A soft gray afternoon settled over Baihe Village, the lingering drizzle from the storm leaving behind shimmering puddles and a fresh, earthy scent. Despite the lightening sky, an undercurrent of tension thrummed through every muddy street. Word had spread of footprints by the creek, and while no one had spotted the intruders directly, villagers nervously locked doors and peered from windows, fearful that a raid could come at any moment.
Inside Lan Zhuoran's modest home, a hushed conversation took place. Yin Feiyan leaned against a rough wooden post, clutching the relic—still wrapped—close to her side. Although her wounds had been tended overnight, her pallor remained and she breathed carefully, as though every movement pained her. Across from her, Madam Qiu stirred a pot of congee over the small hearth, occasionally glancing at the two young people with concern.
Lan Zhuoran crouched near the hearth, his brow knitted in thought. He had spent the early morning scouting the village periphery, but the footprints by the creek remained their only clear sign of intruders. Returning home, he found Yin Feiyan restless and determined to plan her next steps. Her short rest had not blunted her focus.
"We can't wait for them to come to us," she said, her voice subdued but steady. "If they realize you're sheltering me, the entire village could be caught in the crossfire."
Madam Qiu nodded, placing two bowls of steaming congee on a low table. "That's what worries me. Our people aren't fighters, and we have no walls to hide behind."
Lan Zhuoran exhaled slowly. "What if you leave quietly at dawn tomorrow? The roads might still be wet, but you could slip away while it's still dark. I could scout ahead, make sure there's no ambush nearby."
Yin Feiyan's gaze flickered with relief—and a hint of guilt. "That might work, but what about you? I don't expect you to abandon your home for my sake."
For a long moment, Lan Zhuoran hesitated. In truth, he felt torn. The idea of leaving Baihe behind, possibly for an extended journey, filled him with both excitement and dread. He had seldom traveled beyond the neighboring towns; his dreams of seeing the wider empire and honing his martial skills had always seemed a distant hope. But now…
"I may not abandon it forever," he said at last. "But I can't stand by and watch you face these pursuers alone, either. If they're as dangerous as you say, traveling alone is a death wish—especially injured."
She looked as though she wanted to argue but was too tired to muster a protest. Madam Qiu placed a hand on Lan Zhuoran's shoulder. "If you go, be careful. Remember, these men aren't just common highway robbers. We don't know who they answer to."
Lan Zhuoran set his jaw, sensing the weight of responsibility pressing on him. "I understand. I'll gather supplies, see if I can borrow a horse from Elder Shui or someone. We'll need some way to speed up travel, especially if you're still healing."
Yin Feiyan let her eyes flick to the relic in her lap. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice quieter now. "Neither of you asked for this, yet you're offering to help. I promise you, there's a reason my mentor entrusted this to me. It's not just a weapon or a bauble—it's something that might change the fate of more people than we can imagine."
Lan Zhuoran exchanged a glance with Madam Qiu. Although they remained uncertain about her artifact's nature, both sensed the gravity of her words. Outside, the gray light shifted subtly as the sun drifted westward. Time was slipping away, and the lingering fear that pursuers might strike at any moment cast a pall over their preparations.
"Well," Madam Qiu said, offering a consoling smile. "One step at a time. Let's see if we can at least get you fed and rested before nightfall."
Yet even as the comforting aroma of congee filled the small home, Lan Zhuoran couldn't help the tension coiling in his chest. Tomorrow, they would attempt to sneak Yin Feiyan out. But what if the enemies had already set their trap?