Chapter Fifty-Two: Whose Prey

After waking up this time, she found it impossible to fall asleep again. Leaning against the carriage’s wooden wall, she was surrounded by a profound silence, her world shrouded in the darkness of night.

After a long while, there seemed to be faint unrest in the quiet surroundings of the abandoned temple. The wind rustled through the trees, making the forest seem uneasy.

A group of people quietly approached the ruined temple, entering separately and searching for something. He stood before the dilapidated building, feeling the vast silence that enveloped the place.

This was where she had stayed just moments ago…

Like her in some ways, it was far too quiet.

He stepped inside. There were only a few places suitable for shelter, all cramped and filthy. Was it here that his Xue’er had rested before moving on?

He narrowed his eyes, a probing light flickering in their depths.

“Master, the shadow guards report that before we arrived, another suspicious group was here as well. They seemed to be searching for someone—or, more precisely, watching someone.” Qinghe came up behind him to report.

“Then follow them,” he replied, standing in a corner, eyes contemplating the shattered walls.

The shadow guards melted into the darkness, but he remained, a solitary, cool figure in the night, his robe blending almost seamlessly into the gloom.

At the inn.

The accompanying guards had tidied up the small courtyard, even hauling out an old stone table from the corner and scrubbing it clean. They set out steaming tea atop it, though the teaware was rough. Still, the enticing aroma of the tea—a subtle, elegant fragrance—made up for it.

The man, as fair as a flower spirit, sat beside the stone table, every gesture marked with ease and refinement. His eyes were lowered, profile flawless, long hair nearly touching the ground, the blurred shadow cast behind him tinged with the same graceful poise, making it impossible not to be transfixed by his charm.

“Drinking alone under the moon—do you have something on your mind?” Gongshen Ling’er strolled over, asking carelessly.

She took a seat across from Zuo Qiu Liye, undaunted by the air of danger that clung to him, and poured herself a cup of tea.

“Chingming tea from the Kingdom of Wu is always the sweetest and most delicious. No wonder the lord is so fond of it.” She inhaled the aroma, her movements tranquil and refined.

“Where did the woman you encountered at the inn go?” Zuo Qiu Liye ignored her previous comment, glancing up at the now luminous moonlight. Moments ago, clouds had obscured the sky, but now the moon shone in full.

“I don’t know.” She hadn’t paid much attention to the woman, so she couldn’t say when or why she’d left. Still, “Could she be the mysterious woman you’ve been searching for?”

Gongshen Ling’er was surprised by his question, raising her eyes to study him, a hint of doubt and disbelief clouding her delicate features.

Zuo Qiu Liye sipped his tea, unwilling to answer.

“Fine, I get it. But that woman didn’t seem out of the ordinary—her eyes, I mean. She didn’t look at all like a blind girl.” Her impression of Xuexue was faint and unremarkable.

“Ling’er, haven’t your elders ever told you not to trust everything your eyes see?” Zuo Qiu Liye chuckled softly.

If she were so easily seen through, she wouldn’t be the little Xue who had caught his eye.

“She was deliberately misleading us,” Gongshen Ling’er muttered, her expression shifting.

She’d been deceived by a blind girl—or rather, she’d failed to notice what was different about her, dismissing her as ordinary. Such a woman—well, she could look forward to their next encounter.

“My lord, I found something suspicious in the ruined temple,” Yunwu reported, placing a pile of broken stones on the ground. The fragments were scattered, some ground to sand, nothing seemingly out of the ordinary—just regular stones. But among them was a piece of cloth, coarse linen stained with dust.

“Master, this looks familiar,” Feiyi murmured, her expression odd.

“Indeed—it looks like a statue…” Qingshu remarked uncertainly. “And the clothing resembles that of the woman’s coachman. I recall he was dressed just like this.”

“Did you look carefully?” Gongshen Ling’er asked. This matter was significant—if the debris belonged to that blind girl’s coachman, then…

“Yes, young mistress.” Both Feiyi and Qingshu nodded gravely.

While the three pondered, Zuo Qiu Liye had already risen. He walked over, picked up a piece of stone, unconcerned that the dust would soil his hands or clothes.

“This was broken apart, but not by brute force, nor by inner strength. It was a deft technique.” As he spoke, his slender fingers quickly reassembled the fragments, and soon a man-sized statue stood before them.

The tattered clothing was draped loosely over it, making for a strange sight.

“No wonder the coachman was so tightly wrapped up, never showing his face,” Feiyi marveled, filled with awe.

Though human-shaped puppets were not uncommon in the Kingdom of Wu, the woman had seemed frail, timid, and fearful—who would have thought she was such a master of hidden arts?

“Congratulations, my lord. You’ve finally found the right person,” Gongshen Ling’er exclaimed, clicking her tongue in admiration. “But that woman’s whereabouts are unknown. With her wit, she’ll likely slip from your grasp.”

She shifted her tone, her gaze full of amusement.

“I have my own plans. As for you—return to Wu. Don’t get in the way,” Zuo Qiu Liye replied. His words were gentle, but to Gongshen Ling’er they sounded full of disdain.

“I am still the young mistress of Wu. I can be of use to you. Besides, I’d like to see that woman again—perhaps this time I’ll spot what makes her so different.” Gongshen Ling’er persisted.

Feiyi and Qingshu, hearing their mistress speak so bluntly to the lord, broke into cold sweat. In this world, perhaps only their mistress would dare refuse the lord’s orders so calmly.

“With those old men backing her, Ling’er has plenty of confidence.” His tone carried a hint of danger, yet his voice was as soft as a hot spring, flowing gently.

“And didn’t the lord himself rise with the elders’ support?” Gongshen Ling’er retorted, refusing to back down.

At her words, silence fell over the courtyard. Feiyi and Qingshu dared not even breathe, anxious for their mistress. Everyone knew that topic was the lord’s sore spot…

As expected, Zuo Qiu Liye’s expression shifted, his smile ambiguous, his alluring face unreadable.

“And how can you be sure they’re unaware of your true purpose here? That your goal is King Ji—Ji Wuqing.”

As night gave way to dawn and the soft sunlight warmed the earth, a young woman led a horse-drawn cart along a mountain path. She was clad in simple clothes, her long hair fastened in a plain bun—a picture of a neighbor girl traveling the road.

Yet, she was different.

Her appearance was serene and understated, her gentle features glowing like a lotus blooming in the sun—pure white, with a striking touch of red.

As sunlight spilled across her face, her lips curved in a rare, contented smile. It had been so long since she’d felt so at ease—it was a precious thing.

She continued on, passing through a small village in the midst of a bustling market. Hastily, she disguised herself, adopting the wide-eyed innocence of a young maiden in her prime.

After selling the horse and cart, she finally had some money in hand. She bought a simple set of clothes and some food, so she looked far less bedraggled.

Once fed, she sought a place to rest.

The sun was just right that day. She found a patch of lush grass, warm in the gentle light. Spreading her old outer garment on the ground, she lay down.

The earth was her bed, sunlight her quilt, and the air was sweet with the scent of fresh grass. There was no sign of danger for miles around. Though the peace would be brief, it was good enough.

A faint, tranquil smile curved her lips—so easily satisfied.

But quietly, something crept closer, rustling through the brambles, running towards her. The shouts of children echoed, mischievous and wild. “Catch it! Don’t let it get away!”

The children chased after the creature, flinging stones and wielding makeshift slingshots.

“It’s fast! Throw the stones!” The children’s shouts grew louder as they drew near, and inevitably, her fleeting good mood was scattered to the wind.

So much for a moment’s peace—

But the little creature they pursued had already reached her side, whimpering softly.

Hearing the familiar sound, Xuexue immediately sat up. “Little Li!”

The little red fox nestled beside her, rubbing its head into her palm, eyes shining with a peculiar light. It seemed it, too, had missed her.

The gang of little troublemakers soon caught up, stones in hand, but seeing the red fox had found its owner, they stopped and hesitated, uncertain of what to do next.

“Hey, that little fox is our prey!”