The house was actually quite good: it had a stone foundation and wooden beams. Though the walls were made of earth, they were packed solidly, without any visible cracks. The house had three main rooms, a kitchen, a woodshed, carved wooden windows, and even a yard. Though it was a bit worn down, it was still better than most houses in the village. However, the hunter initially didn’t want them to live there. He said that if they truly intended to stay, the villagers could help them build a new house. This was because the original inhabitants of the house had all died off one by one in the past few years, leaving no survivors, and the villagers believed the house was cursed. For this reason, no one had dared to touch it for a long time.
Mei Lin didn’t mind at all. For her, having a place to stay was already a blessing—there was no need to be picky. She was even somewhat grateful that the house’s reputation kept others away; otherwise, they wouldn’t have had the chance to claim it. With her insistence, the hunter had no choice but to agree, though he did give her several warnings before they moved in.
Once inside, seeing the items left behind by the previous owners, Mei Lin felt a renewed sense of gratitude.
From pots and pans to bedding and clothing, everything was there, albeit old and covered in dust and dampness from disuse. Yet, everything was neatly arranged, untouched by others. This showed just how deep the villagers' superstitions about the house ran.
Mei Lin didn’t mind. In fact, she was penniless and had no way to quickly gather all these things. The hunter and the other hospitable villagers were themselves too poor to offer much help.
Mei Lin felt that her luck was slowly turning for the better.
The following days were busy for her. She cleaned the house, washed the bedding and old clothes, and took advantage of the sunny weather to dry everything out. She also burned mugwort to drive away the dampness and odors. Additionally, she went into the mountains, hunted a deer and some wild chickens, and lived off them for several days. Compared to the household chores, food wasn’t much of a concern for her.
When she finally had a moment to rest, Murong Jing He was still unconscious, but his breathing had become steady, as if he were simply in a deep sleep. This made her uneasy, so she sought out the old man in the village again.
The old man stroked his white beard and thought for a long time before shakily suggesting that ginseng might work. After saying this, he sighed deeply, knowing his words were probably useless. The people in this small mountain village couldn’t afford ginseng—not even a single root. Mei Lin and Murong Jing He, in particular, were so destitute they practically had nothing, despite not looking like poor people.
Sure enough, after hearing this, Mei Lin was stunned. After a long pause, she asked, “Is there any ginseng in the mountains?”
The old man shook his head.
Mei Lin then asked, “Where can I find ginseng?”
“The pharmacies in the city should have some,” the old man replied, then sighed again.
Mei Lin thanked him and slowly walked back home. On the way, she ran into the hunter, who told her that the city was several dozen miles away, and it would take the villagers two or three days to make the round trip.
“Is it the capital?” Mei Lin suddenly realized she didn’t know where exactly they were or how far they were from Zhaojing.
The hunter looked surprised for a moment, then laughed, “Of course not. I’ve heard the capital is several hundred miles from here. This is Anyang.”
Mei Lin was stunned. It wasn’t until she returned home that she fully grasped it. She hurried to the side of the still-unconscious Murong Jing He, leaned close to his ear, and whispered, “We really made it near Anyang.”
Although Murong Jing He’s face was pale, his expression was peaceful and calm, something she had never seen before. The external injuries he sustained during their escape had mostly healed, but he remained unconscious.
Mei Lin didn’t know what was wrong. She would have preferred to face the sharp-tongued, lively Murong Jing He rather than this quiet, powerless man.
“If you keep sleeping like this, I’ll throw you into the mountains to feed the wolves,” she muttered irritably. She gently pinched his prominent nose, straightened his blanket, and then left the room.
Mei Lin was not someone with strong moral convictions. To her, nothing was more important than staying alive. So, when necessary, she was willing to do anything that others might consider wrong. She understood that so-called virtues like honor and shame could only be discussed when one was alive—they had little relevance to someone who constantly walked the line between life and death.
In the beginning, she wouldn’t have put much effort into saving Murong Jing He. After all, they had escaped, and if he died, it would actually benefit her. But now, for whatever reason, she wanted to save him. And once she made that decision, she was determined to bring him back to life. This confidence wasn’t blind arrogance—it came from the fact that once Mei Lin decided on something, she would achieve it at any cost.
So, she went to Anyang, visited every pharmacy in the city, and returned to Lao Wozi with a bundle full of ginseng. She figured it would be enough to last Murong Jing He for a while. She acted so decisively partly because she feared that once she made a move, it might raise suspicions, making it harder next time. Additionally, the poison in her body was about to act up, and she might not have the strength to make another trip to the city.
However, she never expected that when she returned home, Murong Jing He would already be awake.
He was lying there, staring blankly at the wooden window beside him. When he heard her enter, he turned his head. Though his face was still pale, his expression remained as calm as it had been during his coma, and he showed no reaction to seeing her.
“Get me something to eat,” he said, his tone still commanding, without asking any questions.
A flash of surprise crossed Mei Lin’s eyes, but it quickly vanished. She had already taken two steps forward, but then she stopped abruptly, nodded slightly, and carried the ginseng into the kitchen. Soon after, she returned with a steaming bowl of millet porridge.
“This is from yesterday. You should eat something first,” she said, not paying attention to the slight frown on his face. She helped him sit up, propping him up with a pillow, and then smiled as she fed him.
Murong Jing He was a bit displeased, but he said nothing and quietly finished the bowl of porridge. In fact, he had woken up in the middle of the night, while Mei Lin was on her way to Anyang. The room had been pitch dark, with only an occasional glimpse of stars through the window cracks. Faced with the quiet and unfamiliar surroundings, he had felt an overwhelming sense of unease but had no one to ask. This feeling persisted until Mei Lin returned.
He had to admit that when he saw her, the tension that had gripped him all night instantly eased.
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