TBR CH158

It wasn’t that there were fewer lights outside. But Chu Huaicun did pause as he stepped out of the palace. The resplendent gold inside the hall and the world outside had been separated into distinct shores, with a murky, hidden river flowing between them.

He feigned a desire for fresh air, attracting many intentional and unintentional glances.

However, Ji Ying was not among those looking at him.

He simply turned his head, speaking softly to the official beside him, the curve of his jaw slightly taut.

His Majesty naturally wouldn’t indulge Chu Huaicun—this ever-arrogant and unruly high official—to stroll alone into his imperial garden. But fortunately, at the same time, General Zhenbei also stood up.

He chuckled, before him a wine cup significantly larger than anyone else’s at the table. The cup was now drained once more.

“I’m quite drunk as well,”

General Zhenbei had been drinking cup after cup since he sat down. Now, with drunkenness visible on his face, he swayed towards the palace gate, “Prime Minister Chu is going to admire the scenery in the imperial garden, haha, I also feel like going out for some fresh air.”

Chu Huaicun coldly lifted his eyelids, looking at General Zhenbei.

Everyone present could see that Chu Huaicun was not pleased with the arrangements being imposed upon him. The Emperor, however, suddenly laughed, his laughter like paper rubbing on coarse straw paper, carrying a sour astringency that made one’s heart ache:

“Since General Zhenbei has such refined taste, then accompany Prime Minister Chu.”

The atmosphere in the hall tightened for some reason. The interior was brightly lit, yet Chu Huaicun’s pristine white and cold attire almost seemed to vanish into the outer darkness.

Some noticed that Prime Minister Chu did not have his usual sword with him, which might be why Chu Huaicun didn’t argue much. No matter how much underlying tension and conflict, on the surface, it was just a surging undercurrent. He acquiesced to His Majesty’s arrangement, and no matter what, everyone present breathed a sigh of relief.

Only when General Zhenbei’s last footsteps melted into the night did the taut string suddenly loosen.

Ji Ying seemed detached throughout, even when the official he was conversing with repeatedly lost focus due to the silent standoff between Prime Minister Chu and His Majesty, he displayed ample patience. In front of His Majesty, he always restrained his sharp edges, making himself sufficiently submissive and humble, even his seating position was neither too far forward nor too far back, merely at the appropriate rank for his official status.

“Lord Zhang,” he said calmly, “we were just discussing…”

At the same time, he imagined Chu Huaicun stepping into the moonlight of this night. Tonight’s moon was like the shell of a blue crab, perfectly round, cold and smooth, the shadows cast by the branches almost covering the eyes of the entire world. The palace city was vast enough for all exploration and concealment to occur within it.

Only then did Lord Zhang snap back to attention, clumsily trying to conceal the fact that he hadn’t been listening carefully to Ji Ying.

“That’s right, that’s right,”

Even though Chu Huaicun wasn’t present, he deliberately kept his voice low, “Lord Ji was just talking about the annual official performance reviews, right? As for me and Lord Ji… His Majesty’s thoughts are naturally the same. It’s just Prime Minister Chu, that’s a problem.”

The so-called “same thoughts” naturally meant making good use of this assessment to extract a lot of benefits. This kind of matter, combined with Ji Ying’s gloomy and malevolent demeanor, was simply a tailor-made stage for his conspiracies.

Ji Ying feigned a smile, a hint of casual sarcasm curving his lips.

His mind was still racing—Chu Huaicun had probably already shaken off those who were closely watching him; his status combined with General Zhenbei’s cover made this not difficult. But the palace grounds were vast and deep, with patrolling guards everywhere. Old leaves crunched under heavy boots, shattering underfoot. Walking in the shadows didn’t mean safety…

“Why does Lord Zhang hold back?”

His voice still had no emotional fluctuation, merely becoming very light, “Ji still has some say in the Ministry of Revenue, after all.”

Chu Huaicun must first find the sword he had hidden in the palace, Ji Ying thought. When he took that sword, Ji Ying could almost feel, through the scabbard, the bright, sharp edge that could cleave anything. The blade was as white and soft as a pear blossom, and because it was frequently maintained, it only had a faint scent of blood, yet it made one involuntarily feel the bone-chilling intent of countless lives taken by its master.

Ji Ying was not suited for this sword. But in his hands, the sword sheathed all its sharpness and rested docilely.

Ji Ying imagined Chu Huaicun’s footsteps overlapping with his own from half an hour ago; they stood in the same place in different times. But now, danger, gloom, and a heavy air of solemnity surrounded him, while in his hand was an exquisite wine cup, nine petals supporting a liquid of emerald green, exuding a delicate decadence, and before him stood a portly official.

“Naturally, naturally,”

Lord Zhang hesitated for a moment, then made up his mind, “If Lord Ji can decide this matter, how could this humble official have any hesitation? Thanks to Lord Ji’s guidance, I have also considered… Yes, it’s naturally these people… I think, just like this…”

Ji Ying let his soul be cleaved into two, one part forced to remain in this dark, sordid place of wealth, listening to the various worldly entanglements; the other part, riding the moonlight, clearly observed Chu Huaicun moving in those vast shadows, and his sword-sharp, chilling eyes. The imperial palace was as deep as a labyrinth, but Mr. Fang had already surveyed the terrain. If all went smoothly, Chu Huaicun would successfully find that place.

He was already halfway there.

If everything was going to go smoothly…

Ji Ying suddenly looked up. At this moment, the hall was warm with fragrant jade, and the dancers’ skirts fluttered, as fiery red as pomegranates, seemingly burning tirelessly under his fingers. No, his gaze passed through these ominous bloodstains, directly looking at someone seated at the head of the table. At this moment, that person suddenly stood up amidst the drunken eyes of the crowd.

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Prince Duan suddenly stood up.

There was a mysterious solemnity in his expression, so much so that people realized that what he was about to say would absolutely be earth-shattering words, and they had to hold their breath. The Seventh Prince beside him timidly lowered his head due to the unintended glances falling upon him. The old emperor was equally bewildered by what he was about to do.

“Prince Duan, you…”

“Father Emperor, your son has something to say,” Prince Duan nodded, a cold, self-important air suddenly appearing on his face. It seemed that in this father-son battle, he could turn the tables with the results he held in his hand.

He lowered his voice, but it was still clearly audible in the silent hall:

“This is a crucial moment; everyone, please hear this prince out.”

Ji Ying’s hand slowly brushed over the white jade cup. The carved petals were not soft at all; their sharp edges pressed against a small patch of skin on his fingertip, conveying a cold and clear sensation. His ominous premonition grew stronger. When he heard that name, his clasped fingers suddenly tightened, a white mark appearing where the blood flow was obstructed.

“It’s about… Prime Minister Chu.”

This sentence was like a clap of thunder. Now everyone knew why Prince Duan needed to choose such a moment; if Chu Huaicun had been present… if Chu Huaicun had been present, the scene would have been unimaginable.

But Chu Huaicun was not present, and all the nation’s high officials and nobles were gathered here.

“Do you all know who Chu Huaicun is? He simply appeared out of thin air, entered the court on the strength of his military achievements, and now he is rising rapidly, feared by everyone. No, don’t interrupt this prince,”

Prince Duan waved his hand casually, “This prince knows that some people are scared stiff just hearing that name. But, before his rise? Did he really come from the countryside, unprepared, and utterly ignorant of state affairs?”

His Majesty’s aging pupils suddenly dilated a few points, so much so that the whites of his eyes were squeezed into tiny slivers. His eyes held a cruel confusion and curiosity; this question had troubled him for many years, and even if the answer was revealed in a tone of unpleasant pity, he could only bite the prepared bait.

What shouldn’t happen, but inevitably would, descended at this moment. Ji Ying realized this with extreme calmness.

This hadn’t been unconsidered before…

But the timing—without a doubt, it couldn’t be worse.

Ji Ying guessed that Chu Huaicun was now approaching the place he was looking for, like a predator nearing its prey. He had sharp claws and teeth, yet his movements were incredibly light. He would silently complete his mission, agile and graceful, blood beads rolling from the hunter’s fur, dissolving on the moonlit ground. Concealed without a trace, as it should be.

Prince Duan finally played out his suspense.

“Does anyone here still remember the Lin family?”

He spoke mysteriously. The cup in Ji Ying’s hand suddenly slipped, smashing onto the table with a crisp sound, chipping a corner.

But when he picked up the wine vessel, no one noticed him. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on Prince Duan:

“I searched for a long time before finding a few clues. But the evidence is conclusive; I have a copy of the Lin family’s conscription roster from over a decade ago, on which there is an incredible name: Chu Huaicun. Following the trail, I also found witnesses. The adjutant who served beside General Dingguo back then, he seems to have seen a young man skilled with a sword by the side of the Lin family’s eldest son—”

A commotion erupted in the crowd.

Prince Duan was very satisfied with the effect he had created, almost grinding Chu Huaicun’s name between his teeth: “All of this points to one conclusion—Chu Huaicun is a member of the Lin family, or perhaps a retainer they recruited… but his relationship with the Lin family’s eldest son back then was particularly close. Prime Minister Chu concealed such a past to come to court; what do you all think it was for? What could he be after?”

A single night could devour an entire family, but it couldn’t burn away everyone’s memories; they simply remained silent. At this moment, people couldn’t help but recall the great fire that had illuminated half the night sky years ago, the flames growing wildly, like trapped beasts struggling to escape.

Only a man-made fire could burn like that. This fire, along with everything related to it, quickly became a secret behind power.

“For hatred.”

His Majesty’s voice suddenly escaped his aged lips; he murmured.

“For revenge,” Prince Duan concluded, then displayed the conscription roster in his hand, “Chu Huaicun is truly an ambitious and treacherous man, harboring rebellious intentions, deeply cunning, and holding the legitimate dynasty in contempt. He came here to exact revenge on us.”

This was simply horrifying. Lord Zhang, who had just been conversing with Ji Ying, stood愣愣 in place, seemingly still in a state of extreme disbelief at hearing the words “Lin family,” and his mind was slow to grasp this revenge drama. However, a more fervent wave soon swept over, and the clamor grew louder and louder in the crowd.

Throughout the hall, only Ji Ying lowered his gaze, standing motionless in place. His raven-like long hair cast a dark shadow, obscuring his eyes, and his face was terrifyingly pale.

A crack in the wine cup had cut his finger, and now blood slowly seeped from the wound.

He could feel that gaze, the aged gaze that once again burst forth with an undeniable majesty. His Majesty’s eyes fell upon him, almost tangible, as if to tear him apart—it was incandescent rage and the venom of realizing he might have been deceived. It was the look given to an object, without any pity, and cruel punishment was about to descend upon him.

Chu Huaicun, of course, might not recognize Ji Ying; Ji Ying had changed too much. But Ji Ying couldn’t possibly fail to recognize the former retainers of the Lin family.

Unless he lied.

With Mr. Fang’s help, Chu Huaicun’s infiltration was unbelievably smooth.

His footsteps were silent, moving swiftly through the palace chambers, clean and decisive, leaving no blurred shadows or faint suspicions. He held his breath as if on a battlefield. The patrolling guards in the palace passed by his hiding spot, yet their vigilant eyes seemed to see nothing. As for Mr. Fang… there was even less need to worry about him.

He had knocked out a eunuch in the palace.

And Mr. Fang was now a living image of an old eunuch who had spent decades in the palace, speaking in a high-pitched voice that was seamless. According to their plan, he would subtly appear along Chu Huaicun’s path, serving as an excellent guide.

The deeper they went, the stricter the guard. Chu Huaicun slowly moved from the shadows of the buildings to the back of the rockery in the garden, and none of the guards patrolling around the rockery noticed his presence.

The rockery was nestled among various lush plants, made of strangely shaped stones, some riddled with holes, but it was precisely the popular style among the powerful and noble families. Chu Huaicun waited patiently in the shadow of the rockery. After counting only about three, he heard footsteps, followed by a high-pitched, thin voice arrogantly displaying the emperor’s given pass to the guards, openly approaching.

They had knocked out one of the emperor’s most trusted eunuchs, which was certainly not due to luck. Unfortunately, Chu Huaicun had no talent for impersonating others, otherwise it would have saved much trouble.

Ji Ying had, after all, made many preparations for this matter.

This rockery had a peculiar feature—for instance, it was just slightly larger than the other rockeries, not a noticeably different size, but enough to conceal a secret passage behind it. The passage gradually descended, its curve almost imperceptible, but soon, Chu Huaicun, with silent footsteps, arrived at the depths of the passage.

Tunnels always twisted and turned.

In a section of the tunnel that was relatively silent and deserted, Mr. Fang suddenly spoke: “Prime Minister Chu, look at that wall—when building tunnels in the palace, they had to avoid the imperial prison, so there’s a rather abrupt turn here. But this indicates one thing.”

“We’re almost there,” Chu Huaicun replied concisely.

Since the place they were going to was partly connected to the imperial prison, then this conclusion was naturally inevitable. The passage was not spacious and was very deep, but at least it no longer descended further. Chu Huaicun inadvertently glanced back before turning. No one had followed, nor were there any abrupt footsteps, only a narrow, cramped path that stretched out of sight.

There was only this one-way passage here.

If someone came from behind, they would inevitably meet them head-on. Of course, in their plan, His Majesty, the only one who might temporarily decide to come here, was sitting in the hall, enjoying his brief intoxicated power; and Ji Ying, of course, could not possibly be blindfolded and held captive to walk into this secret place in the imperial palace at this very moment.

But Chu Huaicun cautiously did not ignore the inexplicable unease that arose in his heart, even though it was just a narrow sliver of premonition.

Mr. Fang walked ahead, not seeing the fleeting thoughts that flashed in Chu Huaicun’s icy pupils. He, too, was cautiously holding his breath now. Ahead was the last path, and many heavily guarded checkpoints awaited them, especially facing those guards. They must not act rashly or alert them.

Although the token in his hand could fool the guards outside, for those deeper inside, without an oral decree from His Majesty, it might not be enough to make them condescend to make way.

Chu Huaicun’s footsteps were now lighter than snow falling on the ground. He silently drew out the sword in his hand and cautiously chose not to expose the bright white blade. The scent of blood could easily cause unnecessary commotion, and in their designated plan, everything should happen quietly, aiming to attract the least amount of attention.

So—when the guard walked up to the seemingly at ease eunuch, carefully checking the imperial edict in his hand, he suddenly felt a pain in the back of his neck, then lost consciousness, falling limply to the ground.

The entire matter was handled swiftly and cleanly, not even a strangled cry for help was heard.

As they approached the core of the secret passage, Chu Huaicun began to smell a heavy, rusty scent, a scent that, if a suitable word were to be found, could only be “death.” The deepest part of the secret passage was patrolled by the most guards, but fortunately, at this point, there was no need to worry about their shouts alarming the people above ground.

Mr. Fang smiled and brushed off the remaining powder from his body, leaving a strange, sweet scent in the air. Chu Huaicun now wore a bamboo hat, its coarse veil covering his face. In the brief moment of holding his breath, the guards in the depths of the tunnel inexplicably collapsed one by one. Those who were a little slower were dealt with by Prime Minister Chu.

Mr. Fang was still handling the aftermath outside. Chu Huaicun pushed open the last stone door and witnessed the scene within.

It was a sight Ji Ying often saw.

The stone door was sturdy and silent; when pushed open, it made only a slight, heavy scraping sound, but that was enough to make the imprisoned occupants look up—strictly speaking, only some of them looked up. Although they were not confined together like animals in the imperial prison, cruel torture had left indelible scars on their bodies.

Because they were the most likely to know the secret of the imperial edict. The emperor was desperate to force the whereabouts of the late emperor’s last edict from their mouths, and the methods used were, after all, excessive.

The leader among them looked up. People instinctively looked at him. Even though he could only slump on the ground due to a missing leg, Chu Huaicun had to ignore the emptiness of his left eye. The tunnel outside offered no fresh air, but a faint breeze still entered the inner chamber. He raised the eye he could still see with, looking at the newcomer, his gaze heavy with exhaustion.

“Again…”

Then the other party paused sluggishly. He found that standing before him was not the familiar eunuch and the yellow robe covered in layers of blood, but a strange stranger. A bamboo hat obscured his eyes, but in his hand, he held a sword.

“Uncle Lin,” Chu Huaicun said softly.

He was the younger brother of Ji Ying’s father. Ji Ying’s father had long been dead, but this elder was also a respected figure in the clan. Compared to his father’s extreme strictness, he was the kind of elder who was kind to all juniors, especially fond of drinking with young people. His gaze fell on Chu Huaicun’s sword, and then an expression of understanding dawned on him.

“You are—” he said slowly, “Chu Huaicun?”

For those imprisoned here, there were very few opportunities to learn about the outside world. But none of them had forgotten His Majesty’s furious reaction to that name. Ji Ying had little chance to exchange information with them; they only had a set of hand gestures for communication established long ago, not complex enough to convey more detailed introductions.

The last time they met, Ji Ying silently told them: “The time is coming.”

“It’s me,” Chu Huaicun said concisely, “I’m here to take you out—I can’t explain too much right now, but please believe me.”

Of course, they didn’t have time for more words.

But their withered, desolate eyes flickered with an expression they thought they would never again reveal in this lifetime. This expression was almost extinguished when Mr. Fang entered.

However, the person dressed as a eunuch opened his mouth and spoke with a full, resonant voice.

“Move aside a bit,”

Mr. Fang said, then, before anyone could react, he started tampering with the lock on the railing. Whatever he did to that incredibly intricate lock, people had expected the lock to click open, but what they got was a small explosion. A sharp flash of fire erupted on the door, and the lock had to fall heavily to the ground, blasted into fragments.

“This makes it easier.”

Mr. Fang retreated very promptly, and to the horrified gaze of everyone, he even shrugged.

The leader of the prisoners also quickly reacted. They could not imagine that the shackles that seemed meant to confine them until the end of their lives would be so easily broken, but the sweet rain of freedom had not yet touched their skin.

The elder called Uncle Lin quietly straightened their thoughts: “Follow these two.”

This sentence was easy to say, but not easy to do. Many of the people here were tortured beyond recognition, at most able to lean against the wall and move forward little by little. One of Uncle Lin’s legs was broken, and the scab on the wound split open again as he moved. He was the worst off among all those who remained here.

What he had lost were all one of a pair.

One arm, one leg, one eye, one ear. This was a cruel torment.

He quickly fell behind, and Chu Huaicun patiently and calmly supported him, using, of course, the arm that remained. Uncle Lin moved silently until he reached a corner, where he whispered, “You’ve seen Lin Ying, haven’t you—of course, Lin Ying sent you here. You’ve both changed a lot.”

Chu Huaicun nodded slightly, and the other party then seemed to smile with a hint of melancholy:

“He’s had a very hard time, and of course, you probably have too. I know he’s been working very hard. After all, I really didn’t expect that at this old age, I’d still have a chance to see the sunlight outside.”

“I understand.”

Chu Huaicun whispered, “Don’t worry, the people waiting outside have arrived. Ji… Yuanya has been working in the palace for so many years; this crucial step is entirely his credit. And after you leave, you’ll be temporarily settled with my master. Everything will go smoothly, I promise no one will be able to find you there.”

He almost bit his tongue, but even so, he nearly blurted out Ji Ying’s name out of habit.

The name Lin Ying had disappeared from this world for too long. Recalling it now, only a hint of wistfulness remained. When Chu Huaicun called him more than a decade ago, he always called him “Yuan Ya,” using courtesy names or just a given name among peers.

Who else would naturally call him “Lin Ying” by both given and family name, besides the elders of the Lin family?

They fell silent again in unison for a while, but the atmosphere at this moment had softened slightly, even appearing somewhat warm. Uncle Lin smiled, a smile tinged with loneliness: “When the eldest son brought you back, how could I have imagined…”

Chu Huaicun suddenly stopped.

Only one last turn separated them from exiting the winding, lingering secret passage.

But suddenly, a commotion erupted ahead; it seemed more than one carriage was approaching with clattering hooves. Underground, such sounds were hollow and muffled, but they clearly weren’t a good sign. Chu Huaicun acutely judged the scale of the approaching people, while on the surface, Mr. Fang and the waiting carriage were already in a tense tug-of-war with the surrounding guards.

“What—” Uncle Lin’s eyes widened slightly. Once he became nervous, his already damaged body lost its balance. Chu Huaicun quickly grabbed him, carefully restoring his balance. He didn’t care that his pristine white collar was stained with dust and blood from the old man.

But the situation ahead allowed no hesitation.

As he had anticipated, an accident occurred. Accidents always strike suddenly, like a blade shimmering with sinister light suddenly plunging into smoothly progressing events, bringing chaos, bloodshed, and sacrifice. Even with a thousand careful plans beforehand, a cunning strategist cannot claim to prevent accidents from happening.

Chu Huaicun paused, a rare occurrence for him.

His demeanor at this moment was somewhat different from that of Prime Minister Chu sitting calmly in the imperial hall. On the better side, his veiled bamboo hat dutifully covered his eyes and added a touch of unbridled chivalry, carrying a cold, metallic scent. He no longer looked like an exiled immortal from heaven; now, he resembled a swordsman whose “sword’s cold light chills nineteen provinces.”

He slowly drew the sword from his side.

The blade, like cold water, gleamed with sharp light in the gloom.

Chu Huaicun vigilantly scrutinized the darkness ahead. He hadn’t been discovered yet, but the long, narrow shadow from outside had already stretched in. Mr. Fang could hold them off for a while, but he couldn’t block everyone by himself. Moreover, since their actions had been discovered, it was foreseeable that more and more guards would gather.

If this was the case… The first thought that flashed through Chu Huaicun’s mind was of the person sitting in the palace hall, feigning composure, but with a taut jaw.

His Majesty had suddenly sent people here. The number wasn’t particularly large, not like a response to them discovering their plan. It should be His Majesty’s sudden whim, ordering people to come here for something. Of course, besides torture and slaughter, it was hard to imagine other possibilities. The question was why now, in the middle of the imperial banquet.

Had something happened to Ji Ying?

As countless thoughts flashed through his mind, Uncle Lin’s hand pressed downward, as if giving a signal. Chu Huaicun suppressed the surging malevolence in his eyes; those pupils were still like ice and snow, as if everything that happened was not unexpected. He shifted his gaze to the old man beside him, saying reassuringly:

“It’s just a small accident, nothing will happen.”

This did not ease the lines on Uncle Lin’s face. He still looked at Chu Huaicun somewhat seriously, then suddenly spoke:

“I am old—”

Chu Huaicun already had a premonition of what he was about to say, and at this moment, the old man, who needed Chu Huaicun’s support to stay upright, forcefully pushed away Chu Huaicun’s hand with his only remaining arm. He staggered, then slowly slid down, his entire back leaning against the wall, preventing a clumsy fall to the ground.

He stopped Chu Huaicun from trying to pull him up.

“Those outside are more valuable than me,”

He said, “I cannot let you hesitate. The youngest among them is only in his twenties. As for me, I am this old, my body so frail that a gust of wind could destroy me. Even if I see the sunlight outside, I will die within a very short time.”

So he asked to stay alone in this place, a place that was just one turn away from standing in the light of the outside world. But this place belonged to darkness, surrounded by silent tunnels, a natural tomb.

Chu Huaicun would not forget the flicker in his eyes when he had just said he could “see the sunlight before I die.”

That was certainly not true calmness.

But when such a choice was presented before such an old man, what else could he do but willingly accept his fate? On one side was the safety of the younger generation who had survived the family, and on the other was himself, who could only be a burden. He knew he was a burden and guessed his current appearance.

He looked at Chu Huaicun, his heart filled with compassion. He was afraid that the young man before him would be forced to make a choice, so he chose to propose this cruel conclusion first.

Too many tragedies of choice and sacrifice had occurred in this world.

Uncle Lin slowly slid to the ground, his gaze lost in thought towards the faint light filtering in from the corner. It wasn’t sunlight; it was merely the clear, bluish moonlight. He felt the cold stone ground beneath him, a chill that almost made him tremble. The wound on his leg had split open, and blood was now steadily seeping out.

Chu Huaicun still stood before him, but Uncle Lin knew he would soon do what he had to do.

This had to be said to be a…

Misunderstanding.

The longing for life in the old man’s eyes gradually dimmed, and a strange smile graced his lips. This was, of course, a regret, but it was not without parts that could be forgiven.

Then Chu Huaicun leaned down again. He did not release the sword in his hand, but his other hand once again reached out to the old man on the ground. His eyes gleamed like the blade of a sword.

Another person might accept a cruel fate, choose the simpler path, and console themselves that it was the only way. They would begin their mourning early.

But this was Chu Huaicun.

He had no intention of abandoning anyone from the start. Even if there were some changes in the plan, he did not believe that declaring failure at such an early stage was a commendable act of sacrifice. On the contrary, stripping away all the glamorous things that came with honor and status, what remained of Chu Huaicun was an unshakeable, sharp core.

He succinctly pulled the old man’s arm again. The old man was too thin, light as a hollowed-out piece of wood.

Although this was truly difficult—

“Trust me,” Chu Huaicun said, “it’s not yet time to abandon anyone. I will never do that until the very last moment. I have experienced the taste of being forced to give up. Yuanya would very much want to see you; you are the closest relative he has in this world. Even if it’s just an attempt, are you willing to persevere for him until the very last moment?”

The old man looked at him in surprise.

And at this moment, Chu Huaicun, while protecting him, had already begun to move outward. Chu Huaicun’s cold eyes rapidly captured everything around him, making the most precise estimation of where his sword would strike next. Because of this, he did not notice Uncle Lin’s complex gaze. However, he truly didn’t need to notice things like gazes.

He only needed to realize that Uncle Lin, supported by him, was also trying to move forward with his own strength, to understand his choice.

“If that moment comes,”

Uncle Lin said sternly, “you must leave me behind.”

Chu Huaicun nodded without hesitation, a gesture that brought a final look of relief and serenity to the old man’s eyes. At this moment, his pupils were finally reflected in the dim, clear moonlight, and his sword tip had also slightly lifted, a faint greenish light flickering on the blade.

His hand was incredibly steady, the swordsman’s hands seeming to be carved from jade.

This would, of course, be a fierce battle.

But Chu Huaicun believed, or rather, was certain—he would not be the one to lose.