall and lit the lanterns, casting flickering shadows.

Zhao Ti followed: “Why light the lamps? Aren’t you giving them an easy target?”

The girl snapped: “I knew you’d come in! Do you want me to be alone with you in the dark? Better to kill you now than waste time thinking!”

Zhao Ti said: “You speak harshly, but I know you’re not one who kills innocents.”

The girl studied him a long moment, then sneered and sat in a chair inside.

Zhao Ti surveyed the hall—it was spacious, stretching long east to west. He walked over, took a fruit from the ornamental table, and ate it.

After finishing, he sat down, closed his eyes, and rested.

Time passed. Night fell completely. Outside, only wind stirred through the windows; not a single insect chirped—the atmosphere grew deep and still.

Moments later, sounds rose from all sides—too many to count. After ten breaths, they drew nearer, as if already beneath the windows.