Three days later, Jiang Ci dragged Lu Yan down the mountain.
There was no other way; they had run out of food. The little bit left at the bottom of the rice barrel had only lasted for three days. She scraped the burnt crust from the bottom of the pot, softened it with water, drank half herself, and fed the other half to Lu Yan. He couldn't swallow, so she pried his mouth open with a spoon and poured it in bit by bit. More spilled out than went down. She wiped it away again and again, until even the last trace of the burnt crust was gone.
She stood by the stove, staring blankly at the empty rice barrel for a long time.
There was no food left here, so they had to move to a place that had some. As for where they could go—the Central Continent was completely out of the question. For two weaklings whose combined bounties could fund an entire sect, going to the Central Continent would be like hand-delivering themselves to their pursuers.
She recalled what Lu Yan had said to her before: “Your head is worth ten thousand spirit crystals, and mine isn't cheap either.” She hadn't taken it seriously then, but she did now. They couldn't go to the Central Continent, nor could they go anywhere under the influence of the Central Continent Alliance. Where else could they go?
Over the past three days, Jiang Ci had pondered this with her seemingly dim-witted—and actually not-so-bright—brain. If she were alone, she would have simply undergone corpse liberation, picked a spot with good feng shui, pointed her head to the east and feet to the west, and lain down comfortably. But she was carrying someone else—someone very important, someone she couldn't let die. Therefore, she had to find a place where they could survive.
As to where this place was, she had some idea.
A society built on personal connections—this concept was the same in any world. Whether ancient or modern, in a cultivation world or a high-martial-arts world, the rules of how society operated had never changed.
Jiang Ci had no friends and no relatives. Her relatives had all died decades ago. But Lu Yan had friends. The people from the Abandoned Guest Hall had to be his friends.
She thought of Hong Jiu, Chen San, Du Qi, and Yao Wu. She pictured Hong Jiu leaning against the doorframe with a pipe in her mouth, Chen San carrying his axe on his shoulder, Du Qi writing in his ledger, and Yao Wu shirtless in his large underpants. If they weren't friends, what were they?
Jiang Ci didn't know. She had never had friends, so she didn't know what friendship was supposed to look like. But she knew that Du Qi wouldn't harm him, Hong Jiu wouldn't harm him, Yao Wu wouldn't harm him, and Chen San wouldn't harm him either. They would help save him, or at least provide him with a hot meal.
That was enough.
She remembered that the city connected to the teleportation formation was called Everspring City. She had never been to Everspring City. Back when she still had her cultivation, it hadn't been under her jurisdiction, and she had been too lazy to visit. The Northern Border was too vast for her to handle everything. However, she had seen it on a map; going northeast from Black Mountain Fort for over three hundred miles, crossing this mountain, and they would arrive. Three hundred miles... in the past, flying on her sword, it would have taken her only the time it took for a stick of incense to burn. Now, traveling on foot, she didn't know how many days it would take.
She packed her things. The most important item was actually that half-bag of rice. She swept up the thin layer of rice grains from the bottom of the barrel and gathered them together; it amounted to less than a single bowl. She poured the rice into a cloth bag and tied it to her waist. The rest of her belongings weren't very important, but she brought them along anyway.
A sword, a pot, a bedroll, two porcelain bowls, and a person. She tied up the bedroll, slung it onto her back, strapped the pot on top of it, and secured them tightly with rope. She stuffed the two porcelain bowls into the gaps of the bedroll, clinking and clanking as she walked. Qinghan was sheathed at her waist, its scabbard knocking against the rim of the pot, adding to the clanking. She helped Lu Yan up from the bed, hoisted him onto her back, and bounced him slightly; he felt lighter than he had a few days ago.
The path was difficult. Few people had ever climbed this mountain, so there was no established trail. Shrubbery grew wild, thorns covered the ground, and vines tangled between the trees like invisible nets. Jiang Ci drew Qinghan from her waist. Supporting Lu Yan with one hand, she swung the sword with the other to clear a path. The blade sliced through the thorns, sending shattered leaves flying, some landing in Lu Yan's hair. She reached up to brush them off his face and kept walking. Their progress was slow. After walking for most of the day, she could still see the ruins of Black Mountain Fort when she looked back. Grayish-white smoke still drifted toward the sky, like a rope tethering the heavens. She glanced at it, turned her head back, and continued forward.
“Whew... whew...” Jiang Ci panted heavily, sweat dripping from her hair onto Lu Yan's face and dry, cracked lips. He licked his lips—not because he had awakened, but out of pure instinct. She stopped, using her sleeve to wipe the sweat from his face, and then from her own. Her clothes were thoroughly soaked with sweat, clinging tightly to her body and outlining her figure, which was quite beautiful, though unfortunately there was no one to appreciate it. Lu Yan's eyes remained tightly shut. Hoisted on her back, his head rested on her shoulder, still showing no signs of waking. However, his complexion had grown slightly rosier, showing that Jiang Ci had taken good care of him over the past few days. She had given him everything edible she could find, while she herself ate whatever wild vegetables or weeds she could identify as likely non-toxic. They were bitter. She didn't know how much longer she could hold out, but regardless, he could not die.
“Whew...” Her physical strength was completely depleted. Jiang Ci sat down under a large tree, gently lowering Lu Yan to lean against the trunk. She grabbed a handful of raw rice from the cloth bag and chewed on it. The grains were hard, hurting her teeth, and it took a long time of chewing before she could swallow. There was no rice water left, and lighting a fire to cook rice was impractical. Besides, the rice in the bag wasn't enough to sustain both of them over such a long journey. She glanced at Lu Yan. His lips were peeling and split with bloody cracks. If I use the sword, it might get infected...
Frowning, she bit down on her left index finger. She needed her right hand to clear the path, so she couldn't injure it. Bright red beads of blood welled up from her fingertip. She brought her finger to Lu Yan's mouth, gently parting his lips, and let the blood drip in, drop by drop. The crimson droplets fell onto his pale lips, staining the cracks red like plum blossoms blooming in the snow. Looking at his vivid red lips, Jiang Ci's furrowed brow relaxed, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She was still alive, and he was still alive. That was enough.
Her physical strength slowly recovered. Having rested enough, she noticed the sky was growing dark. The sun had already sunk past the other side of the mountain, leaving only a streak of dark red light on the horizon.
Jiang Ci hoisted Lu Yan back onto her back, bounced him to adjust the weight, tightened the ropes of her bedroll, and gripped Qinghan in her hand before continuing forward. She didn't know how much longer she would have to walk, nor did she know how far Everspring City was. She only knew that she had to keep moving forward and could not stop. If she stopped, she wouldn't be able to get back up.
She wasn't afraid of dying; she was afraid of Lu Yan dying. Carrying him on her back, she stepped into the deepening night.
Behind them, the ruins of Black Mountain Fort were still smoking, the grayish-white plumes growing fainter in the twilight, like a thread on the verge of snapping. She walked in front while he rested on her back, their shadows overlapping under the moonlight, blending into one.
The mountain path was still long, and she did not know how much longer she would have to walk.
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