Limping forward, Wen Tian made his way through the narrow path. Up ahead, the gentle river finally came into view.
He let out a small breath, kneading the sore spot on his waist where he’d been hit. Once he caught his breath, he kept moving.
But before he’d taken more than a few steps, a voice rang out behind him—a voice that made his heart seize with terror.
“Wen Tian?”
It was Chu Xiangtian, calling out as he strode toward him.
A chill shot up from the soles of Wen Tian’s feet, climbing all the way to his heart. His body stiffened.
After a long pause, he slowly turned around, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at the approaching Chu Xiangtian. Behind him stood Zhou Chuanqing and two other men, guarding the path.
He’d been so sure he could escape this time, that he could get out safely—but they’d found him after all.
Bitterness flooded his mouth. A crushing sense of despair washed over him. If they dragged him back now, he might never find his way home again.
Chu Xiangtian was getting closer. When he finally saw the fear and hopelessness etched across Wen Tian’s face, he realized something was wrong and tried to explain, stopping in his tracks.
“I’m not here to—”
But he didn’t get the chance to finish.
Wen Tian suddenly turned and bolted toward the river. His foot was clearly injured—his gait was awkward and off-balance—but even so, he didn’t hesitate.
He ran like a cornered rabbit, sprinting desperately toward any glimmer of escape.
The river was just ahead.
Chu Xiangtian’s heart lurched—he feared something might happen—so he rushed forward and caught him.
Wen Tian was hauled into his arms, but all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his head. He went wild, thrashing and pounding at Chu Xiangtian like a man possessed.
Afraid he’d hurt himself, Chu Xiangtian could only tighten his hold, whispering soft words to calm him.
But Wen Tian was too frightened to hear any of it. He clawed and bit, completely panicked, mind consumed only with breaking free.
Chu Xiangtian finally scooped him up in a firm bridal carry, letting him flail and hit as he pleased. Wen Tian bit down hard on his chest, refusing to let go.
His beautiful eyes were bloodshot, brimming with tears that welled up and spilled silently down his cheeks.
Chu Xiangtian sucked in a sharp breath from the pain and used one hand to pat his back in soothing strokes.
This young master’s bite is no joke, he thought grimly.
Gradually, the struggle in Wen Tian’s body weakened. Between terror and exhaustion, his strength was almost spent.
Chu Xiangtian continued to hold him tightly, as if the boy’s resistance couldn’t even shake him.
Wen Tian, realizing he couldn’t escape, lifted his eyes under the pale moonlight and looked at that sharp, chiseled face… then gave up and closed his eyes in despair.
Seeing him finally fall still, Chu Xiangtian was just about to breathe a sigh of relief—when two lines of silent tears slid down Wen Tian’s cheeks.
This wasn’t like before when he cried out loud. Now he just bit his lip, sobbing without a sound. The quiet pain cut even deeper.
“Don’t cry…” Those tears felt like boiling water splashing directly into his chest. Chu Xiangtian panicked slightly and reached to wipe them away, but his movements were rough and clumsy.
When his fingers brushed against the faint scratches on Wen Tian’s face, he froze.
He hadn’t realized Wen Tian was this scared.
The whole incident with Wen Tian being taken to the mountain—was completely unplanned. But for Chu Xiangtian, this “accident” had been a godsend.
Three years into the new emperor’s reign, the court was unstable and tensions high.
To secure the throne, someone had to be made an example of—a sacrificial chicken to warn the restless monkeys. That’s why Chu Xiangtian had come to Sifang Town: to “kill the chicken.”
In the second year of Emperor Pingchu’s reign, a gold mine had been discovered at the border of Nanming and Xingdong Prefectures—both governed by officials loyal to the Second Prince.
They had concealed the discovery, mining it in secret.
But walls have ears. When word eventually reached the emperor, he flew into a rage. Yet he lacked reliable men to handle it.
So a secret edict summoned Chu Xiangtian back from the frontier and sent him to Sifang Town undercover as a bandit.
His mission was twofold: uncover the crimes of the prefects and identify the gold mine’s exact location and output.
But the mine was tightly guarded and extremely covert.
He hadn’t been able to find a chance to sneak in—until Wen Tian was accidentally kidnapped. That unexpected incident delivered the perfect opportunity straight into his hands.
The Fu family in Sifang Town—now known as the Wen family—was a powerful clan with deep roots.
By keeping Wen Tian on the mountain, they could pressure the Wen family into pushing the government to send troops.
And with local soldiers stretched thin, they’d have to reassign guards from the mine, opening a gap Chu Xiangtian could exploit.
Everything had gone exactly to plan.
Everything—except Wen Tian.
Chu Xiangtian hadn’t expected this soft, delicate young master to actually slip past his men and flee into the back mountains alone.
He reached out and tucked the damp strands of hair sticking to Wen Tian’s cheek behind his ear, then sighed softly at the trembling eyelashes fluttering against pale skin.
“You thought I wouldn’t let you go, so you ran away by yourself?”
“Do you know how many wild beasts roam this mountain at night?”
Wen Tian said nothing, his eyes still closed, but his lashes quivered more violently.
Seeing how pitiful he looked, Chu Xiangtian couldn’t bear to scare him further.
He adjusted his grip, cradled Wen Tian more tightly in his arms, and strode back toward the bandit stronghold.
Zhou Chuanqing and the others stood frozen in shock, mouths agape.
After a long moment, one of the men stammered, “Was that… the boss’s little lover? Were they having a lover’s spat?”
Zhou Chuanqing cast them a profound, knowing glance, then turned and walked away with hands behind his back.
He wasn’t sure about now—but from the looks of it, it was only a matter of time.
Chu Xiangtian carried Wen Tian all the way back. The boy was over a head shorter and much slighter in build—so light and fine-boned that it felt like holding air.
Adjusting his grip, Chu Xiangtian noticed Wen Tian’s eyes were moving beneath his lids. He hesitated, then decided to speak up—this little young master looked like he’d been scared senseless.
“I’ll take you back first to treat your wounds. When morning comes, I’ll send you home.”
“It’s all done now. Let’s just say I owe you a favor…”
Whether Wen Tian was listening or not, Chu Xiangtian said it all anyway, then lowered his head and picked up the pace.
His long strides soon brought them back to the fortress.
Instead of taking him to Xiao Qiao’s house, he brought him directly to his own.
Ignoring the dirt and grime, he carefully laid Wen Tian on the bed and removed his mud-caked shoes. Wrapping one hand around the boy’s delicate ankle, he slowly unwound the cloth from his foot.
The sole was red and swollen, with two blisters on the heel that looked ghastly against his pale skin.
Chu Xiangtian frowned and straightened up.
“I’ll get some medicine. If you’re tired, try to rest.”
Wen Tian forced his eyes open, dark irises filled with deep distrust.
Chu Xiangtian sighed and turned to boil water and fetch medicine.
The boy was filthy—he needed to be cleaned up, and every wound properly treated.
Once Chu Xiangtian left, Wen Tian’s will finally gave out. His heavy eyelids slid shut. The emotional upheaval of the night had drained every last bit of his strength.
When Chu Xiangtian returned with warm water, Wen Tian was already sound asleep.
He gently cleaned his feet, then lit two candles, held silver needles over the flame, and carefully lanced the blisters on his heels.
The sleeping boy winced and curled his toes tightly. Chu Xiangtian softened his movements, blowing lightly on the broken skin as he applied medicine.
The boy relaxed a little, his round toes slowly uncurling—though they still twitched faintly.
Once the wounds were bandaged, Chu Xiangtian massaged the ankle briefly before letting go.
Then he wrung the cloth half-dry and began wiping down Wen Tian’s body.
By the time he’d finished cleaning him, applying ointment to every injury, dawn was already breaking.
Chu Xiangtian glanced at the porcelain-white figure in his arms, then fetched a set of his own underclothes and carefully dressed him.
After changing out the soiled bedding for fresh linens, he tucked Wen Tian gently under the covers.
Not even pausing to rest, he took one last look at Wen Tian’s furrowed brow—then turned and headed down the mountain.
At the foot of the mountain, government troops had already set up camp.
At this hour, most were still sleeping. When Chu Xiangtian suddenly appeared, the patrolling guards startled and instinctively rang the alarm bell.
The quiet camp burst into activity. Soldiers scrambled out, confused and alarmed.
Chu Xiangtian looked annoyed.
“Where’s your commander? Tell him to come out and meet me.”
The patrolmen were so overwhelmed by his presence that they obeyed without thinking, rushing to the main tent to summon the military advisor and local elders.
At first, the advisor considered capturing Chu Xiangtian to claim credit. But after meeting his gaze, all bravado evaporated. He greeted him respectfully instead.
“What do you want?”
“Take your men and leave. By shen shi—that’s 3 in the afternoon—I’ll return Young Master Wen to you.”
The advisor stammered uncertainly, but before he could speak, Fu Youqin’s voice rang out from behind.
“Why should we believe you?”
Chu Xiangtian frowned—until he saw who it was. Then the crease in his brow smoothed out, and his tone softened politely.
“If Madam Wen is worried, you may send someone to accompany me. Young Master Wen and I hit it off right away. I simply invited him to stay as a guest for a few days. I never intended to cause such a stir.”
Fu Youqin eyed him carefully. His sincerity gave her pause.
“You swear?”
Chu Xiangtian nodded.
“On my honor.”
“I’ll go!” came a voice from behind her.
It was Dai Fu, stepping forward.
“Madam, I’ll go up the mountain to keep an eye on the young master.”