The collapsed and charred remains of the boathouse were shrouded in darkness, suffused with the mingling odors of wine, burnt wood, and blood. The nearby river gurgled steadily, carrying diluted blood downstream in a dark red swirl around a lone figure's feet. Gu Yanzhen stood amidst the wreckage, alone and disoriented. For a long moment, he tilted his head, unsure of where to focus his gaze.
The wind howled through the surrounding forest and hills, producing a low, mournful sound.
The door had been smashed open, and debris from the roof and walls continued to fall. In the dim starlight, the dried bloodstains on the ground could faintly be discerned. Three corpses lay sprawled inside the ruined room, including the hulking forms of the Yang brothers. The sight of the brothers—who had always struck Gu Yanzhen as ferocious and indomitable—lying lifeless was surreal. The scene before him made it unmistakably clear: everyone in the boathouse was dead.
What should have been a straightforward task had turned into this. As he crossed the forested hills to reach this place, his mind had been occupied solely with plans for Le Ping. At his side was Lao Liu, his trusted subordinate. Inside the boathouse, there had been the formidable Yang brothers, fugitives perhaps, but dependable allies for this task. And then, of course, there was the captive Ning Liheng. The situation had seemed entirely under control.
But the moment Lao Liu pushed open the door, the entire structure seemed to collapse in response. Beams crashed downward, shaking the wooden floor and sending dust cascading from above. In that instant, Gu Yanzhen realized the people he had imagined inside were all dead.
The weight of this realization seemed to crush him. Blood spread across the floor, and the surrounding darkness felt oppressive and surreal. The woods, wind, and water enveloped him, and suddenly, he was utterly alone.
"L-Lao Liu..."
His voice trembled, breaking the oppressive silence. Yet even as the words left his mouth, arrows pierced through Lao Liu's body with brutal precision. The corpse floated in the water, lifeless except for the unsettling way the blood seemed to pour out relentlessly, almost unnaturally fast. One moment, a living, breathing person; the next, nothing but a bloodied husk.
Desperation seized Gu Yanzhen as he stammered, "Uncle Liu..."
The darkened river surface stretched like a bloodstained ribbon under the faint starlight. There would be no answer. Finally, Gu Yanzhen turned in a daze, spinning twice before stumbling toward the riverbank.
Halfway there, he noticed movement in the woods.
A shadow crouched in the dark among the bamboo trees, retching audibly. The figure's outline was barely visible, bent slightly forward. Gu Yanzhen instinctively stopped, considering a frantic dash toward the shallow river. The thought of plunging into the water tempted him, but the image of Lao Liu's arrow-riddled body flashed in his mind. Instead, he turned and hurried toward the opposite side of the forest.
The figure in the bamboo grove straightened and began to walk forward, something dangling in its hand. Gu Yanzhen froze, straining his ears to catch the faint, haunting tune the figure was singing. The melody was peculiar, slow, and sung with a hoarse, unsteady voice:
"Left three times... Right three times... Twist your neck... Wiggle your hips... Early to bed, early to rise... Let's exercise..."
The shadow emerged into the dim light: Ning Yi—Ning Liheng.
Bloodstained bandages wrapped his arm, and the smudges of dried blood on his figure added a strange weight to his presence. Despite his apparent frailty, an inexplicable aura of menace radiated from him.
Gu Yanzhen hesitated for just two seconds before bolting toward the woods along the riverbank.
When the wooden beam crashed Lao Liu into the river, Ning Yi had already been waiting in the dark for a long time.
The pain in his left arm, shoulder, and chest surged with relentless clarity, each wave sharper than the last. He sat silently, chewing bitter leaves to numb his senses and maintain a state of heightened vigilance. The bitter taste clung to his tongue, anchoring his focus. Still, by the time the makeshift fire had lured his enemies, fatigue and nausea overwhelmed him. He vomited once, then again when he noticed the unfamiliar scholar figure. Afterward, he shoved a few more leaves into his mouth, gripped his crossbow, and stepped out of the bamboo grove, humming a ridiculous tune born of a password's absurdity.
The scholar fled at the sight of him, sprinting toward the opposite woods. Ning Yi followed, crossbow in hand, neither rushing nor lagging behind. The lyrics of his song blurred in his mind, but he didn't care to correct them.
"Shake your legs... Shake your legs... Take deep breaths... Stay happy, and you won't grow old..."
Ahead, the scholar stumbled over a tripwire, triggering a small bamboo trap. A thin stick snapped up with a muted swish, barely striking him. The trap was poorly constructed, Ning Yi thought to himself, yet the man collapsed in terror, only to scramble to his feet and run again—only to be tripped by the same wire and fall once more.
"How did it come to this?" Ning Yi raised the crossbow, aiming at the figure before him. Then, he cautiously closed the distance by several meters, using the starlight to get a clear look at the man's face. Finally, he was certain—this was someone he didn't know. "Who are you? What... cough... what terrible, unconscionable thing have I done lately?"
His voice was hoarse, languid, and weak. The wind seemed to howl louder at this moment, rustling the forest behind them. The fallen scholar stared at Ning Yi with terror, his lips trembling. After a long pause, he finally stammered, "Gu… Gu Hong… Gu Yanzhen…"
The wind abruptly stilled. Ning Yi froze on the spot, his mouth slightly ajar, his expression stunned. That name—he'd heard it before. Of course he had! But… Ning Yi blinked, the absurdity of the situation dawning on him. After a brief moment, his mouth opened a little wider, and his brows furrowed as if rolling his eyes at the heavens. Raising his crossbow-wielding hand, he wiped away the sweat forming on his upper lip from exhaustion. His gaze drifted away from Gu Yanzhen as he turned and took a few measured steps forward.
On the ground, Gu Yanzhen began to feel a hint of relief. Just then, Ning Yi abruptly spun back around, raised the crossbow, stepped closer, and pulled the trigger. The string twanged!
"You goddamn lunatic…"
Gu Yanzhen didn't even have time to react. Ning Yi muttered under his breath, and an instant later, Gu's body jolted as the bolt struck him in the abdomen. Staring down in disbelief at the arrow embedded in his stomach, Gu's jaw quivered. His expression wavered between tears and sheer incomprehension. Blood oozed from the wound, spreading in a searing, wet patch. Reflexively, he reached out to press against it.
"Ha… ah… ha…"
Though there were no tears, he appeared as if he were crying, his voice faint and panicked. Ning Yi tossed the crossbow aside, observing the scene. Taking a deep breath, he crouched down.
"Press it with both hands. Come on, bring that hand over too. Use both hands to hold it firmly. That's it. That's it. Don't move around, and don't cry out too loudly. Excessive movement or shouting will cause more blood loss, and then you won't make it."
Gu Yanzhen obediently pressed both hands to the edges of the arrow wound on his abdomen, trying to stem the bleeding. Ning Yi placed his own right hand over Gu's, his voice calm and steady, almost soothing, as if comforting a child. Gu Yanzhen seemed on the verge of tears, looking at Ning Yi as he whimpered.
"Yes, just like that. If we're lucky, this arrow might not have severed your intestines. Don't panic, don't cry. See? I'm speaking softly, and I'm very tired too. Let's both calm down and talk… So, did you lay a hand on Nie Yunzhu?"
Gu Yanzhen shook his head almost instinctively. Ning Yi stared into his eyes, then nodded with a faint smile. His face, pale as a sheet, was slick with cold sweat.
"A good start, Brother Yanzhen. Thank you. Now… other than the dead, who else knows you came here to do these things?"
This time, Gu Yanzhen hesitated for a long while.
"I-I am an official of the imperial court… I am an official. If I die, you…"
He stammered his words, but Ning Yi's expression grew colder. Reaching over his shoulder, he drew a steel blade and slashed it down onto Gu's thigh.
"AAAAHHHHHHHHH—"
A shriek tore through the night, echoing across the riverbanks and the surrounding forest. Birds roosting nearby burst into the sky in panic. Gu Yanzhen's face was drenched in tears, his pants wet with urine, blood gushing from his thigh. After a while, Ning Yi spoke again.
"Come, bring one hand over here. Press down on this wound too. Yes, that's it. I'm upset too, but we should understand each other better, Brother Yanzhen. See? As an esteemed official, you can either repeat your earlier response… or we can go over the question again."
By the time flames engulfed the boathouse, Ning Yi turned away and trudged toward the forest. His body was utterly drained, his nerves frayed to their limit.
The corpses of the Yang family, Gu Yanzhen, and Lao Liu were all consumed by the blaze. When they were discovered downstream, no one would know what had become of them.
An absurd misfortune.
Ning Yi had encountered many things in this life—both good and bad. He'd fought for his life, endured grave injuries, and brushed against death more than once. But this incident… this was incomparably baffling. No wonder he hadn't sensed any warning signs beforehand.
That Gu Yanzhen.
Goddamn lunatic.
Before today, Ning Yi hadn't even known of his existence.
What he hated most were these inexplicable, clueless hooligans!
Cursing inwardly, he forced himself to stay alert. He needed to cover as much distance as possible. Gu Yanzhen had mentioned one or two more people who knew about his plans, but now wasn't the time to silence them. He'd have to leave it for later or ask Lu Hongti for a favor—after all, this wasn't a trivial matter.
His thoughts spiraled as exhaustion weighed heavier. The path before him blurred and sharpened intermittently. At some point, he heard a strange birdsong nearby, a sound faintly familiar. Straining to focus his gaze, he spotted a figure darting swiftly along the trail ahead. In the blink of an eye, they reached him and supported his collapsing body.
"What happened to you?"
It was Lu Hongti's voice.
With that, Ning Yi's tense spirit finally relaxed, and he passed out.