Before she had time to recover from the shock of what she had just witnessed, the god-like man suddenly swayed and started to collapse. She rushed over and caught him with her body, pressing one hand against his chest, then slowly turned around so he leaned against her back. Grabbing his arms tightly, she took a deep breath, braced her core, and staggered with him on her back toward the edge of the dense forest.
Despite using every ounce of strength she had, she failed to get out of the woods before nightfall. The man didn't look particularly heavy, but in reality, he weighed a ton.
She propped Zhang Qiling against a tree, bent over with her hands on her knees, and panted heavily. After a long moment, she untied the water flask from her waist and took a sip. She wanted to give the man a sip as well, but no matter what she tried, he couldn't swallow it. Standing over the unconscious man, she found herself in a real dilemma.
A slight blush crept across her cheeks as a thought crossed her mind. She murmured under her breath, "I really have no other choice left, I have to do it this way. If you don't speak, I'll take that as your consent..."
With that, she picked up the flask again, took a mouthful of water, and bent down. With one hand supporting the man's head and the other pinching his chin, she tilted his head back slightly and pressed her red lips against his. As she gently stroked his throat, she slowly transferred the water into his mouth.
When she finished, she wiped away the water droplets from the corners of his mouth and reached out to tidy his bangs. Not knowing whether he could hear her or not, she instructed, "Be a good boy and stay here. Don't wander off, I'm going to find some firewood."
With Mo Shanshan's efforts, a campfire was finally lit. The orange-red flames cast a warm glow over the man's pale face, his bangs hanging diagonally across his forehead.
By the firelight, she tended to his wounds, took off her own coat to cover him, and then sat cross-legged to resume her cultivation. Although she hadn't found her Natal Object yet, she could still circulate her vital energy through her meridians.
The next day, Zhang Qiling still hadn't woken up. Mo Shanshan carried him out of the forest, picked a direction, and continued on their journey of flight.
For several days in a row, no one pursued them from behind. Yet Mo Shanshan had a strong premonition that the next ambush wasn't far off. As if to confirm her intuition, the surrounding area was frighteningly quiet—the stillness before a storm.
Throughout this time, Zhang Qiling remained unconscious as Mo Shanshan laboriously carried him through the mountains. Just as they were about to emerge from the vast range, she spotted a village at the foot of the mountain.
She knew the masked men would definitely set an ambush along the only path down the mountain, and she also knew that the chances of her escaping safely alone while carrying an unconscious Zhang Qiling were practically zero.
Fortunately, people lived nearby, and there were no large beasts in the area. As long as she lured the masked men away, there was a chance Zhang Qiling would be discovered by the villagers and saved.
Having weighed her options and made up her mind, she left her dried rations and water with Zhang Qiling and headed down the mountain.
By now, the sun was gradually sinking westward, dyeing the clouds at the horizon a blazing red. Wisps of smoke from kitchen chimneys at the foot of the mountain were faintly visible. The sufferings of the people on the mountain could not disrupt the peaceful lives of the people below, and tonight, someone might die while someone else would live on.
She hadn't walked far before she was, as expected, surrounded by the masked men. Fortunately, she was already a good distance away from Zhang Qiling.
The surrounding masked men hollered and charged toward her with swords and sabers raised high. Yet a smile curved the corners of Mo Shanshan's lips. It was almost over, and Zhang Qiling would finally be saved...
Further away, Zhang Qiling's fingers twitched slightly, his eyelids fluttering, though he ultimately failed to wake up. He could only dimly hear screams and the sounds of fighting, but those sounds were gradually fading away.
...
I do not know how much time had passed. The moon now hung high in the midair, quietly looking down upon the mortal world.
Mo Shanshan stood surrounded by the masked men, her face pale, blood dripping from her fingertips to the ground. Her clothes were stained with vast patches of blood, yet a smile still lingered at the corners of her mouth as she looked up at the moon in the sky. For a moment, the surrounding masked men felt a flicker of cowardice; they exchanged glances, but none dared to step forward.
Come to think of it, this was the first time she had ever carefully observed the moon since inexplicably arriving in this place. In the past, she had never seen the moon—the Kingdom of Dahe had no moon. She had to admit, it was very beautiful. But what a pity: just as the moon waxes and wanes, people experience joy and sorrow, separation and reunion. Neither the moon nor that person could ever be seen again.
She slowly closed her eyes, feeling the evening breeze and the cool moonlight shining upon her, recalling the warmth that belonged to him alone.
At that moment, she seemed to have found her Natal Object. She tried to sense it and found that he seemed a little far away, yet she felt no despair—on the contrary, she felt glad.
The further away, the better. Living well beats anything else.
Her body could no longer bear the burden, and the masked men around her seemed endless no matter how many she killed.
Before she had time to properly say goodbye, she thought: the moonlight that could reach her must surely reach him as well. With this thought, she reopened her eyes, looked up at the moon in the sky, and softly whispered, "Goodbye."
Then she could no longer hold on, and collapsed to the ground.
Seeing this, the surrounding masked men cautiously crept closer to Mo Shanshan. In her hazy state, she seemed to see a middle-income man with large ears and a short stature, his entire body radiating a golden light. Muttering something under his breath, he waved his hand as if swatting away flies, instantly disposing of the remaining masked men and walking toward her. She only had time to utter a single plea—"Save him"—before losing consciousness.
The newcomer was none other than Zhang Xilin. Unhurriedly, he cleaned up the scene. Before long, relying on the faint thread of Qi still connecting Mo Shanshan and Zhang Qiling, he found them, hoisted one under each arm, and headed down the mountain.
Returning to his home, he laid the two of them on the bed and went off to brew some medicine.
Not long after, Zhang Qiling woke up. The moment he opened his eyes, he saw Mo Shanshan lying beside him, her face deathly pale, blood staining her clothes, and her wounds still oozing. Just as he struggled up from the bed, Zhang Xilin walked in from outside carrying a tray. Coming over to his side, he pointed to the medicine on the tray and said, "This is medicine for her wounds, and here is some gauze. She's a young woman and I'm an outsider; men and women shouldn't be overly familiar, so it's awkward for me to handle. Since you're awake, you should tend to her wounds first." With that, he left the room.
Zhang Qiling didn't hesitate. He gently unbuttoned her clothes, revealing a body that had once been flawless but was now covered in scars. His gaze trembled as he carefully began dressing her wounds.
A long time later, he emerged carrying the blood-stained clothes and the tray with the medicine. Hearing the commotion, Zhang Xilin turned around and said, "Young man, are you done? Put that aside for now, come have a bowl of porridge first."
Zhang Qiling glanced at him, took the bowl without drinking, and simply said, "Thank you." Then he just stared at him.
Zhang Xilin understood his meaning almost instantly. Handing him a chopsticks, he said, "No need to rush, eat your fill first. She's unconscious right now, and this porridge is too thick—she might choke. It won't be too late to feed her some thin broth after you've eaten."
Zhang Qiling didn't speak, just stared at him with pleading eyes. Unable to bear his gaze any longer, Zhang Xilin sighed and said, "All right, wait a moment."
Soon enough, he returned with a small spoon and a bowl of thin rice porridge, handing them to him.
Zhang Qiling took the spoon and the bowl, turned, and went back into the room. He scooped up a spoonful of porridge, gently blew on it, and brought it to her lips, slowly parting her mouth to feed it to her. With infinite patience, he fed her bit by bit until the bowl was empty without her choking once. After wiping the corners of her mouth, he stepped out of the room, thanked Zhang Xilin once more, and then finally picked up his own bowl of porridge and slowly drank it.
When he finished, Zhang Xilin tidied up the bowls and chopsticks and said to Zhang Qiling, "Once that young girl's wounds are tended to and the bleeding stops, as long as she's cared for attentively, she should wake up in a few days. Don't worry too much. Get some good rest." With that, he walked into the other room.