Bai Shuo's breath caught in her throat, suspended between one heartbeat and the next.
As the legitimate Young Miss of the General's household, she'd graced countless aristocratic poetry gatherings and moonlit banquets since childhood. Noble youths and distinguished scholars had passed before her eyes like cherry blossoms in spring—beautiful, fleeting, and utterly forgettable. Yet not one had ever possessed a face like this.
Star-like temples framing features of devastating perfection—this young man could shatter the hearts of every maiden in the capital simply by keeping those eyes closed.
Of course, this "every maiden" most decidedly excluded the iron-willed little Bai Shuo, whose heart belonged solely to the pursuit of immortality.
"Holy heavens! Is he dead or alive?"
The youth's eyes remained sealed shut, his face bearing the pallor of death itself. Bai Shuo's breathlessness stemmed entirely from the horrifying certainty that she'd just touched a corpse. Only when she detected the whisper-thin thread of breath at his nostrils did she clutch her chest in relief, finally drawing air into her lungs.
"Thank the gods—alive, definitely alive. But where in the blazes am I?"
Reality crashed back like cold water. From somewhere beyond the walls came the raucous clamor of bandits drinking and feasting in the front hall. Memory flooded back—the treacherous donkey's betrayal, the crushing blow from a bandit's saber. Rubbing the tender spot on her head, Bai Shuo scrambled upright and pressed her eye to a knothole in the window.
The view stole what little breath she'd just recovered. Towering mountains encircled a solitary wooden stronghold like dragon's teeth—yet this so-called bandit den possessed neither watchtowers nor roving patrols. The defenses were so laughably slack it bordered on insulting.
How dare they proclaim themselves mountain kings and terrorize travelers with such pathetic security? Were their brains rusted through with disuse? Bai Shuo barely suppressed the urge to facepalm. Still, this remained a bandit stronghold, however incompetent. If her identity were exposed, embarrassment would prove the least of her worries. Being dragged back to the capital by her father—now that spelled genuine catastrophe. Having burned every bridge to escape that cursed marriage arrangement, she absolutely could not return now.
Not when freedom tasted this sweet.
Bai Shuo sprang up with the nimble grace of a cat and darted toward the door. A gentle push sent the firewood shed's door swinging open with barely a creak. Delight surged through her veins—but then something made her pause.
Her gaze drifted back to the half-dead youth sprawled on the ground like discarded laundry. She bit her lip, gritted her teeth, and turned back with a muttered curse at her own soft heart.
Moving swiftly, she stripped off her coarse outer garment and draped it over the youth's still form.
"At least you won't freeze to death," Bai Shuo muttered, giving the youth's limp hand a squeeze. His fingers felt like winter itself. "Sorry, brother. I've got immortality to pursue—can't afford to die in some bandit hole. You... take care of yourself!"
She rose to leave, but her foot caught on something, nearly sending her sprawling face-first into the dirt. Looking down, she spotted a pitch-black object that had rolled free from the youth's waist.
What's this? Compelled by inexplicable curiosity—that dangerous impulse that had landed her in trouble more times than she could count—Bai Shuo bent to retrieve it. The instant her palm made contact, the object erupted with light like captured starfire.
Startled, she dropped it as if burned. The thing bounced with cruel accuracy off the youth's forehead before rolling across the floor, its light extinguishing the moment it left her hand.
The youth groaned, a sound so faint it barely qualified as human. His brow furrowed as a lump swelled on his forehead with comical speed. His face grew paler still—if such a thing were possible—yet consciousness remained frustratingly elusive.
"Did I just kill him?" Panic seized Bai Shuo's heart in an iron fist. Trembling hands checked his breathing, and she exhaled shakily upon confirming life still clung to him. "Forgive me, brother! Pure accident, I swear on my ancestors' graves!"
She backed away carefully, but her hand accidentally brushed the mysterious object again. Immediately, it blazed back to life, casting dancing shadows across the shed's rough walls. This time, Bai Shuo kept her composure, snatching it up for closer inspection.
A round wooden token, no larger than half her palm, smooth and warm like living flesh. Adorable as a plump piglet. The wooden emblem pulsed with soft radiance that momentarily banished darkness from their small prison.
"Wood that glows?" Wonder sparked in Bai Shuo's eyes as her gaze slid covetously toward the unconscious youth. "Is he an immortal? Did I actually stumble upon one? Wait—" Logic reasserted itself with disappointing swiftness. "Why would an immortal get captured by bandits? That makes absolutely no sense."
She shook her head vigorously, bending down to return the wooden token to its rightful owner. But her hand froze midway, fingers curling possessively around the treasure.
"It's pitch black in these mountains. This thing could prove useful—might even be a genuine treasure." She glanced at the unconscious youth, guilt warring with pragmatism. In the end, pragmatism won. She tucked the glowing wood into her robe and hurried toward freedom.
The sharp sound of tearing fabric stopped her dead.
"What—" Bai Shuo spun around in surprise to find the youth's hand locked around her trouser hem with surprising strength for someone supposedly unconscious.
"I—I didn't mean to steal your property! Just borrowing some light, that's all!" Bai Shuo quickly thrust the wooden token toward him, but received no response. Looking down, she found him exactly as before—eyes sealed shut, lips pressed into a cold, distinctly displeased line, yet his fingers remained stubbornly clamped on her clothing.
Guilt gnawed at her conscience like persistent rats. After all, taking another's belongings violated every principle her mother had instilled. But one glance at the pitch-black forest beyond these flimsy walls hardened her resolve. She clutched the glowing wooden treasure tighter, delivered a swift kick to dislodge his death grip, shoved the loosely secured door wide, and sprinted from the stronghold like demons nipped at her heels.
In the main hall, bandits drank themselves into merry oblivion, rowdy with drinking games and coarse jokes. Wu Yong, the second-in-command, suddenly remembered the two captives locked in the woodshed. Alcohol loosened his tongue as he slurred, "Boss, those two soft-skinned brats in the shed can't even lift chopsticks properly. Why'd we drag them back to waste precious food instead of just robbing them blind and being done with it?"
"Shows what you know!" Zhang Chao, the bandit chief, guffawed loudly, taking a triumphant swig of liquor. "Pretty faces fetch premium prices at market. Tomorrow, we'll scrounge up some mountain herbs to patch up the injured one. Once he's healed and cleaned up nice, we'll sell him to the Spring Welcome House in the city for a fat purse of gold."
At this revelation, Wu Yong's brow furrowed with genuine concern. "Boss, no outsider's ever set foot in Mu Xiao Mountain in living memory. Where in the nine hells did this kid come from?"
The wine bottle froze halfway to Zhang Chao's lips. "Did you search the mountains thoroughly?"
"Every cursed inch. The boys scoured the entire range—not a trace of other outsiders. It's like he materialized from thin air. Too damn eerie for my taste." Wu Yong leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You think he somehow knows our village's secret?"
Mu Xiao Mountain lay dangerously close to the imperial capital—a stone's throw, really. Over the years, the garrison troops of Wei City had launched countless raids to exterminate these bandits, always with spectacular failure. Not because the outlaws were particularly fierce warriors, but because no matter how many times soldiers combed these mountains, they could never locate the bandits' hideout. The whole situation reeked of supernatural intervention.
Moreover, these particular bandits maintained an unusual code—they robbed merchant caravans but never took lives. Fearing imperial wrath if word reached the Emperor's ears, the Wei City governor had kept the mountain bandits' existence strictly classified.
Zhang Chao and Wu Yong were originally simple villagers from Mu Family Village, having grown up in Mu Xiao Mountain's deepest reaches. The place existed in perpetual isolation, shrouded year-round in impenetrable mist. Centuries ago, desperate villagers had fled into these mountains to escape war's devastation. Since then, precious few had ever ventured beyond the fog, leaving their existence unknown to the outside world.
Zhang Chao was the village chief's son. On his deathbed, the old chief had revealed a closely guarded secret—their ancestors, while fleeing catastrophe, had accidentally extinguished a great mountain fire. In gratitude, the mountain spirit itself had granted them protection. Only those born and raised in Mu Family Village could navigate the paths to their settlement. Any outsider who entered would become hopelessly lost in supernatural fog and be forced to turn back empty-handed.
When Zhang Chao inherited the position of village chief, he learned this ancient truth. As the elders passed away one by one, the village sank deeper into poverty. So he'd gathered every able-bodied man and, exploiting their supernatural advantage, transformed them into bandits. They raided passing merchants every half-month, and life in the stronghold became surprisingly comfortable. This explained why the Mu Family Stronghold, despite being a bandit den, maintained neither guards nor sentries—they simply didn't need them.
Wu Yong's reminder sent alarm bells clanging in Zhang Chao's wine-addled mind. He lurched to his feet with sudden urgency.
"The one we caught today was seized at the mountain's base. Don't worry about him. But go wake up the unconscious one immediately and drag him here for questioning."
"Yes, boss." Wu Yong scurried away, his men trailing behind like obedient dogs.
The firewood shed door exploded open with a thunderous crash. Torchlight flooded the interior, and Wu Yong's face drained of all color when confronted with nothing but empty space.
Under the anemic moonlight, the dense forest loomed with gnarled ancient trees and eerie gusts of wind that sounded disturbingly like whispered warnings. Bai Shuo had bound the unconscious youth to her back with the cloth garment, the flickering Mu Zhu pendant dangling from her chest as she struggled through treacherous terrain. Every few laborious steps, she carved a crescent moon symbol into tree bark to mark her path.
"Brother, you don't look like someone destined for a short life," Bai Shuo panted, forehead drenched in sweat despite the mountain chill. The oppressive, threatening atmosphere had her spooked to her bones, so she babbled nervously to fill the silence. "If we make it down this cursed mountain alive, you'd better repay me handsomely!"
"Forget about pledging yourself to me—I don't need another marriage headache. Don't need gold or silver either, got plenty of that. But this glowing treasure of yours looks mighty useful. If you know any immortals personally, you'd better point me toward their mountain. Just give me directions and we'll call it—"
Her rambling voice cut off abruptly as her gaze landed on a familiar sight. Sure enough, a half-moon carved into nearby bark—her own handiwork from minutes ago.
"What's happening? Why am I walking in circles?" Ice water flooded Bai Shuo's veins. The eerie wind howled through twisted branches like tormented souls, and her heart trembled like leaves in a storm. "Please don't tell me there's a ghost..."
Bai Shuo was a firm believer in the supernatural—perhaps too firm for her own good. Just as her terror peaked, a wolf's howl split the night air like a butcher's knife. Startled beyond reason, she stumbled badly and fell hard, the cloth binding catching on a branch and tearing clean through. The unconscious youth slid off her back and his head connected with a nearby tree trunk with a sickening thud.
Another lump bloomed on his forehead, now perfectly symmetrical with the first. The impact shook the entire tree, sending sleeping birds fleeing in panicked clouds.
Bai Shuo scrambled over on hands and knees to check on her unfortunate burden. Finding him miraculously still breathing, she momentarily forgot her fear and couldn't suppress a whisper of admiration. "Brother, you're built like iron. My respect is genuine..."
"Light over there! Go check it out immediately!"
The bandits' voices erupted from somewhere behind them, far too close for comfort. A winding snake of torchlight surged through the darkness, drawing nearer with alarming speed.
"Heaven help me, they've caught up already."
Panic seized control. Bai Shuo fumbled desperately to return the Mu Zhu pendant to the youth's chest. As predicted, the pendant's glow died instantly.
Plunged into darkness, Bai Shuo hoisted the youth onto her back once more and bolted forward blindly. Her foot found empty air instead of solid ground. With a yelp of pure terror, they both tumbled down a steep slope in a tangle of limbs. Another brutal thud echoed as the youth's head collided with something solid—possibly a rock, possibly a tree, definitely painful.
Though Bai Shuo landed cushioned atop the youth's body, her arms and fingers were scraped raw by sharp rocks and grasping branches. She reached back instinctively to check on him, but instead brushed against the Mu Zhu pendant resting on his chest.
Unseen by mortal eyes, the pendant absorbed droplets of blood from Bai Shuo's injured fingertips with ravenous hunger. In a heartbeat, it leaped from his body to hers, greedily drawing in her blood through the darkness. Suddenly, the pendant exploded with blinding light, releasing a torrent of spiritual energy that shot like an arrow straight into the young man's forehead.
At precisely that moment, the youth's eyes snapped open, locking gazes with Bai Shuo.
She had never encountered eyes like these before—cold enough to freeze marrow in bone. Yet they possessed such devastating beauty that even as they chilled one's heart to ice, looking away proved impossible.
The young man's brow furrowed slightly, faint displeasure flickering in those extraordinary eyes. Just as his lips parted to speak, her hand clamped over his mouth.
"Shh! Don't speak—someone's hunting us!" Bai Shuo whispered urgently, one hand covering his mouth while the other pointed frantically upward.
"Keep searching! Hurry up! Don't let them escape!" Torchlight danced above like malevolent fireflies as bandits brandished flames, scouring every shadow.
Bai Shuo turned back and once again met the youth's glacial gaze. They were mere inches apart now, close enough that she felt his breath dampening her palm. Her traitorous heart skipped a beat—but before she could process this unwelcome reaction, wind swept past like an invisible blade, striking the back of her neck with precision.
"You—"
Damn it all to the nine hells! Knocked unconscious again! Which bastard just did this?!
Before Bai Shuo could finish her mental cursing, her eyes slowly closed against her will as consciousness fled. She collapsed toward the unforgiving ground.
A pair of hands caught her with surprising gentleness. The young man frowned, genuinely puzzled by his own instinctive actions.
The attacking wind materialized into solid form—a tall, stern-faced youth who immediately dropped to one knee before the beautiful young man. "Master, Cang Shan arrives late. Please forgive this servant's delay."
Not far from Mu Xiao Mountain's shadowy peaks, a group of elite riders thundered forth. Chong Zhao gripped the reins with white-knuckled intensity, his expression carved from stone. The guards flanking him possessed sharp, alert eyes—clearly warriors of exceptional skill.
A scout returned from the distance, and Chong Zhao raised his fist sharply, signaling the entire group to halt.
"Young Master!" The newcomer was Chong Gui, Chong Zhao's personal guard, who reported in hushed, urgent tones. "The Second Young Miss's trail vanished completely near Wei City."
Chong Zhao's expression darkened like storm clouds. "A-Shuo's trail just... disappeared? How is that possible? Search again—search everywhere!"
"Yes, Young Master." Before Chong Gui could wheel his horse away, another guard's shout rang out nearby.
"Young Master! There's someone here—a woman!"
Chong Zhao's head whipped around. The group raised torches toward a small grove where a young woman in white robes lay motionless, soaked in blood.
"A-Shuo!" The breath left Chong Zhao's lungs in a rush. He leaped from his saddle, nearly stumbling in his haste as he ran toward the prone figure.
Under the cold moonlight, the girl slowly lifted her head. Her eyes found the young man's frantic expression, and she reached out one trembling, blood-stained hand toward him.
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