Chapter 24

Xie Ci pulled Gu Wan out of the tomb, and with a push, they returned to the surface.

The moon shone brightly, stars scattered across the sky, and the land lay cloaked in pristine white snow, silent and pure beneath the faint silver moonlight. The two stood atop a high slope, gazing into the distance for a long while, until a cold wind swept across their faces.

“Let’s go.”

Xie Ci extended his hand to Gu Wan, leapt onto the cliff top, and together they mounted their horses, retracing their steps to leave.

Their horses were new—warhorses, striking and eye-catching like their armor. The newly bought steeds weren’t as adept at climbing, and since the pair took a circuitous route, by the time they descended the mountain, crossed the hills, and returned to the main road, dawn was already breaking. Smoke curled from roadside tea stalls and breakfast vendors, and early travelers and merchants had begun their journey.

Xie Ci had thought it over. “Let’s go find Cao Yong.”

It was now certain that the person burned beyond recognition was not Xun Xiao. Based on the information they had, he must have realized something was wrong at the last moment, strangled the Northern Rong soldier, swapped armor, and somehow managed to escape death.

He must have fled.

Gu Wan asked, “He must be burned, right?”

She deduced this from the facts—if the fire had been small, the people Xun Xun sent to control the scene, or even Xun Xun himself, would have seen his actions. Besides, for an entire Wei army to be wiped out, the blaze could not have been minor. Otherwise, Long Shouren would have had no opportunity to cover up.

In such a fire, to escape with not a single burn—unless one were cultivating immortality, it was impossible. Gu Wan had already asked Xie Ci atop the mountain, “Who’s most likely to have rescued or harbored him?” Xie Ci pondered deeply. “Most likely, a guard surnamed Luo.”

Their previous journey to Suzhou had yielded much more than just Xun Rongbi. They had studied the treason case files repeatedly, including Xun Xiao’s. Xie Ci had an excellent memory; he had reviewed the list of fallen guards and found none he knew surnamed Luo.

Xun Xiao’s mother had a retainer family named Luo, even his wet nurse was Luo. That guard was his milk brother, trained and entered the army alongside Xun Xiao. But Xie Ci learned that Luo had retired years ago due to battle wounds, and, under Xun Xiao’s arrangements, had bought land, left the service, married, and started a family.

Finding someone—hard, yet not impossible.

The requirements were clear: surname Luo, and having sheltered someone with burn injuries, likely severe.

The problem was, Luo was a common surname in the northwest—almost every tenth household bore it, just as Zhang or Chen would in later generations.

And Xun Xiao might not even still be in Suzhou; the nine major border towns of the north included Mingzhou and Guzhou, with many counties and villages further in.

Both had thought of Cao Yong—the young head of the escort agency from before. Weiyang Escort Agency had been established in the northwest for years, with branches in every major city. In the escort business, one needed connections and knowledge across all walks of life. When Cao Yong had offered to help them find someone, it wasn’t just empty words.

Now, it was perfect—“If you can’t find kin, then seek him.”

The sky was overcast, wind fierce, swirls of snowflakes blown from rooftops and branches. Xie Ci looked up at the long streets, the lingering snow, the smoke, the crowds. He said, “If Cao Yong betrays us, I’ll kill him!”

They hadn’t chosen Weiyang Escort Agency by chance. The Cao family had received great kindness from Xie Xinzhong. When the agency had offended officials and nearly lost everything, it was Xie Xinzhong who resolved the crisis and saved them. Though the Cao family were minor figures, when the Xie family was falsely accused and taken to the capital, the Cao father and son had worked tirelessly to help.

The cold wind and snow reflected in Xie Ci’s sharp, beautiful eyes—his pupils seemed frozen, calm yet exuding a silent, chilling intensity.

He turned to look at Gu Wan.

—Xie Ci had truly changed, but he had always been strict in military discipline and decisive in action.

Gu Wan couldn’t help but remark, “You’ve really changed.”

Gradually, he was merging with the Xie Ci she remembered.

But Xie Ci felt no such sentiment. Seeing her silent, suddenly saying this, he became anxious. “No matter what, we’re still the same as before! Always! I just think… I can’t be as I once was, anymore…”

His outlook had changed, and everything else followed, including his way of dealing with the world. But no matter how things changed, or what the future held, he was still Xie Ci—the bond between them and his family would never change!

He was genuinely flustered.

Gu Wan chuckled softly. “I mean, you’ve truly grown up—become a man.” Sixteen was coming of age in ancient times, and indeed, Xie Ci had endured much, his transformation obvious.

Her tone was teasing; Xie Ci realized she was joking again, his heart settling. But when she said “become a man,” his heart inexplicably beat faster, an unfamiliar nervousness rising within him.

Before he could say anything, Gu Wan laughed, pulled him onto her horse. “Come on, didn’t you say we’re seeing Cao Yong?”

With a graceful mounting motion, her long legs gripped the horse’s flanks, the brown horse trotting, tail flicking. Gu Wan swung her whip, her hair lifted by the wind, and she turned back with a smile. “Hey, Little Four, it’s up to you now. You’ve got to carve out a place for our family!”

No more talk of dying.

See, this is how it should be—after calamity comes blessing. One must be optimistic, so she too might share in the good fortune.

To stir the winds and clouds, to shake the world—Gu Wan felt this ambition was a bit too grand, not quite within reach. So from the start, she set herself as guide and support.

Now, it seemed her efforts were bearing fruit.

The wind carried her laughter. “When you become Grand General, remember to make me your logistics officer!” Xie Ci replied instantly, “How could you be just a logistics officer? At least chief strategist or prefectural commander!”

He had just come back to himself, blurting it out instinctively.

Yes, chief strategist was the superior of the logistics officer, the position of Guo Jia; as for prefectural commander, Zhuge Liang once held it.

Gu Wan doubled over with laughter. “My goodness, brother, you really think highly of me—”

Though this Grand General was a distant dream, Xie Ci hadn’t dared claim it for himself. Yet with Gu Wan laughing so merrily, his mood soared, and he smiled as well.

Laughter mingled with hoofbeats, kicking up mud and snow, two riders, one after the other, quickly left the small town behind.

After the snow, the sky was a deep blue, winter sunlight golden across the land.

Everything was finally going smoothly.

Gu Wan kept her goal modest, disguised herself, and went straight to Weiyang Escort Agency in Suzhou. Cao Yong was loyal, pounding his chest: “No worries, brothers, leave it to me!”

Weiyang Escort Agency was old and respected, with connections everywhere, and often dealt with medical halls and apothecaries. He quickly found a match.

“In Ping County—they moved here last year.”

Ping County was a small county under Suzhou, bordering the Funiu Mountains, a node on the east-west trade route, bustling and prosperous.

Cao Yong took the request seriously and personally led the way. Ping County had an agency branch; Cao Yong had worked there, knew the place well. Guided by the branch manager, he led Xie Ci and Gu Wan through streets and alleys, finally arriving at the end of Qingtou Lane in the southern part of town, a neighborhood of commoners and small merchants, before a modest two-courtyard home.

“This Luo family moved here last year. He has a wife and son, but his wife and child went to Mingzhou for schooling, so only Luo Da and his cousin remain.”

“His cousin is said to be badly burned, though nearly recovered now, doesn’t need doctors. But, they say, he’s mad…”

Gu Wan thought to herself, of course he’s nearly recovered. If not, he’d be dead. Cao Yong paused. “This is the place!”

Cao Yong was perceptive; seeing Xie Ci and Gu Wan staring at the door without joy, he said, “I’ll head back to the branch. Stay if you like, or return to the agency.” And left.

Xie Ci watched his retreating figure, followed silently with sword in hand, then returned, shaking his head at Gu Wan—he’d noticed nothing amiss with Cao Yong.

By then, dusk was falling. Gu Wan had spent most of the day sitting in tea stalls and wonton shops near the street, worried she’d be recognized, and finally got a room on the third floor of an inn. Opening the window, she could see the whole little courtyard.

She sipped tea and cracked sunflower seeds, watching and waiting for Xie Ci.

Xie Ci finally returned; without much talk, he drank half a bowl of tea, and the two went downstairs, heading for the two-courtyard house.

The lane was lined with ordinary homes, the architecture uneven. Many yards were fenced with half mud, half reed. This house was better, its walls fully mud but not high, just level with Gu Wan’s ears.

Snow had been swept from the wall tops and corners; the setting sun cast warm light on the ochre walls. The house and lane were silent. Xie Ci and Gu Wan approached the weathered black gate.

Xie Ci drew his slender goose-quill saber, stepping forward to shield Gu Wan.

Gu Wan was skilled, but against someone like Xie Ci, trained from childhood in internal arts, she’d be at a disadvantage. Xun Xiao was such a master.

Xie Ci pushed the door with his saber scabbard, nothing happened; he knocked, just like any neighbor.

Knock, knock, knock.

Gu Wan had no objection, stepping back. As Xie Ci knocked, she glanced around the courtyard she’d already surveyed—and was startled.

Blind!

Just moments ago, the yard was empty save for laundry fluttering on the bamboo pole. Now, beside the main house’s door, stood a man!

He was tall, but what struck Gu Wan at first glance wasn’t his height.

It was the blood-red mixed with charred black, the unique scars of burns—twisted and uneven—covering half his face, even the scalp, with a large bald, raw patch. His left eye socket was misshapen, that eye glaring crimson, terrifying. He looked like a demon crawling from hell.

His left wrist dangled empty, the flesh equally raw and twisted. When the wind stirred his sleeve, Gu Wan saw the bare, scarred arm.

Caught off guard, she jumped.

Heavens! Gu Wan wasn’t afraid of corpses, had seen many wounded, but his appearance and gaze were so frightening that even prepared, she felt her adrenaline surge.

Xie Ci quickly turned and stepped in front of her, locking eyes with Xun Xiao. Even he was shaken.

Xun Xiao, renowned young scholar-general of the northern frontier, silver armor and white robe, known as the “Fair-Faced Lord.”

He was the eldest son of Xun Rongbi, governor of Suzhou, but what lingered most in people’s minds was his excessively handsome visage.

Gentle, refined, as bright as the moon in the wind.

Xun Xiao said coldly, “Is it terrifying? Do I look like a ghost? Ha… ha ha ha…”

His voice sounded as though rubbed raw by sharpest grit, scorched by flames for days on end—his vocal cords ruined. The sound, like a demon from the abyss, was so harsh it felt like a rasp scraping at the eardrums and heart, making one’s insides shrink.

Xun Xiao laughed hoarsely, features contorted. “All thanks to your wonderful uncle and cousin!”

He hated them bitterly. Only now did he realize he and his mother had been a joke.

His mother, Lady Pei, was dead, silenced.

The father he had revered for thirty years was a monster in human guise! The brother he had cherished like his own, was a Northern Rong bastard, full of malice from the start!

He longed to tear their throats, drain their blood, make them suffer every agony before death!

He hated, hated everything and everyone connected to Xun Rongbi and Xun Xun, those two villains!

Xie Ci showed not a flicker of emotion, coldly replying, “They are your father and brother.” Facing such a sharp attack, he countered without hesitation.

Xun Xun was nearly mad! He screamed, lunging wildly; Luo Qian burst from the house, knelt, and clung to his legs, pleading desperately.

“Fourth Young Master, my master is ill—when provoked he loses control, but with medicine he’ll get better.”

“Xun Er is not my master’s blood brother—he was brought back by the general before marriage, said to be an illegitimate child, actually older than my master. The second son had died young, so he took that title.”

Lady Pei was kind, Xun Rongbi pleaded with her, and she accepted Xun Xun, giving him everything her own son had, treating him as her own.

Who could have guessed he was Daylian Princess’s orphan, a vengeful Northern Rong child, plotting for twenty years, only to reveal his true face in one stroke.

Xun Rongbi’s past was unknown to Lady Pei and her son, yet they bore all the consequences!

Luo Qian remembered seeing the eldest son again, tears streaming, “Please, Fourth Young Master, we’ve found what you want to know—my master isn’t usually like this,” mainly because Xie Ci’s appearance had triggered Xun Xiao. If he waited, tomorrow his master would recover and answer everything.

“Please, please, Fourth Young Master.”

Xun Xiao, crazed, struggled and shouted, even neighbors were alarmed, children calling, “The madman’s going to hit someone again!”

Luo Qian pleaded, hurriedly dragging him inside.

Xie Ci sheathed his blade with a sharp “swish.” In Xun Xiao’s state, there was truly no way to communicate further.

Wan, are you alright?

Xie Ci immediately turned. From beginning to end, Gu Wan hadn’t spoken; Xun Xiao’s appearance was indeed frightening, he worried she was scared.

No, no.

Gu Wan, of course, wasn’t scared—just startled at first. She waved her hand, tiptoed to watch Luo Qian and Xun Xiao dragged inside, then finally withdrew her gaze.

She was surprised, but more amazed.

Holy moly.

Wasn’t this “Ghost Hand”?

Gu Wan hadn’t expected to encounter such an important character here.

In the original trajectory, Xie Ci—the war god who shot across the sky like a meteor—had a near-supernatural strategist in his army, known as “Ghost Hand.” His face was ruined by burns, his left hand gone below the wrist, only a scarred arm remained.

Wait.

So these two were cousins?

Gu Wan had worried her presence might prevent him from meeting Ghost Hand.

Now she realized, their similarity wasn’t coincidence, but inevitability. She scratched her head—though their relationship seemed strained.

Twilight fell, the sun’s last rays fading, night’s chill settling in.

Xie Ci stared at the main door of the courtyard, then took Gu Wan back to the inn.

He and Xun Xun had a blood feud; they would return tomorrow.

Unlike Gu Wan, who, upon realizing Xun Xun was Ghost Hand, became excited—almost certain Xun Xiao would be invaluable—Xie Ci regarded Xun Xiao only with cold appraisal.

Because Xun Xiao bore the Xun surname—even if reason said he too was a victim, after Xun Rongbi, Xie Ci could not feel any closeness.

Unlike his previous life, unknown to Xie Ci, he now had family, and Gu Wan. Different times, different people—he no longer needed Xun Xiao for warmth.

Xie Ci expertly struck a fire starter, lighting the oil lamp as he spoke.

Gu Wan rested her chin on her palm at the table, watching Xie Ci’s elegant, handsome profile. The lamp flared to life, casting a warm glow on his dark brows and starry eyes—he was now unmistakably handsome.

His features had grown, losing some delicacy, gaining boldness—ever more striking.

On reflection, this was a good thing.

To have harmonized so deeply with such an extreme Xun Xiao, he must have been terribly lonely. Gu Wan thought so, and immediately let go of any lingering regret.

Hey, Xie Ci!

Calling his true name, Gu Wan lowered her voice, leaning in.

Xie Ci extinguished the fire starter, turned, and her face was right there—he could see every long, black eyelash, every detail in her eyes.

He uttered a questioning “Hm?”—his heartbeat suddenly quickened.

What is it? Xie Ci braced the wall, whispering too.

Gu Wan giggled. “Xie Ci, do you remember what day it is?”

Xie Ci was puzzled.

Knew he’d forget.

Eighteenth day of the twelfth month—Xie Ci’s seventeenth birthday.

She smiled, waving the letter in her hand. “Forgot, didn’t you? Luckily, Second Sister-in-Law and Mother sent word early.” Xie Ci was stunned.

So today was his birthday.

[Due to some interruptions, updates will be delayed until 10 PM tomorrow~]