Lan Zhuoran awoke stiff and sore in the estate's foyer, where makeshift sleeping mats lined the floor. Yin Feiyan dozed fitfully against a tattered cushion, her injured arm cradled protectively. Across the room, Gao Tianrong maintained a silent watch near the entrance, bow leaning against his leg. The first hints of sunrise warmed the shattered windows, revealing dust swirling in the golden light.
Gradually, the estate's remaining staff stirred—exhausted but alive, thanks to the night's successful defense. A timid maid approached Lan Zhuoran with a tray of steaming broth. "My lord offers this, as thanks," she whispered shyly. "We have little, but… your courage saved us."
Lan Zhuoran accepted the bowl gratefully. "Please tell Lord Zhou we're just travelers, not lords. We're glad to help." The maid bowed and retreated, leaving him to gently wake Feiyan. She blinked, wincing as she shifted her splint-bound arm.
"Morning already?" she murmured. "Feels like my entire body's on fire."
He offered her the bowl, letting her sip the broth. "We'll find you proper rest once we reach the capital. Maybe they'll have true healers."
She managed a tired smile. "I appreciate your optimism."
Gao Tianrong joined them, crossing the foyer with measured steps. "We caught a few intruders alive, remember? Maybe we can learn who sent them." At Feiyan's questioning look, he added, "Lord Zhou's guards stashed them in a storeroom under guard."
Feiyan glanced at her bandaged limb. "I'll go with you. I want to hear if they mention the Syndicate or any warlord."
Lan Zhuoran opened his mouth to protest—her arm needed rest—but Feiyan's gaze brooked no argument. Sighing, he nodded. "All right. But take it easy."
The trio followed a guard into a side corridor reeking of damp stone and disuse. At the end, two more guards stood watch outside a barred storage room. Inside, a single lantern illuminated the cramped space where two wounded bandits lay bound to pillars. One moaned in pain, clutching a bandaged thigh; the other glared sullenly, sporting a fresh bruise across his forehead.
Lord Zhou hovered behind the guards, wringing his hands. "I've tried questioning them," he whispered anxiously. "They claim no affiliation—just hungry men looking for loot. But I suspect more."
Gao Tianrong stepped forward, voice cold. "We don't have time for half-truths. Who sent you?"
The sullen bandit spat at the floor. "No one. We scavenge, that's all. You think we want part in these wars?"
Lan Zhuoran frowned. "We saw you scale the wall like professionals. Scavengers rarely risk a defended estate. Someone told you this place was vulnerable."
A guarded silence thickened, broken only by the moaning of the injured bandit. Feiyan stepped closer, ignoring the throb in her own arm. She pinned the surly bandit with a hardened stare. "If you know about the Black Wolf Syndicate, speak up. Or if you serve a local warlord, we need to know. We won't harm you further if you cooperate."
Sweat dotted the bandit's brow. His eyes flicked to Feiyan's splint, then to the staff leaning against Lan Zhuoran's shoulder. He exhaled sharply. "We heard rumors the estate was short on guards. That's all. A comrade said easy pickings—maybe some fancy relics left behind by the noble. We're not part of any big faction."
Gao Tianrong's gaze narrowed. "Who's your comrade?"
"Dead," the bandit muttered. "Saw him get skewered last night. We're alone. Everyone's forced to scrounge these days."
Lord Zhou's expression wavered between relief and pity. "So… you're just desperate thieves?"
The bandit's face contorted. "You think I want to do this? The empire's in shambles. War everywhere. We lost our homes, families. We scavenge or starve. If that means raiding a half-ruined estate… so be it." His voice cracked. "Just kill us if you plan to. No place left to go anyway."
A tense hush followed. Feiyan's throat tightened. She exchanged glances with Lan Zhuoran—both recalling the countless displaced souls they'd encountered. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "You almost cost these people their lives, but… I understand your desperation."
Lord Zhou swallowed, turning to the trio. "Should we… turn them over to some authority? But no authority remains. My men want retribution, but I have no stomach for bloodshed."
Lan Zhuoran set a hand on Lord Zhou's shoulder. "We won't tell you how to govern your estate. But mercy might benefit everyone. They're wounded, unarmed now. Perhaps banish them far away, keep them from returning."
The old noble's eyes welled with relief. "Yes. Yes, that might be best. If we kill them, we become no better than the marauders we fear."
The bandit pressed his lips in a sullen line but said nothing more. Gao Tianrong nodded, stepping back. The guard closed the storeroom door, leaving the fate of these wretched men in Lord Zhou's hands. Outside, the corridor felt lighter, though an undercurrent of sadness lingered.
Exiting to the courtyard, they found the staff clearing debris from the nighttime skirmish. Broken tiles and scattered weapons lay in neat piles. Rays of morning sunlight lent the battered estate a fleeting beauty. Feiyan cradled her arm, gaze drifting over the cracked walls. "One night of safety, at least," she murmured.
Lord Zhou approached, bowing respectfully. "I've prepared what little supplies we can spare—food, clean bandages, fresh water. It isn't much, but it's all we have. You're free to stay longer, but if your journey calls you…"
Lan Zhuoran sighed. "Thank you, Lord Zhou. We do have to keep going. The capital awaits, and we must not linger."
The old noble pressed a small pouch into Gao Tianrong's hands, likely containing bits of coin or precious trinkets. "Safe travels, then. May fortune guide you."
Not long after, the three travelers shouldered their packs, the relic strapped securely under Feiyan's cloak. Gao Tianrong led the mule, now replenished with water, while Lan Zhuoran and Feiyan offered final nods to the estate's grateful staff. They stepped beyond the gates, turning east once more.
With each footfall, distance grew between them and the worn faces left behind in Lord Zhou's manor. Another place saved, however temporarily, from the ravages of a desperate land. Feiyan inhaled a breath of morning air, ignoring the pangs of her splinted arm. We keep moving, she reminded herself. We can't fix this empire, but we can protect the relic—maybe that's a start.
Under a sun climbing steadily, the trio's footsteps merged with the wide expanse of the plains, heading for an uncertain horizon. War and chaos still lurked in every corner, but for now, they carried hope in battered hearts, determined to reach the capital or die trying.