Bab 98: Fleeing from Life and Death (4)
Never did he realize how frail his patience could be. After waiting for nearly two hours, Lan Yixuan found himself growing increasingly restless. The door stood ajar, and although he sat facing it, seemingly savoring his tea, the subtle hints of his restlessness betrayed his agitation.
He rose to the threshold, intending to step outside, but was halted by someone. He contemplated retaliating but, recalling Xuan Yue's previous warnings, he forcefully restrained himself. These people, mere remnants of a primal state, would surely band together to attack if one of their own was harmed. In the Zhou dynasty, he and Xuan Yue might have stood a chance against hundreds, but these individuals were robust and seemingly fearless. After his exhausting days with Xuan Yue, his own abilities had waned considerably.
"Lord Lan, have you grown impatient?"
Lan Yixuan had barely taken a few steps when that familiar voice resonated behind him, igniting a flicker of joy in his heart. The gentle gleam in his eyes, hidden from Xuan Yue, radiated delight that even he could perceive. He chose not to turn around but instead resumed his previous position, observing Xuan Yue as she stood at the door, balancing a wooden tray in her hands.
She had changed into a fresh garment, still as pristine and white as before. Her delicate fingers contrasted with the grayish hue of the tray, making them appear even more refined. Compared to the exquisite craftsmanship of the Zhou dynasty, the tray was significantly larger, holding a wooden barrel covered by something, while the upper left corner displayed what seemed to be a wine pot, and the right likely housed a cup—all made of wood and notably larger than their Zhou counterparts.
Even amidst calamity, one could maintain composure—though that composure was often reserved for others. In this ostensibly tranquil place, just yesterday, he had witnessed a living man devoured by a tree, his flesh reduced to sustenance for that accursed arboreal beast, his bones unceremoniously regurgitated. After Xuan Yue's absence for nearly two hours, how could he not be worried?
Xuan Yue smiled, fully comprehending Lan Yixuan's feelings. She understood him well; had their roles been reversed, she too would have been unable to endure the anxious waiting.
"Are you hungry? I have something special for you."
Xuan Yue lifted the tray and smiled at Lan Yixuan, her eyes sparkling with warmth. Tilting her head to glance at the two men behind her, she spoke, prompting them to leave the room, closing the door behind them out of courtesy.
As Xuan Yue approached, her steps were light and her face radiant. Her ebony hair fell casually over her shoulder, and from a distance, Lan Yixuan caught a faint, elusive fragrance that grew stronger as she drew near. When she settled before him, the scent enveloped him, lingering in the air. Rather than feeling at ease, however, his heart raced, though his expression remained calm, betraying no signs of his inner turmoil.
Xuan Yue placed the tray on the table and, without waiting for Lan Yixuan to speak, unveiled the wooden disc within. A cloud of steam rose, rich and fragrant, momentarily obscuring her own scent, yet he could still see the bright smile on her face—a look of relief and joy.
"What is this?"
Lan Yixuan peered at the charred, yellowish substance wrapped inside, resembling a chicken. "Why did you take so long?"
Xuan Yue chuckled, waving her hand in front of Lan Yixuan. "Look closely; it's quite clean. I just washed it."
Pulling back her hand, she remembered an unanswered question and looked up at Lan Yixuan, her clear eyes sparkling. "It's called beggar's chicken."
As she spoke, she peeled away the blackened yellow layer encasing the chicken. It was still hot, and she blew gently on her fingers before placing them to her ear to cool them down. She continued to remove the outer layer of charred skin, filling the room with a rich aroma that lacked the cloying scent often associated with chicken, instead wafting a sweet, licorice-like fragrance.
"Give it a taste."
Xuan Yue pressed down on the chicken, tearing off a leg and offering it to Lan Yixuan, who did not immediately accept it.
"Lord Lan, you really must overcome your obsession with cleanliness, or else no woman will want you."
Xuan Yue firmly placed the chicken leg in Lan Yixuan's hands, licking the grease from her fingertips and raising an eyebrow with a mischievous smile that made Lan Yixuan feel an impending sense of dread.
"Fear not, Lord Lan. My hands are quite clean, and this beggar's chicken has been meticulously prepared. It's fit for a royal feast, and I personally wrung its neck."
Xuan Yue fixed her gaze on Lan Yixuan, waving her right hand with a mock fierce expression, mimicking the act of wringing a neck. The sound of her thumb and forefinger snapping made Lan Yixuan feel as though a chicken had indeed met its demise before him.
"After removing the chicken's innards, I coated its bloodied feathers with yellow clay and straw, then roasted it over the fire until the clay hardened. Once the mud shell was removed, the chicken revealed its pure, reddish-brown meat. Isn't it glistening and inviting? The meat is tender and flavorful, rich in nutrients. Lord Lan, you ought to indulge and replenish your strength."
Lan Yixuan hesitated not out of disdain but rather because the memory of their first meeting came rushing back to him. He didn't want a mere chicken leg to interrupt their connection.
At their initial encounter on Falling Petal Mountain, she was dressed in white, much like today. However, then she appeared far more disheveled, her white skirt speckled with crimson plum blossoms, her hair in disarray obscuring her face, and her clothing marked with visible scratches from the trees. The firelight illuminated her pale skin, revealing a myriad of shallow and deep scars, accompanied by dried blood. The vermilion mark between her brows was far more beautiful than the painted faces of renowned beauties. She wore a delicate jade flute at her waist, moving with an unrestrained grace rare among men. Her eyes shone brightly, reminiscent of a polished bronze mirror, seemingly capable of reflecting the innermost thoughts of those who gazed into them.
As she looked at Lei An, who had just roasted a wild chicken, her expression was wistful, savoring the flavors of his dish while passionately recounting her version of beggar's chicken. Her descriptions were so vivid and tempting that they inspired a desire to taste, yet now, upon her recounting, his appetite waned considerably.
"Lord Lan, I must say I'm puzzled. Why do you still have a cleanliness obsession? You're knee-deep in mud in that swamp."
Xuan Yue frowned momentarily before her expression softened. She wiggled her finger in front of Lan Yixuan. "That yellow mud is unlike ordinary dirt. Everything here can devour you. In that swamp, there may lurk fierce beasts like tigers and lions, along with many small creatures—even living beings like you. Once trapped, the bodies gradually decay, their blurred flesh merging with the flesh-eating soil. And, during the subsequent days, to evade the pursuit of the flesh-eating ants, you went three days and nights without bathing, reeking of sweat. I bore it then, but now you dare to scorn the food I've prepared with my own hands?"
Lan Yixuan furrowed his brow, the last remnants of his appetite vanishing. She looked down on him; after three days and nights of sleeplessness and sweating, she still had no pity. Though he harbored these thoughts, he nonetheless shoved the chicken leg into his mouth. Xuan Yue, watching the large drumstick in Lan Yixuan's mouth, slapped the table without decorum and laughed, her eyes gleaming with expectation as she inquired, "So, how does it taste? Not too shabby, right?"
Indeed, just as she had claimed, the chicken was tender and flavorful, devoid of the usual cloying taste, infused with a subtle sweetness reminiscent of fresh grass. The crunchiness delighted him, and as he caught Xuan Yue's eager gaze, his slightly furrowed brow gradually relaxed, dismissing her earlier remarks.
He had always known her culinary skills were commendable, and experiencing it today only reinforced that belief.
Seeing the expression on Lan Yixuan's face, Xuan Yue guessed his thoughts and chuckled lightly, "It's not inferior to Lei Yun's, is it?" With over a decade of experience, she possessed her own insights into food.
Her face radiated a proud yet slightly smug smile as she tore off a succulent chicken wing and devoured it with relish. Unlike Lan Yixuan's silence, the delicious chicken wing could not stifle his voice. "Lan Gongzi, during our first encounter, I intentionally mentioned the beggar's chicken. You are excessively fastidious about everything around you. I've known people who are neat; they merely spread a mat on the grass. I've never encountered anyone who actually dresses trees; that's simply terrifying."
Xuan Yue raised her head, her eyes wide in mock horror, then chuckled softly. "I knew that if I had said that, you would lose your appetite for the roasted chicken. But you're truly a good person; you even let me feast on the wild rabbit. The exquisite plum blossom wine!"
Remembering the taste of the plum blossom wine made Xuan Yue's eyes glimmer with longing, and she couldn't help but swallow hard. "You even gave me the comfortable bed."
Xuan Yue sniffed, feigning gratitude, though in her heart, she scoffed at the idea of suffering such a loss to create a good impression. To her, it was an utterly unwise trade.
She retrieved the wine jug and cups from the tray, filling them both, and placed them before Lan Yixuan and herself. Then she raised her cup and drank deeply, sighing in satisfaction before quickly frowning. "The taste is quite mediocre," she remarked, though it was better than nothing.
"Since ancient times, heroes have emerged in youth, and they all regard you as a youthful hero. The renowned Jun Pinyu's charitable endeavors pale in comparison to you, much like this wine, utterly unremarkable and not worthy of comparison. Little do they know, you, the heroic youth, are merely a hypocrite, cunning and calculating, ready to betray them at any moment."
Lan Yixuan finished the chicken leg in his hand, finding himself in agreement with Xuan Yue's assessment. "They willingly accept it."
Xuan Yue laughed softly several times and nodded. "Indeed, they will not blame you in the least, and they will still be overflowing with gratitude. In their hearts, you remain the benevolent young hero, worthy of reverence but unapproachable."
Pouring herself another glass of wine, she inhaled its fragrance and raised her cup towards Lan Yixuan. "Regardless of their opinions, I, Feng Xuan Yue, consider it a great fortune to have met you, Lan Gongzi."
No matter Lan Yixuan's motives or his actions towards others, he had never caused her significant harm. Although he had used her, it was negligible and not worth noting. He might be selfish, but he had genuinely been sincere towards her. At this moment, she valued that sincerity. Compared to Jun Pinyu and his ilk, Lan Yixuan had truly carved a place in her heart—not through sweet words, but through his decisive actions.
"To our fate, I shall drink to the last drop."
Xuan Yue tilted her head back and downed her drink in one go. Yet, the depths of her eyes brimmed with increasing sadness and reluctance, slowly gathering like a storm. She could only use this brief moment of drinking to soothe her emotions, piece by piece.
Lan Yixuan gazed at the wine before him, his light gaze drifting toward Xuan Yue, his lips slightly pursed, hinting at bitterness.
Setting her cup down, Xuan Yue noticed Lan Yixuan's untouched drink and softly asked, "Why aren't you drinking? Don't you think encountering me is a stroke of good luck?"
Lan Yixuan merely smiled, the corners of his lips curling upwards as he pointed at the beggar's chicken. "I want to know what the chicken wing tastes like."
Xuan Yue chuckled, offering no protest, and promptly handed him a chicken wing. Lan Yixuan accepted it, just as his lips moved to utter, "Meeting you, I don't feel lucky at all."
In this world, there's always that one person who might disappoint you, cause you pain. When you're hurting, you might wonder why you crossed paths with such a person. Yet, if given the chance to start over, you would still wish not to miss them.
"That's fine."
Xuan Yue gazed at Lan Yixuan, a soft smile gracing her lips. Her voice, a gentle whisper, was for her ears alone. She nodded, harmonizing with Lan Yixuan, "Lan Gongzi, I also think you're rather unfortunate. I spend my days indulging in food and sleep, and when I'm occasionally awake, I merely contradict you. My speech is filled with half-smiles, and I often sabotage your plans, tarnishing your flawless image before others. Any woman in this world would be better than me. Besides, you're a prince of the Lan Kingdom; perhaps one day you will rule over the entire Zhou Dynasty, a bright future awaits. How can you waste your life here with me? Even if you wish to, I certainly do not."
Holding the chicken wing, Lan Yixuan quietly observed Xuan Yue, saying nothing. In truth, he would be willing. What did the world matter, what did the empire hold? To be revered like the stars, high above where the coldness prevails—such things were not worth his longing. But as she said, calculation was her reluctance, just as it was his.
"I cannot rest easy about my brother; he's alone, and I worry for him."
Especially in these chaotic times.
"I am deeply grateful to you, Master Lan, truly immensely thankful for your unwavering support during this critical moment. If it weren't for you, I might not have endured to this point, alone in this place. However, Master Lan, you still cannot surpass the esteemed position my brother holds in my heart. Regardless of what the future may hold, I hope my brother and the subjects of Fengguo, whom he wishes to protect, can live well. There must always be someone capable of bearing such responsibilities."
Xian Yue gazed intently at Lan Yixuan, her large, glistening eyes brimming with unshed tears, while he seemed to be suppressing some profound emotion.
With a chicken wing in his left hand, Lan Yixuan suddenly grasped Xian Yue's right arm, which was propped on the table. "I will ensure your safe departure from this place," he assured her.
Xian Yue looked up at Lan Yixuan, sniffing and nodding with a smile. Lan Yixuan released her hand, waving his right hand in front of her, gently calling her name, "Xian Yue."
His soft voice resembled a lover's whisper: "This hand…" He continued to shake it gently. "It was with this hand that I ended my mother's life. Her mouth was agape, devoid of a tongue, and the crimson liquid flowed between my thumb and forefinger, pooling in my palm."
Xian Yue widened her eyes as Lan Yixuan's gentle gaze darkened with a profound sorrow. He seemed to loathe the sight of flowing crimson, perhaps due to that incident.
"I fear nothing more than seeing my loved ones bleed before me and then leave this world entirely. Thus, Xian Yue, one day, Shaohua will meet his end by my hand."
Xian Yue stared at Lan Yixuan, her heart jolting violently. Just as a thought began to surface in her mind, Lan Yixuan withdrew his hand, rubbed his eyes, and exhaled softly, interrupting her train of thought.
"What's wrong?"
Seeing Lan Yixuan's tear-filled eyes, Xian Yue stood up, slightly bending forward to ask softly.
Lan Yixuan retracted his hand, eyes closed. "It seems the oil has seeped in; my eyes are stinging."
He pointed to his right eye.
Xian Yue squatted down, gently prying open Lan Yixuan's right eye. Leaning in closer, she blew softly on his eye.
"Is it better now?" Xian Yue asked, suddenly laughing. "Master Lan, my saliva might have gotten in your eye."
Lan Yixuan smiled faintly, a playful smirk on his lips. His left eye opened a small slit as he exchanged the wine cups between himself and Xian Yue, who was so focused on him that she didn't notice anything unusual.
"Much better," he sighed in relief.
Just as Xian Yue resumed her seat, the door to the room swung open unexpectedly. Four large, shadowy figures loomed at the entrance, and a woman appeared behind them. She approached Xian Yue, chattering away, prompting Xian Yue to rise and glance up at the sky. The once blue expanse had gradually transformed into a deep crimson, reminiscent of a gently simmering volcano, threatening to erupt at any moment.
Turning back, Xian Yue exchanged a few words with the incoming woman. The woman pointed towards the sky before turning and waiting at the door.
"Master Lan," Xian Yue said, pointing at the five individuals at the door. "They claim we have consumed all the food and wine here."
Lan Yixuan rose and lifted his wine cup towards Xian Yue. "I'll drink with you."
Xian Yue lowered herself, passing over the seated wine cup, secretly exhaling in relief. When she looked up, a radiant smile adorned her face, pure and bright, the vermilion between her brows strikingly alluring. She smiled as she clinked her cup against Lan Yixuan's, tipping her head back to down another large gulp. Watching her drink, Lan Yixuan lowered his head, gently inhaling the aroma before mimicking her, drinking heartily from his own cup.
Suddenly, the two men at the door slammed it shut. Xian Yue tossed her wine cup aside, stepped forward to embrace Lan Yixuan, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, her voice quivering with suppressed emotion, "Master Lan, you truly are the best person I have ever encountered in my life."
Lan Yixuan's hand, poised in mid-air, fell gently onto Xian Yue's back and shoulders as he murmured softly in acknowledgment. Xian Yue leaned against him, unable to stifle a yawn as drowsiness washed over her. Initially, she hadn't paid it much mind, but the fatigue grew increasingly overwhelming. She gently pushed away from Lan Yixuan, her frailer form swaying as she pointed at him.
Noticing his hand suspended in the air, Lan Yixuan finally spoke, "I switched our wines."
Xian Yue struggled to keep her eyes open, her head hazy. Her eyelids fought a fierce battle as she longed for restful slumber, her mind blank and filled with questions. Why was it wine? How did Lan Yixuan know? Shouldn't she have tampered with the beggar's chicken? But that was the last dish she had prepared for him.
"No, she can't faint."
Xian Yue shook her head vigorously, moving closer to Lan Yixuan. "You can't, Master."
There were many things she wanted to express to him. If one of them were to die, it could only be together; Lan Yixuan's presence would serve no purpose if she were gone.
"Get a good night's sleep."
Lan Yixuan lowered his gaze to Xianyue, who clung desperately to his garment. He raised his hand and struck her gently on the back of her head. Xianyue's words remained unfinished as she cast one last glance at him, the suppressed sorrow and despair pouring forth like the luminous moonlight on the fifteenth night, gradually closing her eyes.
He cradled the unconscious Xianyue in his arms and laid her upon the bed, tenderly smoothing her hair with an unprecedented gentleness.
Xianyue believed she was doing remarkably well. In truth, facing the impending departure from this world, her ability to remain composed before her beloved was an achievement in itself. Yet no matter how hard she tried, her inner state was irreversibly altered; the desire to present her most beautiful self often felt forced.
She donned her customary white garments, allowing her hair to cascade loosely over her shoulders. Though she never used rouge or perfume, a subtle yet rich fragrance emanated from her. She spoke of their first meeting, filled with heartfelt reflections, even urging Lan Yixuan to drink. She confessed her deepest concerns, expressing her gratitude toward him. If those individuals merely wished to confine them to this place, she would have cherished a lifetime to care for him. She would not have gone to the trouble of preparing the beggar's chicken herself; had there been time for discussion, she wouldn't have engaged in such actions today. The timing of their intrusion coincided closely with last night's sacrifice.
Lan Yixuan was no ordinary man; one skilled in schemes possesses a meticulous mind, capable of noticing every detail that eludes others. Although he couldn't comprehend the conversation between Xianyue and those individuals, his intuition was sharp.
If they merely sought to prevent their departure, their gazes would not have held such predatory intensity, as though they were trapped prey in a hunter's snare. One finger was withdrawn, leaving the other behind, his understanding at that moment being that only one of them could remain. If their previous demeanor toward Xianyue had seemed reasonable, their subsequent behavior bordered on excessive deference. In this place, he became more cautious than ever, his mind racing. Everything Xianyue did struck him as unusual, especially when she pointed at those individuals at the door and informed him it was they who urged them to drink. His suspicions deepened, especially after she had told him that the people here were united, implying there was a purpose behind their actions. She knew she would leave at noon and worried he might act impulsively.
Gently, Lan Yixuan stroked her forehead, gazing at Xianyue's face. Even in unconsciousness, her brow was furrowed with anxiety. He reached out and tenderly caressed her forehead, retrieving the snowflake blade he had concealed at his waist, placing it beside her. "What a woman of contradictions," he murmured, chuckling softly as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her brow.
He too harbored fears, having experienced the departure of loved ones and wishing to avoid a repeat of such tragedy. She had a brother to care for, while he was unanchored by such ties in this realm.
Rising, he cast a final, lingering glance at Xianyue before departing without hesitation.
He had once believed that all things resided within the heart and that with determination, nothing was insurmountable—that human will could conquer the heavens. Yet now, confronted by so many extraordinary phenomena, he began to grasp that many aspects of existence lay beyond his control.
Perhaps he and Xianyue would be pursued by the man-eating ants for three days and nights, yet they were not afraid of these savages. After all, they were human; at worst, they could fight for survival. If she chose to sacrifice her life to ensure his continued existence, it would indicate their inability to escape this place.
Xianyue lay in a deep slumber on the bed, hearing the sound of the door closing, which sent tremors through her heart. Though she dreamed, her awareness remained startlingly clear. Lan Yixuan had already departed, likely to become another victim like that cursed tree, consumed as sustenance.
She felt as if she had fallen into a dream, an abyss that seemed insurmountable.
The shaman-clad leader stood at the center of the platform, gently caressing the head of the man on the brink of death, murmuring incantations. The one clad in peculiar purple garb devoutly accepted the broth handed to her by the leader. Xianyue stood just behind him, leaning forward eagerly, yet despite her efforts, she could not glimpse the youth's face.
Suddenly, the purple-clad youth turned around, startling Xianyue. The tremor in her heart resonated even in her dreams; his gentle yet hazy gaze, even when his lips were pressed into a slight smile, conveyed a warmth that felt both inviting and taboo. It was Lan Yixuan, yet now his eyes shone with a bright amber hue, reflecting a sense of bewilderment.
The shaman approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "The divine has granted you the ability to communicate with us in our tongue, revealing your circumstances. However, your disruption of our sacrificial rites has angered the divine. Therefore, one of you must consume the milk of our deity and embrace her, or you will all become offerings to our god. If one of you drinks the divine's milk, you may still have time to escape before he dies."
Xianyue shrugged off the incessant chattering of the shaman and hurried after Lan Yixuan.
"Lan Yixuan!"
"Lan Yixuan!"
She called out desperately, her voice straining as she trailed behind him, yet he showed no sign of hearing her. The figure before her walked with a soulless gait, heading deeper into the forest.
Xianyue felt a surge of urgency; she clenched her fists, then opened her arms to block his path. Strangely, Lan Yixuan passed through her, continuing onward until he stopped before a tree resembling a pineapple. Its eight massive leaves formed an arch, covered in spikes resembling tiger claws. Atop the tree, six white branches twisted and danced through the air, striking at the surrounding atmosphere. It was the carnivorous tree she had seen the day before, beneath which lay the remnants of bones left from the previous night. "Lan Yixuan!"
The shaman approached again. "Your friend is about to leave this world. He just bid you farewell through the divine's wisdom. I will not harm you until he dies. Leave quickly; he is not the delicacy our deity desires. Once he is gone, we will hunt you down and present you to our god. I am certain she will be pleased."
Xianyue heard little of the shaman's words, consumed by tears as she called out Lan Yixuan's name. Yet he could not hear her. His hands gripped the cursed tree, the branches resembling tentacles thrashing wildly in the air, producing a sound akin to a snake's hiss. Lan Yixuan's complexion paled, darkening to a deep violet. The gigantic spiked leaves of the tree unfurled like a demon's maw, engulfing him completely.
Xianyue felt an intense pain, rivaling that of the royal tomb; her heart felt as though it had been cleaved open, blood spilling forth. The bright crimson liquid flowed from her body, while in bed, Xianyue's face gradually grew pale. She gasped for breath, her brow furrowed, for even the act of breathing was agonizing.
Xuan Yue collapsed onto the bed, her blood seeming to flow in reverse, and her once pale face appeared scorched, flushed to the point of almost oozing crimson. The vermilion at the center of her brows resembled blood and bloomed like a flower, gradually trickling down.
Xuan Yue felt as though she were bound by iron chains, utterly immobilized. She struggled desperately, expending every ounce of her strength, her brows knotted in concentration. Her hands, resting by the bed's edge, slowly relaxed as if testing their limits, then tightened again in a fierce grip, striving to break free from all constraints. Her body moved with a tortoise-like sluggishness, while her heart felt like it was infested with a thousand ants, a chaotic pain coursing through her entire being.
"Lan Yixuan, you mustn't go. It's futile. Even if you sacrifice yourself, it won't save me."
"Open your eyes, open your eyes," she urged, feeling a chilling sensation on her face. She couldn't discern its source. Long nails had pierced her skin, drawing forth small droplets of blood. Suddenly, she brushed against something cold and hard yet oddly supple, like a splash of cold water on a sweltering summer day. Elated, she pressed the joint between her thumb and forefinger upward, a painful sensation that oddly brought her comfort. The iron chains binding her began to dissolve into water upon encountering her blood, the once unyielding steel melting away. Clenching her fists, Xuan Yue let out a cry and abruptly sat up.
Should she be grateful that, since childhood, Liu Xinyou had treated her as a subject for potions? Even under the effects of such a potent drug, she could awaken early through sheer willpower. But had she slept too long? Was there still time?
Reaching up, she touched her face and confirmed that the icy sensation was indeed her own tears.
Fear gripped her heart, pounding rapidly in her chest as if it were about to leap out. Xuan Yue glanced at the sword resting on the bed. Without a moment's hesitation, she seized it and swung open the door. The twilight sky had darkened to a deep black, startling her; the sword nearly slipped from her grasp. Taking a deep breath, she raced toward the sacrificial grounds from yesterday.
She had to make it in time.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone