Chapter Fifty-five: Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (4)

The cold mountain wind gradually began to blow. Holding her in his arms, he continued to walk at a leisurely pace, his unbound hair draping in slight disarray over his shoulders. Ye Qianran gazed at him without blinking, the moonlight falling into her eyes and scattering into crystalline brilliance. "How did you end up here?" she asked.

Ancient trees of unknown species stood tall on both sides of the path, and the chirping of mountain insects echoed through the silent hills. Even the distant howls of wolves and roars of tigers seemed less frightening at this moment. Though the mountain path was slippery, his steps were steady. "You really ought to thank Juanbi for this," he said. "She searched the entire peach blossom grove to find me, crying and begging me to save you."

The image of Juanbi, her face streaked with tears, immediately surfaced in her mind. Ye Qianran smiled softly. "That girl is always so impulsive, but she treats me so well," her voice choked with emotion.

Wei Zhuang held her tighter and said nothing. After a long while, he spoke quietly, "You must be exhausted. Try to sleep a while. It won't be long before we're out of here."

Though she was indeed tired, at this moment she did not want to sleep. Leaning against his broad shoulder, she said, "You must have been here before, or you wouldn't have found me, nor would you know we can get out. On a night like this, even hunting hounds would lose their way."

Wei Zhuang chuckled softly. "The craftiest creature in these woods is the fox. Hounds can't catch a fox, but when I was ten, I could already chase down an old fox with my bare hands," he replied as if it were nothing.

Ye Qianran, who had been leaning against his shoulder, immediately shifted her body and looked at his face in profile—firm features and a chiseled jaw, all the more distinct under the moonlight. "Really? You're amazing," she smiled, then leaned against him again. "But why were you chasing a fox?"

Her question was as innocent and pure as a child's.

Wei Zhuang laughed silently. "When I was five, my foster parents died in a fire, and I became an orphan. At first, I often ate scraps from others, then I started stealing. When I couldn't steal, I learned to hunt in the forests. I remember one winter, I trailed a stag for three days and nights just to catch it."

So that was his childhood. No wonder she'd always sensed a calm wildness about him. Hunting prey in the endless forest required patience, care, and perseverance. He had spent three days in a snowbound forest to catch a single deer—his nature was indeed fierce, cold, and resolute.

He seemed to smile again, as if mocking himself. "After living comfortably for a few years, I’ve grown so much slower. I should have found you much sooner."

Leaning against his shoulder, Ye Qianran felt the wind, the moon, and the stars of this night, the silent mountain mist, the shifting shadows of trees, the endless blackness of forest and mountain. He carried her along the winding mountain path, a sheer precipice to their right, yet she felt safe. All terror and anxiety seemed to dissolve into nothingness.

As the night fog thickened, the chill grew sharper. The wounds on her body burned and ached, and she bit her lip, clinging tighter to his neck.

Wei Zhuang sighed and walked even more steadily.

She was so exhausted that, nestled in his arms, in the midst of this dangerous and frightening forest, she drifted into a hazy sleep.

When she awoke again, they were standing before a thatched hut. Ye Qianran opened her eyes in a daze as Wei Zhuang carried her toward the hut by the roadside. She asked, "Where is this place?"

He explained softly, "Don't worry, we've made it out of the woods." She struggled to get down, but Wei Zhuang did not put her down. Instead, he nodded toward the door, signaling her to knock. Three light taps sounded unusually abrupt in the dark. An elderly woman, over fifty, her clothes hastily thrown on as if just awakened, eyed them warily by the light of an oil lamp. Smiling, Wei Zhuang explained, "Ma'am, my wife and I lost our way in the forest. We finally made it out, but it's a dark, windy night, and we have nowhere to stay. Would you mind letting us spend the night here?"

Muffled voices came from inside. "Old woman, who is it at this hour?"

The old woman turned back. "A couple who lost their way. They’re asking to stay the night."

An old man then appeared at the door, scrutinizing them. Apparently judging they meant no harm, he smiled and let them in. "My son isn't home right now. You can sleep in his room. The place is simple, so please don’t mind," he said, not sounding like an ordinary country villager.

Wei Zhuang thanked them profusely and carried Ye Qianran into the room. The hut had three rooms; they were given the leftmost one. The furnishings were sparse, only the most basic household items. Gently, Wei Zhuang laid her on the bed. In the lamplight, Ye Qianran was startled to see that he was injured—his right shoulder had been slashed by some wild beast, leaving deep, bloody claw marks. She stared at him in shock—he had carried her such a long way despite his wounds, and she had not noticed at all.

The old woman brought in clean water, and the old man set down some medicine on the table. "We don’t have much here, just these for now. Tomorrow morning, I'll go into town and get better supplies. You two rest easy tonight."

The candlelight flickered as they spoke, though Ye Qianran barely registered their words. She stared blankly at Wei Zhuang’s wound, her mind a blank.

After seeing the couple off, Wei Zhuang noticed her gaze fixed on his wound. He forced a lighthearted smile. "It's nothing, just a scratch." Then he crouched down, taking her leg in both hands. She instinctively tried to pull away, but tugged her broken leg, drawing a gasp of pain.

"Don't move," Wei Zhuang said gently, kneading her leg. "Your leg is broken. I’ll set the bone now. If it hurts, just let it out."

She nodded.

With a sharp crack, sweat beaded on her forehead, and she bit her lip until it bled, but not a sound escaped her. Wei Zhuang looked up at her, seeing the stubborn expression on her pale face, the blood-red lips bearing a strange, wild beauty. He frowned—she was just as stoic.

His Adam's apple bobbed imperceptibly. He brought water to the table and handed her a wet towel.

After she had washed her face, Wei Zhuang returned the basin and saw her still staring at his right shoulder. Smiling, he said, "It's really nothing, just needs some medicine." Turning his back to her, he sat down. "Turn your head—don’t look."

Only when she lowered her eyes did Wei Zhuang feel at ease. He untied his belt and slipped his shirt off his right shoulder. Taking the medicine in his left hand, he bit open the stopper and skillfully sprinkled powder onto the wound, a chill escaping his lips. Ye Qianran limped over to him.

Her gaze fell on his shoulder—four deep, bloody gashes down to the bone, yet he spoke so lightly of them. She snatched the medicine from his hand, determined to dress the wound for him, but her trembling hand betrayed her restraint. He grasped her hand, his voice gentle as dew, "Let me do it."

In the dim candlelight, a moth hurled itself at the flame and was instantly consumed in a wisp of smoke. She pulled her hand free and smiled faintly. "Let me," she insisted, her voice soft but unyielding.

Wei Zhuang did not argue, only watched her quietly. When she finished, he pulled his shirt back up. As she tidied up, Ye Qianran said, "Sir, you've been injured so badly because of me. I don’t know how I could ever repay you."

Wei Zhuang laughed it off. "We may not be close friends, but there’s some bond between us. Besides, you’re Master Ye’s daughter—he’s always treated me kindly. I couldn’t possibly leave you to die."

Ye Qianran handed him the wrung-out towel. "Whatever bond you have with my father, that’s not my concern. But you saved me, and for that, I will never forget your kindness."

A sly smile tugged at Wei Zhuang’s lips. "And what if you never forget? Are you going to offer yourself in gratitude?"

Ye Qianran’s hands paused in her work. Turning to him with a grave expression, she said, "That’s not out of the question."

Wei Zhuang was momentarily stunned, then burst out laughing. "I’d better not. I’ve told you, I’m not the marrying kind."

Ye Qianran laughed as well. "I knew you were joking. I just wanted to see if you’d admit it."

Wei Zhuang laughed even harder. "Your heart is already set on Zhuge Liuyun. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t dare take you. I have few virtues, but when it comes to matters of the heart, I never insist on anyone who doesn’t care for me."

As Ye Qianran made the bed, she teased, "That’s not how the rumors go. I’ve heard sir is quite the flirt, fond of charming young ladies in their chambers. I wonder if there’s any truth to that?"

Wei Zhuang feigned a sigh. "‘Charming’ is a strong word. I’ve never forced anyone. If anything happened, it was entirely mutual."

Ye Qianran sat on the edge of the bed and pretended to scold him. "Sir, you really have no shame. A respectable man would never say such things."

Wei Zhuang stared at her without moving. The intensity of his gaze made Ye Qianran uneasy. She turned her head slightly, eyes fixed on the edge of the bed. "Did I offend you?"

Before she could react, Wei Zhuang was suddenly before her, bracing himself on the bed to trap her. She instinctively leaned back, a flicker of panic in her eyes. "What are you doing, sir?"

He leaned in close, until their breath mingled in the charged space between them. "I’m hardly a proper man—you should have known that. But tonight I realize you’re not a proper lady either. No respectable maiden would ask such questions."

Ye Qianran turned her face away. "If that’s so, it’s only because you’ve led me astray."

Wei Zhuang drew even closer. "Any other woman caught like this would blush. But you—your face is calm, your heart steady. That’s beyond my influence."

As his body inclined further, Ye Qianran found it hard to breathe. "That’s because I know you’d never do anything to me."

"Oh?" Wei Zhuang raised an eyebrow, pressing even closer. "Just because I won’t marry doesn’t mean I won’t do anything. On a night like this, with such an opportunity, a man and woman alone, something ought to happen."

Suddenly a gust of wind swept through the room, the candle flickered and then shone bright again.

Supporting herself, Ye Qianran met his gaze with difficulty. They were so close. "Sir, you do love to tease me."

Wei Zhuang’s smile grew more wicked. Another inch and she would be pressed flat against the bed. A cold gasp escaped her lips, "It hurts…"

Wei Zhuang’s expression changed. He immediately released her, supporting her with gentle care. "Where does it hurt? Did I touch your wound?"

A barely perceptible smile played at her lips. The pain was feigned—he had been careful to avoid her injured leg. How could it hurt? Wei Zhuang’s face darkened as he realized, "You tricked me?"

Ye Qianran barely suppressed her laughter, her face all innocence. "It really hurts…"

"You’re still pretending?" Wei Zhuang’s face grew stormy.

Nimbly, Ye Qianran flipped onto the bed, shoes still on, and pulled the quilt over her head. "You’re the one who started teasing me," she said, her tone a blend of grievance and playful complaint.

Wei Zhuang shook his head in exasperation and reached for the quilt. She thought he meant to take revenge, but instead, he tucked her in gently. "You’re exhausted. Dawn’s not far off. Sleep a bit," he said, his tone earnest and gentle.

Clutching the quilt, Ye Qianran left only her eyes exposed. "What about you? Aren’t you going to sleep?"

Wei Zhuang smiled. "Don’t worry about me. I can sleep anywhere if I want. You go ahead."

Ye Qianran said nothing more and nodded obediently.

Wei Zhuang blew out the lamp. The room plunged into darkness, and all was silent except for the wind rustling the leaves outside. As she drifted to sleep, Ye Qianran knew Wei Zhuang was still sitting beside her bed.