Thinking back to when she first met him, his domineering aura and the way he had a servant flayed alive for her sake—though at the time, his feelings for her might have been nothing more than a fleeting sympathy born of shared suffering—their subsequent interactions painted a different picture.
This man, cold and indifferent to everyone, even earning the moniker of a “living Yama” for his ruthlessness, showed her an unusual kindness. Even when she deceived him, hid things from him, or even took advantage of him, he remained courteous to her.
And now, for her sake, he sacrificed ten years of his youth and even his inner strength. Though her uncle had assured her that if he went to Daqi, there were ways to restore his cultivation and vitality, Wanqing couldn’t help but feel uneasy recalling her uncle’s parting words.
Would he truly protect her with his life, as he had promised?
The road ahead might be fraught with hardship, but every moment spent with him now filled her with gratitude and joy. She wished only to stay by his side, living a peaceful life free from strife and disturbance.
She wasn’t entirely sure if he could endure the obstacles and trials her uncle would set—a test, her uncle had said, to prove whether his love for her was genuine. Though Wanqing was deeply grateful for his sacrifices, and though she reminded herself that no ordinary man could endure what he had for her, the memory of her past life’s struggles made her silently accept her uncle’s decision.
Gazing at him now, his face pale but serene as he rested against her, his eyes closed like a child’s, something tender stirred in her heart. She smiled softly, closed her own eyes, and leaned into him, trusting him completely.
The carriage, prepared by the maids Honglian and the others, was cozy and comfortable. Though it was early autumn and an unseasonably cold wind blew outside, her heart was warm—because he was with her.
After a full day’s journey, they arrived at a post station as night fell.
“We’ve been traveling nonstop for a day. Everyone must be exhausted. Why don’t we rest here tonight and continue tomorrow?”
As Qingfeng halted the carriage before the station, Wanqing considered the suggestion. Though the hardship meant little to her—and a voice inside urged her to press on, eager to reach her birth mother and provide treatment—she recalled her uncle’s assurance that time was not yet critical.
Glancing at the man beside her, who had opened his eyes as the carriage stopped, she noted the weariness in his brow. Though he said nothing, her heart ached for him. She voiced her decision to the riders outside, seeking his opinion.
“I don’t mind either way. But if you’re tired, we can rest here tonight and leave tomorrow.”
Seeing her hesitate and the others looking to him, Leng Mingye felt a pang of disappointment. Still, he smiled gently and replied, “Then let’s stay the night. There’s no harm in resting.”
Though he was clearly exhausted, his stubborn refusal to show weakness made Wanqing both exasperated and fond. She decided they would stay.
Despite their travel-worn appearance, their fine attire and striking looks drew attention as soon as they entered the post station. The manager courteously ushered them inside and arranged rooms for them.
After dinner, Wanqing turned to Leng Mingye. “This is my first time stopping at a post station outside the capital. Why don’t we take a walk outside? It’s still early.”
Since her transmigration, she had rarely ventured into nature. Though they had only traveled a day, the scenery here was uniquely charming. Before her current life, she had loved traveling when not occupied with alchemy and missions. Eager for a rare moment of relaxation, she made the suggestion as they returned to their rooms.
“Very well. Let’s take a stroll. The rest of you needn’t follow.”
Delighted by her childlike enthusiasm, Leng Mingye—though longing only to collapse into bed—indulged her with a fond smile. As they stepped outside, Qingfeng and the others moved to accompany them, but he waved them off.
Once alone, they wandered toward a nearby field.
“Look at all these flowers! So many little blooms, and the air is so fresh, filled with their fragrance. Isn’t this place beautiful, Leng Mingye?”
Dashing into the field, Wanqing spun among the yellow and white blossoms, arms outstretched. She turned to him, eyes sparkling, inhaling the sweet scent.
“It is beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve been somewhere like this.”
Though his body ached from the day’s journey, her joy was infectious. He watched as she danced lightly among the flowers, then joined her, admiring the sparse shrubs and the golden grass dotted with wildflowers. The open landscape filled him with an unexpected sense of peace.
“Don’t move. You look lovely.”
As she bent to examine the flowers, plucking a few, he gathered some long grass and deftly wove it into a circlet, adorning it with blossoms. Placing it atop her head, he smiled at her bashful delight.
Unbeknownst to them, their departure from the post station had not gone unnoticed. Two shadowy figures emerged from the underbrush, watching as the couple wandered into the secluded field.
“Well, well. What a pretty little thing.”
The men approached, leering. One reached out to tilt Wanqing’s chin, but before his fingers could touch her, Leng Mingye struck his hand away and pulled her protectively against him.
“How dare you? Keep your filthy hands to yourselves. Who are you?”
His voice was ice. The men exchanged glances, undeterred. The one who had spoken smirked.
“Just a couple of travelers, looking for some fun. Why don’t you share your lovely companion with us?”
Leng Mingye’s eyes darkened. “You’ll regret those words.”
Before the men could react, he moved—swift as a shadow. A sharp crack echoed as the first assailant crumpled, clutching his broken wrist. The second barely had time to draw his dagger before a kick sent him sprawling into the grass.
Wanqing gasped, but Leng Mingye’s grip on her remained firm. “Stay close.”
The men scrambled up, their bravado fading. “You’ll pay for that!”
Leng Mingye’s smile was lethal. “Try me.”
The fight was brief. Within moments, both men lay groaning on the ground, their weapons scattered. Leng Mingye turned to Wanqing, his expression softening. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, though her hands trembled slightly. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
He brushed a stray petal from her hair. “Let’s return. This place has lost its charm.”
As they walked back, the post station’s lanterns glowed warmly in the distance. The night air, once fragrant with flowers, now carried the faint metallic tang of blood.
But for Wanqing, the warmth of his hand in hers was enough to banish the shadows.
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