The wind grew stronger, and the snow deepened, making the path to the Yangju Hall extremely difficult to traverse.
Her hair was blown into disarray, and the tears in her eyes were dried by the biting wind, leaving behind a raw, stinging pain. Pei Qing recalled the strangeness in his demeanor last night, finally understanding why he had said those words.
Why hadn't she recognized it earlier? That phrase, "Pei Qing, don't marry anyone else," was so familiar.
They had faced a similar desperate situation once before. He was being hunted down, and she was caught in the crossfire. At the edge of a cliff, with nowhere left to run, Xiao Yuan, pale-faced but still wearing that roguish grin, had said, "Xiao Qing'er, I'm sorry for dragging you into this."
She had cried pitifully, desperately trying to stop the blood pouring from his wounds, shaking her head again and again.
Had it not been for him, she wouldn't have known how much worse things could be, subjected to the humiliations and abuse of petty thugs and scoundrels. Leaving home had shown her how much more injustice and suffering the world held.
With blades and arrows closing in, he had no choice but to hold her and leap off the cliff. Heaven showed them mercy; the bottom of the cliff was a river with a gentle current. Pei Qing had used all her strength to drag him ashore.
But by then, the young man was barely clinging to life. Lying in her arms, he was still worrying about what would happen next.
"I might not be able to marry you as a general's wife after all. Don't be mad, okay? There's always... cough, cough... the next life."
"This life... you should just marry a scholar. Don't marry a soldier. They live with their heads on the line every day. You'd be constantly worried and scared."
Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably as she tried to lift him, but he couldn't move.
"No, no, a scholar can't protect you if he doesn't know martial arts. Forget it... marry someone who knows a bit of martial arts, like a constable—they know how to fight, but they don't have to go to war."
"But their salary is so small... Xiao—" The searing pain in his abdomen made him pause for a long time. "Xiao Qing'er, don't marry someone who can't afford rouge and silk dresses, okay?"
"Stop talking. I'll take you to find a doctor. There's smoke up ahead—there must be someone living there!" Her voice was frantic.
But he shook his head, still struggling to smile. "How about this, Pei Qing? Don't marry anyone, okay?" His breath grew weaker. "Have you ever heard of corpse collectors?"
Pei Qing stared at him in disbelief. Corpse collectors made their living gathering bodies, which were either sold to wealthy families for burial as ghost brides or to doctors for testing poisons. Most of the bodies ended up dismembered and tossed into mass graves to feed wild animals.
Xiao Yuan said, "When I die, don't bury me—burials are expensive. You... you can sell my body to a corpse collector. A young, strong body like mine should fetch a few taels of silver! You can use it as traveling money."
As he spoke, his bloodied hand pulled out a jade pendant, chipped at one corner. "Then take this to Nanchuan and find a man named Chu Li. He's my closest friend, we grew up together. He'll give you all my money—make sure you take it. Then... have him hire a bodyguard from a security bureau, one that even mountain bandits and thugs are afraid of, to escort you home, okay?"
Pei Qing shook her head, sobbing, but Xiao Yuan could no longer speak to comfort her.
Those were his dying words, meant to ensure she wouldn't suffer. And when he said those words again last night, it was because he knew he had chosen a path that would lead to his death.
Pei Qing saw the words "Yangju Hall" in the distance. Just then, there was a loud explosion outside the palace, as if something had been blown apart. The sounds of clashing swords and battle cries grew nearer. Her heart clenched, and she forgot all about proper etiquette and ran, lifting her skirts to speed her way.
She wouldn't let him die.
Just like before. Pei Qing didn't know how she had managed it back then, or how she had found the strength to carry a man much taller and heavier than herself for miles to a village with a traveling healer.
Xiao Yuan always boasted about his good fortune, claiming to be the son of destiny. She hadn't believed it at first, but after meeting that divine doctor and witnessing Xiao Yuan's miraculous recovery, she believed.
He was someone favored by the heavens—he wouldn't die easily.
Another explosion rang out, and Pei Qing looked over sharply. The sound was that of something striking the palace gates. Arrows dipped in oil were being fired into the compound.
When Pei Qing burst into the inner hall of Yangju Hall, Xiao Jing was sitting there, his expression calm. "You're here."
Without hesitation, Pei Qing knelt before him.
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