After everything was settled, Mei Lin was about to lie down and sleep when she noticed that the man across the fire was trembling almost imperceptibly. The dried leaves beneath him had become wet from his hair, yet he hadn’t uttered a single complaint. Without thinking much about it, she got up and moved him to a dry spot, positioning him so his back faced the fire, leaning against her to help dry his wet hair and clothes. Throughout the process, Murong Jing He only glanced at her once when she first moved him, then gave no further response.
Suddenly, Mei Lin realized that everything was about to change.
* * *
The next day, they didn’t immediately enter the stone forest. In a place where even the soil was poisonous, it would be suicidal for two injured and weakened people to proceed without proper preparation.
Overhead, the gyrfalcon continued to circle tirelessly, reminding them that its master could arrive at any moment. Mei Lin chopped down several bamboo trees, stripping off the branches and leaves. The thickest sections were used to make four wheels, while the rest were fashioned into water containers. Using bamboo segments the length of an arm, the stripped leaves, and long vines, Mei Lin crafted a small, simple cart—about half the size of the one she had previously made with Yue Qin.
She filled the cart with a thick layer of dried leaves, enough wild fruits and edible plants to last them several days, medicinal herbs, and over ten bamboo containers of water.
Mei Lin tied the cart’s vine harness around her waist and half-carried Murong Jing He. Two days later, they finally stepped out of the bamboo forest.
As they entered the barren black transitional zone, she couldn’t help but glance up at the menacing bird that still watched them intently from above. She licked her lips, feeling a sudden urge to roast it.
There was no rain, and the autumn sky was vast and clear. Murong Xuan Lie hadn’t come yet, which was the luckiest thing so far.
When they got closer, Mei Lin realized that the massive stones towering four or five stories high were perfectly rectangular and varied in size, as if they had been artificially carved. But no one would seriously consider that possibility. First, the number of these stones was well over ten thousand, and there were no signs of quarrying in the surrounding mountains, ruling out the possibility of local sourcing. Second, the area's geographical conditions made it impossible to transport such large stones, as there were no nearby canals or roads capable of bearing such heavy loads. Thus, people could only marvel at nature’s craftsmanship, with no other plausible explanations.
The stones were sometimes tightly interlocked, allowing no air to pass between them, while at other times, they were wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side. The ground was eerily smooth, covered in the same black sand that blended seamlessly with the scorched stones. Upon entering the stone forest, it felt as though the sky had suddenly darkened.
Mei Lin, carrying Murong Jing He and dragging the small cart, passed through the two gigantic stones that formed a gateway into the ominous Fireburned Grounds. The smooth, treeless path saved her a lot of effort, but she no longer dared to touch anything nearby for support.
The stone labyrinth was so vast that even without any immediate danger, one could easily get lost. Mei Lin intended to leave markers as they went, but Murong Jing He stopped her. He didn’t explain, but she quickly understood: if Murong Xuan Lie’s men were tracking them, the markers would only serve as beacons guiding their pursuit.
Murong Jing He had largely stopped talking to Mei Lin, except when necessary. He complied with her instructions as long as they didn’t cross his boundaries. Mei Lin, though enjoying the quiet, found herself oddly missing the Murong Jing He who would always be haughty, occasionally complaining or making sarcastic remarks.
The sound of the bamboo containers rolling on the cart was sometimes fast, sometimes slow, mingling with the heavy, dragging footsteps, creating an eerie atmosphere in the dark stone forest. If she weren’t the one making these sounds, Mei Lin would have thought she had encountered something supernatural.
With Murong Jing He not giving directions, Mei Lin had to rely on her own judgment, heading toward Zhishi Peak. The black stones radiated a cold, chilling presence, and the wind that whistled through the gaps between the stones sounded like mournful wailing. Despite the cold, the air in the stone forest wasn’t unpleasant. However, after walking for nearly half an hour, the scenery hadn’t changed at all, as if they hadn’t moved.
Sensing something was wrong, Mei Lin found a sheltered spot to rest and think over the situation. As she struggled to prevent Murong Jing He from falling and simultaneously laid down the dried leaves from the cart to insulate against the poisonous black soil, she realized how foolish it had been not to weave a bamboo mat to save time.
In the end, she had to let Murong Jing He sit on the ground while she knelt beside him, using her body to support his limp upper body as she spread the dried leaves into a space big enough for both of them to lie down.
Once she had laid him down on the dried leaves, she collapsed beside him, her mind racing to find a more efficient solution.
I could bundle the dried leaves together; it would make laying them out easier and packing them up quicker, she thought, her gaze unintentionally drifting toward the sky. Suddenly, she sat up straight.
"How could this be..." she murmured, her face growing pale as a chill ran through her.
The sky, once clear and blue, had somehow become covered in a grayish layer—not quite fog, not quite clouds—hovering just above the stones like a murky haze. No wonder the light had seemed so dim.
That wasn’t the sky. Mei Lin knew this, but she couldn’t say what it was. She turned to look at Murong Jing He, who was lying quietly on the ground, also staring upward.
"Hey..." she called out, realizing he wasn’t going to speak first. After a slight hesitation, she continued, "Murong Wangye, something doesn’t seem right about this place."
Murong Jing He slowly rolled his eyes, finally landing them on her as she stood there.
“Yes,” he responded weakly, without elaborating.
Mei Lin waited for a long time, realizing that she wouldn’t be able to get anything more useful out of him. She sighed, sat down, and began bundling the dried leaves on the ground into arm-thick bundles, just as she had planned.
She started from Murong Jing He’s feet, and as she lifted his legs, she couldn’t help but notice his shoe tips. They had worn down to the point where a hole had formed, exposing his big toe. The sock inside was also nearly worn through. If things continued like this, his toes would soon be in direct contact with the ground.
Mei Lin couldn’t help but feel relieved that she noticed in time; otherwise, she might end up dragging a dead man without realizing it. She thought for a moment, then used her dagger to cut a piece of cloth from her skirt, folded it several times, and placed it inside his shoe. She also tightened the cloth strips around his pant legs and sleeves. She didn’t dare remove any of his clothing for fear that too much exposure might cause him to come into contact with the toxic stones and sand around them. Unlike her, she wasn’t confident that he could survive being poisoned.
After thoroughly checking to make sure that no skin other than his hands, face, and neck was exposed, she resumed bundling the dried leaves.
Once they had rested enough, the two of them continued on their way.
The stone forest seemed timeless, always shrouded in a gray haze. While it wasn’t easy to see the surroundings clearly, it wasn’t completely dark either.
Mei Lin felt as if she had been walking for a long time, yet the surroundings remained unchanged: the same towering stones, black soil, and murky sky, as if the journey would never end. It felt like something heavy was pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Fortunately, she could still feel Murong Jing He’s warm, steady breath against her neck, which gave her some reassurance. At least she wasn’t alone.
Clunk! Something rolled away with a rattling sound—definitely not a stone. Mei Lin paused for a moment but continued forward, only to step on something that made a crisp cracking noise, like the snapping of dry branches.
Mei Lin had no choice but to stop. She knew exactly what that sound was.
She retreated a few steps, laid down some dried leaves, settled Murong Jing He, and then returned to where she had been.
Crouching down, she could see a pile of white bones lying there in the dim light. The rib cage was broken, and tattered clothing hung from it, flapping in the wind. The skull was missing, undoubtedly the result of her earlier steps.
Mei Lin examined the clothes briefly but found them too tattered to identify any specific style, so she gave up. Standing, she made two bows toward the bones before preparing to move on, intending to find the skull and reunite it with the body.
“Come back.” Unexpectedly, Murong Jing He called her back.
Mei Lin was momentarily stunned, feeling a strange sense of joy, and her feet instinctively turned back.
“What is it?” she asked, standing a short distance away, her tone as cold as ever.
“If you walk past that stone pillar, you might not be able to find your way back,” Murong Jing He explained his suspicion without any pretense. His voice was emotionless, merely stating a fact, making her wonder if he would have bothered to call her back if he could move.
“Why?” Mei Lin took a few steps closer, asking as she did so. Truthfully, she was already about seventy to eighty percent convinced by his words. Even she couldn’t quite explain why she trusted him.
“Or, you could go ahead and find out for yourself,” Murong Jing He said nonchalantly, without offering any further explanation.
Mei Lin smiled broadly, then walked over to him and lay down beside him. “Let’s sleep and deal with it later,” she yawned, leaning her back against his and closing her eyes. Though she couldn’t see the sky, her body’s exhaustion suggested that they had walked for an entire day. Since they were stopping here, she decided to rest and gather her strength before continuing.
She hadn’t started a fire, worried that the smoke and heat might cause the toxins in the sand to seep into the air. So, despite having fire starters, she hadn’t brought any firewood. In a place like this, they had to rely on each other’s body heat to get through the night.
Fortunately, there were two of them. The thought crossed Mei Lin’s mind again, and the smile that had faded from her lips returned.
“There’s a dead person over there,” she remarked. “It looks like they’ve been dead for a long time—just a skeleton left.”
Murong Jing He didn’t respond. Mei Lin didn’t mind, though, as she was too exhausted and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
* * *
Mei Lin dreamed of the day she left the dark workshop and met her master. It wasn’t exactly the same, though.
She knelt in a bedroom with intricately carved windows, the air filled with the scent of incense. A figure in a white robe with long black hair stood in the room, watching her with deep, intense eyes. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make out the person’s face, but she felt it should be a man. She thought she should know who he was.
Someone called her from outside the window, telling her it was time to leave. She stood up and walked out.
Just as she was about to reach the door, a violent coughing fit erupted from behind her, close enough to feel like it was right by her ear. She thought the person must be seriously ill and needed treatment, so she reached into her waist to take out some medicinal herbs to offer. But when she turned around, she saw nothing but a headless skeleton, white and ghastly.
Startled, she tripped over the door sill and fell forward with a thud.
With a start, Mei Lin woke up, drenched in cold sweat.
The sound of coughing still echoed in her ears, harsh and desperate—Murong Jing He.
Mei Lin realized she had somehow turned over in her sleep, with her limbs almost entirely wrapped around him. Maybe it was because of the cold, she thought. But instead of pulling away, she tightened her grip, inexplicably frightened by the memory of her dream.
Murong Jing He’s body shook with spasms as the coughing fit grew more severe.
Feeling sorry for him, Mei Lin placed one hand on his chest and the other on his back, gently massaging him. Her thoughts, however, lingered in her dream, leaving her confused and disoriented, completely unaware that her sudden gesture of concern had made Murong Jing He’s body stiffen.
The dream had mixed reality with fantasy, leaving no clear meaning. Yet Mei Lin couldn’t shake the deep-seated fear it had stirred within her.
She had never known who her master was. It wasn’t just her; even the other assassins in the dark workshop, and likely everyone else in their organization, didn’t know. That day was the first time she had seen her master. Although she had been invited into the inner chamber, she had followed the rules and didn’t dare look up. But she had a nose and ears.
So she had smelled the faint fragrance her master carried and heard that cough, that unexpected cough that revealed an unguarded moment. When she heard it, she almost thought she would never make it out of that room alive.
She had once caught a whiff of that same scent on Murong Xuan Lie. Now she heard a similar cough from Murong Jing He. Fate really had a twisted sense of humor.
“Have you touched me enough?” Murong Jing He’s voice, hoarse from coughing, interrupted her thoughts, cutting through the silence of the stone forest.
Mei Lin froze, suddenly realizing that her hand movements had slowed, making them more like an intimate caress than a comforting massage.
“Let go!” Perhaps it was the situation, but Murong Jing He found the position uncomfortable, his voice growing harsh.
Snapping back to reality, Mei Lin awkwardly pulled her hands away and sat up. She glanced at the sky, hoping to determine the time, but quickly realized it was pointless.
“Are you going to sleep more?” she asked. After waking from the dream, she felt even more exhausted and chilled to the bone, making it impossible to lie back down.
“No,” Murong Jing He’s voice returned to its usual calmness, though his body involuntarily shrank from the cold that seeped in as she moved away. He had to concentrate to keep his teeth from chattering. “Help me up.” At some point, he had stopped using the words “your prince.”
Mei Lin didn’t notice this subtle change. She obediently leaned over to help him sit up against her, then pulled the small cart over, took down one of the bamboo water containers, and gave him a drink before drinking some herself. They shared a roasted yam, and the warmth spread through their bodies, allowing them to continue their journey.
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