Chapter 41: Unbearable (1/2)

The mountain wind howled, carrying with it an even stronger scent of blood. 

Lin Ting uncomfortably twitched her nose and was about to take a step back when she suddenly remembered Duan Ling.

He had just caught an arrow shot at her with his bare hand. 

Her slightly raised foot returned to its original position.

He wouldn’t kill her.

Although Lin Ting still didn’t understand why Duan Ling wouldn’t kill her, the fact that he had intercepted the arrow meant he wouldn’t harm her. 

Duan Ling didn’t miss Lin Ting’s small movement. 

His gaze slowly fell to her foot, which had returned to its original spot. 

He watched for a while, like a venomous snake coiling around its prey, then looked up at her face.

Lin Ting’s face was only slightly sweaty from running, without a single drop of blood, clean and pure.

Although many black-clad men he had killed lay around her, not a single drop of blood had stained her. 

Whether it was sheer luck or the skill of the swordsman who had controlled the blade so precisely, no blood had touched her.

Not far away, a leaf stained with blood drooped, and a drop of blood slid down its surface, falling to the ground.

The sound of the blood hitting the ground, “drip,” reached Lin Ting’s ears. 

This wasn’t the first time she had seen Duan Ling kill. 

When he had snatched the sword from the black-clad man, she had already prepared herself for a massacre.

But Duan Ling’s brutal killing methods still shocked her. 

Indeed, those who could become imperial guards were no ordinary people. 

Just the methods of torture and killing alone numbered in the hundreds.

Lin Ting looked at the mutilated bodies nearby and couldn’t help but dry heave a few times.

Looking at normal corpses was one thing, but seeing bodies cut into pieces was another.

Since her stomach was empty, she couldn’t vomit anything, only dry heave.

How had Duan Ling gotten used to this? 

Was this a mandatory lesson for becoming an imperial guard? 

After serving long enough, did they consider this routine?

In the silence of the mountain, Lin Ting’s dry heaves were very noticeable.

Duan Ling, who had been walking toward her, stopped. 

He looked down at his blood-stained hands, then inexplicably took out a handkerchief to wipe the blood away before continuing. 

His face was handsome and kind, like a gentle scholar: 

“Miss Lin Qi.”

Lin Ting leaned against a nearby tree, half-crouching on the ground, tilting her head to look at him, her eyes flickering slightly: 

“Lord Duan.” 

She knew he had to kill these people, or else they would be the ones to die.

But could Duan Ling’s killing methods be a little gentler? 

Not so brutal.

Lin Ting tried to imagine his dismembering of bodies as that of a modern forensic doctor.

Since she had transmigrated into this world, her ability to adapt had gradually strengthened.

Duan Ling reached out his hand, as if to help her up, but his hand was half-clenched.

It took Lin Ting a moment to understand his intention not to hold hands, but to grab her wrist.

She blinked, hesitated for a few seconds, then finally opened her hand and grasped his slender wrist.

The moment Lin Ting held Duan Ling’s wrist, his fingertips twitched almost imperceptibly. 

At the same time, a strange feeling welled up in his heart, gradually spreading, stirring beneath the ugly flesh and blood.

This feeling was too unfamiliar for him to discern what it was.

Lin Ting let go of Duan Ling as soon as she stood up. 

At this point, there was no turning back. 

She was now tied to him, like grasshoppers on the same string. 

Even if she hadn’t killed anyone tonight, she was still implicated.

After all, Prince Liang had died right before her eyes, and she had even kicked him before his death.

But this Prince Liang deserved to die. 

Usually, as a member of the royal family, he was deeply favored by the emperor, flaunting his noble status, bullying and oppressing others, and killing countless innocent people.

However, precisely because it was Prince Liang who had died, their troubles were great. 

His death would shock the entire capital, and the emperor wouldn’t stand idly by. 

He would surely send people to thoroughly investigate the murder of his son.

Lin Ting tried to calm herself down: 

“Lord Duan, Prince Liang…”

Duan Ling lowered his eyes, pressed the wrist she had held, and tied the loose strap of his arm guard with one hand, speaking softly: 

“It’s just a bandit who died. Miss Lin Qi, there’s no need to panic.”

Bandit? 

Lin Ting didn’t react immediately, doubting if she had heard correctly: 

“Bandit?”

When Prince Liang had questioned Duan Ling about whether he intended to kill a prince of Great Yan, Duan Ling had mentioned bandits. 

She thought he had said it to make Prince Liang realize his inevitable death, but she hadn’t expected him to actually treat Prince Liang as a bandit. 

Duan Ling whispered: 

“Isn’t it?”

Lin Ting immediately caught on, widening her eyes and lying through her teeth: 

“Yes, it’s a bandit. These bandits were too audacious, daring to target Lord Duan. Luckily, you killed them all.”

Prince Liang could only be a bandit now. 

Tonight, “bandits” had died, and they could live. 

If Prince Liang had died, they couldn’t survive, because this was a world where the emperor reigned supreme.

They couldn’t overthrow the imperial power.

She thought for a moment and said: 

“There’s one thing I need to tell you. I left marks on my way here and sent someone to the Northern Garrison to have the imperial guards come find you. What if they come up the mountain and see Prince Liang…”

Duan Ling said calmly: 

“It’s fine. They won’t see him.” 

He looked up, 

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Miss Lin Qi.”

Lin Ting: 

“I chose to save you. How can you say it’s your fault?”

But next time, could he tell her in advance that he was setting up a scheme, so she wouldn’t have to run around all day and witness such bloody scenes? 

If she had known it was Duan Ling’s plan, she would have gone back to the Lin family to drink sour plum soup and eat watermelon.

Duan Ling was still tying his armguard, his long lashes casting two shadows on his face.

The armguard, which he could usually tie quickly, wouldn’t cooperate today. 

The thin strap slipped through his fingers, falling three times in a row. 

Duan Ling ignored the numbness in his wrist, thinking it might be due to the injury from the dagger that had pierced his hand.

Lin Ting glanced at Duan Ling’s battered hands, remembering the wound in his palm that was caused by her: 

“Let me help you.” 

Duan Ling looked at her: “Thank you.”

She picked up the straps on both sides of the armguard, wrapped them around a few times, almost measuring the size of Duan Ling’s wrist up close, and tied a bow: 

“How’s this? If it’s too tight, I can loosen it a bit.”

Lin Ting wasn’t Duan Ling, so she couldn’t feel the tightness herself and could only estimate by eye.

Duan Ling withdrew his hand: “It’s fine.” 

He took out a bottle of corpse-dissolving liquid and poured it over Prince Liang’s gruesome corpse, as if watering plants.

The moment the liquid touched the flesh, a pungent, acidic smell filled the air, instantly corroding the entire body. 

Prince Liang vanished into thin air, as if he had never been on the mountain.

Duan Ling’s expression remained unchanged, and the hand holding the porcelain bottle was still as fair and elegant as ever.

Lin Ting recognized that Duan Ling was using corpse-dissolving liquid, thinking to herself that he had indeed come prepared. 

Corpse-dissolving liquid was a rare item in the martial world, used to help people dispose of bodies without a trace. 

It was worth a fortune, and she had heard of it before.

No wonder Duan Ling said the imperial guards wouldn’t see Prince Liang. 

When had he started planning to kill Prince Liang? 

The day he was humiliated at Prince Liang’s residence? 

She guessed so.

His scheming was too deep.

It seemed Duan Ling wasn’t just vengeful. 

Did he really, really, really not hold a grudge against her for forcefully kissing him? 

Lin Ting was now worried that Duan Ling was also implementing a “boiling frog” strategy on her.

It didn’t seem like it.

If he were, he wouldn’t have intercepted the arrow shot at her. 

He could have just let it hit her and used it as a way to kill her.

Of course, Lin Ting could have dodged the arrow herself, but Duan Ling didn’t know that. 

Last time, when he had shot an arrow at her under Prince Liang’s orders at the city gate, he had also missed.

What was Duan Ling’s plan?

Was it because of Duan Xinning that he kept tolerating her? 

Then why hadn’t he tolerated “Lin Ting” in the original story? 

Lin Ting thought carefully and concluded that it was because, after awakening, she hadn’t harmed him… setting aside the forceful kiss, she had even saved him.

But then again, was Duan Ling the type to repay kindness? 

Lin Ting didn’t quite think so, but that seemed to be the most plausible explanation.

Regardless, it was always better to be cautious when dealing with Duan Ling.

Lin Ting kept her eyes down, pretending to be invisible for now. 

The matter of seduction could wait. 

She couldn’t possibly seduce Duan Ling in this situation, nor was she in the mood.

Duan Ling, seeing that the corpse-dissolving liquid had done its job, stepped over the spot where the body had been and turned to leave: 

“Let’s go, Miss Lin Qi.”

She jogged to catch up.

There were many mountains outside the capital, and this was one of the larger ones, with complex terrain, dense forests, and darkness that made it easy to get lost. 

Even though Lin Ting had a good memory, she had to rely on the marks she had left to determine the right direction.

To her surprise, after following the marks and walking hard for half an hour, she ended up back at the first mark.

They were going in circles.

It was actually due to the darkness, the rugged mountain path, and the heavy fog that blurred their vision. 

Even with fire to light the way, it was difficult to navigate. 

Plus, the landmarks were all similar-looking trees, and walking for too long weakened one’s sense of direction.

Lin Ting looked up at the sky, trying to use the stars and moon to find her way, but she found it hard to see the sky. 

The towering ancient trees blocked it.

She changed positions, peeking through the gaps in the trees, but the night sky had no moon or stars, only thick clouds, and the light was very dim. 

How unlucky. 

Not even a guiding star.

Lin Ting touched the pendant of the God of Wealth through her clothes: 

“Old man, please show your power and get us out of here.”

The God of Wealth was also a god. 

Surely, he could lend a hand and save them. 

Lin Ting sincerely made her wish to the God of Wealth, then turned to ask Duan Ling if he had any ideas, only to find him staring intently in one direction.

The direction Duan Ling was looking at was eerily quiet, with no sounds of insects or birds. 

It was enveloped in a thick gray mist, damp and dark, like the gaping maw of a massive beast waiting to devour anyone who entered.

Lin Ting stared for a moment: 

“That’s… miasma. It’s poisonous. We can’t go near it.”

It was then that Lin Ting suddenly noticed a mark pointing in that direction, indicating she had walked that way during the day when there was no miasma. 

Now, however, it has appeared. 

So, the miasma in this area appeared at night and disappeared during the day.

The safest option now was to find a place to stay until dawn, wait for the fog to clear, and then find the way out. 

Otherwise, they might get lost in the mountain mist or accidentally enter the miasma.

For ordinary people, entering the miasma usually had only one outcome: death by poisoning.

Reluctantly, Lin Ting suggested: