The sound of suona horns and drums resonated in unison as the float carrying the courtesan made its way toward East Street, leaving West Street behind.
Lin Ting, distracted by the scent of blood, stopped watching the spectacle.
With her keen sense of smell, she quickly identified the source of the scent.
It was Duan Ling’s wrist.
“You’re injured? When did that happen?”
She lowered her head and noticed that the color of his wrist guard had darkened, most likely soaked with blood.
Of course, Duan Ling wouldn’t tell her that the wound on his wrist had reopened because he had inflicted it upon himself.
He didn’t respond.
Instead, his embroidered spring blade rang out as it was unsheathed.
In the blink of an eye, it cut through the crowd with a dangerous intent and pierced the floral sphere behind the courtesan.
The sudden strike startled the onlookers, causing them to gasp and step back.
Lin Ting was also confused, her gaze shifting to the floral sphere now impaled by the blade.
Blood dripped down the blade’s edge onto the float.
A citizen exclaimed in shock, “Blood! Could there be someone hidden inside the floral sphere?”
People hesitated between fear and curiosity.
They didn’t flee but stood at a cautious distance, watching the float.
The floral sphere slowly bloomed, as if it were a real flower.
But instead of petals, a living person emerged from within.
Neither the courtesan nor the man beside her seemed surprised by this, though their expressions darkened.
Lin Ting, like most of the spectators, watched the man inside the floral sphere with curiosity.
He was a young man, his cheeks gaunt, his eyes sunken, and his lips pale, cracked from dehydration.
Even in such a miserable and disheveled state, his striking features and extraordinary demeanor could not be concealed.
His clothes were stained with filth and blood, making it impossible to discern their original color.
His hands bore the marks of brutal torture—dislocated joints, missing fingernails, and flesh torn open, fresh blood oozing from the wounds.
Yet, these injuries were not the worst.
The most severe wound was on his waist.
A short arrow was lodged in his abdomen, left untreated.
He had likely been in too much of a hurry to escape the city to stop and tend to it.
Fearing that removing the arrow would cause excessive blood loss and lead to death, he had left it embedded in his body.
Moments ago, Duan Ling had added another wound to the man—his embroidered spring blade had struck the man’s shoulder.
The blood dripping from the blade came from this fresh wound.
Lin Ting found it unbearable to look at.
Just imagining such injuries on herself sent waves of pain through her mind.
Who was this man?
For Duan Ling to strike the floral sphere, he must have noticed subtle clues indicating that someone was hidden inside—someone likely a wanted criminal.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have drawn his blade in the middle of the street and wounded him.
Lin Ting recalled the conversation between the imperial guards and Duan Ling earlier that morning: A survivor from the Xie family escaped from Changxing Alley, severely injured.
Could this man be connected to the Xie family?
She entertained the thought but couldn’t be certain—she had never seen anyone from the Xie family before.
The citizens who had gathered gasped upon recognizing the man’s face, exchanging shocked glances and murmuring among themselves.
“Isn’t that the fifth young master of the Xie family? I thought he was dead! Why is he here on West Street?”
“You must not have heard—he escaped before his execution. He’s quite capable. The authorities have issued a warrant for his arrest. Haven’t you noticed how the entire city has been on lockdown these past few days, with strict inspections at every entry and exit?”
A woman in the crowd asked, “Was he hiding inside the floral sphere to evade the guards and escape the city?”
“Obviously.”
A pockmarked man selling sesame cakes added, “Looks like the courtesan was in on it. They actually dared to help him escape! If it were me, I’d report it to the authorities and claim a reward.”
“But is the Xie family really guilty? What if they were framed? They used to open their granaries for disaster relief, shelter refugees, and hire doctors to treat the sick. They saved many lives.”
“That was just for show. Anyone can put on an act. Watch but don’t get fooled.”
“I just remembered something!” someone suddenly exclaimed.
“That courtesan was the fifth young master’s confidante! They used to compose poetry together and play chess. Their relationship was once the talk of the capital.”
“Now that you mention it, I remember too! It was quite the story.”
A nobleman frequently visiting a beautiful courtesan—not for pleasure, not for romance, and not for lust—was unheard of, leaving a deep impression on those who knew.
“The fifth young master of the Xie family is truly fortunate to have a woman willing to risk everything for him.”
The courtesan ignored the whispers and gossip, stepping forward protectively in front of the fifth young master.
“Fifth young master, you must go first. We will cover you.”
The man beside her, shedding his previously nonchalant demeanor, picked up the embroidered spring blade that had fallen to the ground when the floral sphere opened, using it as a weapon.
“That’s right. Fifth young master, go. We’ll hold them off.”
Xie Wu, his face haggard, pressed a hand to his bleeding waist, his gaze locking onto Duan Ling in silence.
Duan Ling, however, did not look at him.
Instead, he calmly retrieved a bamboo tube, twisted it open, and launched something into the air.
With a sharp whoosh, a red signal flared across the clear blue sky, blooming like fireworks.
This was clearly a distress signal for the imperial guards.
Within moments, they would arrive.
The onlookers finally realized that the imperial guards were coming.
Fearing they’d be accused of interfering with an official operation, they scattered.
Moments ago, the street had been bustling with people; now, only a few remained.
The courtesan hurriedly shielded Xie Wu as they retreated.
Xie Wu was not a fighter—he was a scholar.
Having endured brutal torture, his body was riddled with wounds.
Without help, he would not survive if captured.
He had once saved her life, and the courtesan had never forgotten.
Even if she died today, she would ensure he escaped safely.
As the situation spiraled out of control, Lin Ting remained by Duan Ling’s side.
A merchant must seize every opportunity to succeed.
Duan Ling was now unarmed, his embroidered spring blade having been taken by the other man.
Lin Ting pondered whether she should find him another weapon, but the closest things around them were flowers and food.
Perhaps her constant glancing around drew too much attention, for Duan Ling turned his head and looked at her.
“Miss Lin Qi?”
The implication was clear—why was she still here instead of finding a place to hide?
Lin Ting understood but pretended not to, reaching into her waist pouch.
“I have poison and knockout drugs. Which one do you want?”
Duan Ling glanced at her waist.
“Poison and knockout drugs? You carry those around with you?”
She wanted to say that he was focusing on the wrong thing.
“When traveling, it’s best to be cautious. Do you want one? I can lend it to you. No, I’ll just give it to you.”
“No need, thanks.”
Fine, if he didn’t want it, he didn’t want it.
Lin Ting shoved the nearly retrieved medicine back into her pouch.
“Oh.”
Duan Ling snapped off a branch of thorned wayfaring tree flowers from the float.
The fiery red petals reflected in his eyes, adding an unexpected touch of allure.
Yet, when his gaze shifted toward Xie Wu, a cold and deadly intent surfaced.
The man protecting Xie Wu decided to strike first.
He leaped from the float with agility, wielding the embroidered spring blade in a powerful slash toward Duan Ling.
Lin Ting, standing beside Duan Ling, had to sidestep to avoid the attack, momentarily separating from him.
The man focused entirely on Duan Ling, launching one lethal attack after another, showing no interest in Lin Ting.
Duan Ling raised his eyes, pressing the thorned flower against the blade’s back.
When the man tried to sever the flower with his sword, Duan Ling swiftly withdrew, stepping lightly onto a wooden post beside him before leaping onto the top of the float’s floral sphere.
Seeing this, the man pursued.
The courtesan seized the opportunity to pull Xie Wu toward the shelter of the nearby alleys.
Lin Ting’s gaze followed Duan Ling.
The float trembled under the fierce battle.
The man’s blade cut through the air with force, imbued with internal energy.
He unleashed three consecutive strikes.
Duan Ling bent backward, narrowly avoiding the cold sweep of the embroidered spring blade, emerging unscathed.
The slashes stirred a flurry of flower petals, raining them down like a floral storm.
As the distance between them closed, the man flicked his sleeve, revealing a hidden poison-laced dart aimed directly at Duan Ling’s vital spot.
At the last moment, Duan Ling caught it with his bare hand and flung it back at him.
Simultaneously, the thorned flower in Duan Ling’s hand swiftly wrapped around the man’s wrists, its sharp thorns piercing his skin and drawing blood.
The man gritted his teeth and broke free, ignoring the deep thorns that lodged into his flesh.
Duan Ling’s eyes glinted with a hint of bloodthirsty pleasure.
Casually, he snapped off another branch of the thorned flower and pressed it against the man’s neck.
The damp thorns traced a chilling line near his artery, forcing the man to dodge hurriedly.
Though he avoided a fatal cut, a thin line of blood still appeared on his skin.
The sky, once bright, suddenly darkened as if covered by a thin veil.
Thunder rumbled before the rain even began.
The courtesan, anxious, glanced back at the man fighting Duan Ling and silently mouthed, Jiang Lang!
Yet, she didn’t slow down—if anything, she moved faster.
She knew she had no other choice.
Lin Ting was well aware of her own limits and made no attempt to stop the escaping courtesan and Xie Wu.
Duan Ling was a Jinyiwei (Embroidered Uniform Guard), but she wasn’t.
Lin Ting had a clear head—she wouldn’t take unnecessary risks.
All she cared about was making money, leaving the Lin family with her mother, and, more recently, completing her mission: hugging him.
This wasn’t her problem.
She glanced around and found a sheltered spot under a roof, ensuring she wouldn’t get drenched when the rain came.
Just like that, she vanished from sight.
Across from her, the battered float suddenly shook with a heavy impact.
The man had been kicked off, his face and hands marred by thorn scratches, turning his once-handsome face into a pitiful sight.
Duan Ling, still holding the thorned flower, looked down at him.
Lin Ting squinted and noticed the man’s kneecaps had been pierced by the thorns.
Using his internal energy, he forced the bloodied thorns out and struggled to stand.
But before he could get up, Duan Ling turned and hurled a branch of the thorned flower—not at him, but at the courtesan, who had already run some distance away.
In an instant, the thorned branch sliced through the air like lightning.
Its vivid petals scattered in the wind before the remaining thorned stem struck the courtesan’s acupoint.
She staggered, coughing up blood.
Realizing the dire situation, she swallowed the blood pooling in her mouth.
“Fifth Young Master, go! Don’t worry about us.”
Xie Wu caught her as she stumbled, his face turning even paler.
After enduring prolonged torture, he was now frail, his bony frame barely supporting him.
His once-melodious voice was now hoarse.
“I’m sorry.”
With a crash, the rain poured down, washing away the lingering scent of blood on West Street. Water trickled from high places to low, forming rivulets in the streets.
Duan Ling stepped down from the float, walking toward them through the rain.
Just as he neared them, an arrow suddenly shot out from a high building along the street.
The sharp whistle of the arrow was muffled by the heavy downpour, but Lin Ting’s voice cut through it.
She shouted, “Watch out! An arrow, southeast direction!”
In reality, Duan Ling had already seen the arrow and had a plan to deal with it.
Unexpectedly, someone behind him threw out a thick wooden board.
The incoming iron arrow embedded itself into the board with a dull thud.
The one who had thrown the board—Lin Ting—no longer bothered to stay out of the rain.
She ran toward Duan Ling, rain-soaked.
Duan Ling suspected she had ulterior motives for helping him, yet he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly she was trying to do.
So this time, he remained still.
What happened next left him utterly baffled.
Lin Ting spread her arms and wrapped them around his waist, hugging him.
Her body pressed against his, and Duan Ling could smell the faint fragrance of a woman, mingled with the fresh scent of rain.
At that moment, as she embraced him, he found himself stepping back involuntarily.
That girl doesn’t miss a single opportunity.