The General's Unfinished Promiseby VidaVivido

PART ONE MYSTERIOUS REBIRTH CHAPTER ONE Her eyelids parted heavily, as if weighed down by invisible stones. Shadows clung to the damp walls of the cave, the oppressive darkness pierced only by the sputtering amber glow of a solitary torch. She pushed herself up, her muscles trembling with the effort, and surveyed her surroundings. It was stark—nothing more than a rough-hewn stone bed beneath her and a low wooden table nearby. Her left arm and leg were bound in coarse linen bandages, secured at the ends. While her right hand moved freely, a sharp ache flared whenever she shifted her right leg. Yet, the physical pain paled in comparison to the void in her mind. Her head felt empty and hollow; grasping for a name, a memory, or a reason for her presence in this cave yielded nothing but blankness. Forcing herself to stand, she approached the table. A bundle of bamboo slips lay beside a clay bowl filled with a dark, stagnant liquid, alongside an assortment of dried provisions and preserved fruits. She unrolled the bamboo slips, her eyes tracing the elegant ink strokes. The letter read, "Young girl, drink your medicine first. It will give you enough energy to return to your town. When you get out of the cave, go straight west, and when you see the road, go north. It's not far..." Setting the slips aside, she reached for the bowl. The clay was still faintly warm against her fingertips. Pinching her nose, she downed the dark liquid in a single gulp. Her features twisted into a deep grimace as the sharp, astringent bitterness burned down her throat, forcing a harsh cough from her lips. She stared toward the cave entrance. Perhaps this person left right before I woke, purposefully leaving directions to my hometown. A chill crept down her spine. Did he already know my memories were gone? She picked up the bamboo slips again and continued reading, "I left a walking stick at the cave entrance. Your wounds have almost healed, and you will be fine. As for what happened to you and who you are, I do not know. An old friend brought this body here. She already died. He asked me to call your soul back to be reborn in this body. He gave up his life for that, and I buried him here as he had wished. When you go down, you will see his grave. He left you a letter and a box. I placed them next to his grave. Young girl, the direction of the town that I told you was the hometown of this body. She had a tragic fate, maybe because of this. My method of returning the soul this time worked. Not all people get a second chance in life like you do. Start a new life and be happy. I do not know if one day you will remember your memories; it all depends on your fate." Her palm pressed hard against her temple. The characters echoed like thunder in her mind—"This body," "call your soul back," "second chance." What did that mean? Did it mean she had already died once, and the man who brought her back to life was dead because of her? But why? Who was she to him? She forced her trembling fingers to uncurl from her scalp. One breath, then another. She reached for the dried food and swallowed water in slow, rhythmic gulps until the shaking in her hands subsided. Then, stowing the bamboo slips into her sleeve, she walked out of the cave with small, measured steps. Halfway to the entrance, she paused, turned back to the table, and gathered the few dried apricots into her sleeve. Stepping outside the cave, her breath caught. The world was a vibrant tapestry of lush, emerald foliage and wild blossoms swaying in the gentle breeze. It appeared to be the dawn of spring. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, letting the crisp, floral-scented air fill her burning lungs. "Let's see what awaits me," she murmured. She started down the incline, leaning heavily on the wooden walking stick left at the entrance. Fortunately, the cave was hidden away from prominent paths. When she reached the bottom, she spotted a mound of earth. The soil remained dark and damp. A gravestone bore the carved inscription, "An old friend." She thought this person did not want to leave his name in this world, leaving only the epitaph on the gravestone. But what about her? What was his relationship to her? She picked up the wooden box resting at the base of the stone, found a bamboo slip placed beside it, and began to read. "I feel no remorse for what happened. We were enemies; we had different paths and different ambitions. But two years after your death, I learned you were the only sister of that person. I owe him my life, your brother. If I had known that, I would never have tried to hurt you for his sake, but I did not know. Now, all I can do is ask my friend to do me a favor: bring back your soul. He said 'this is an old and dangerous method and requires a lot of energy.' If I were uninjured, perhaps I could have survived, but your soul could not hold on. It would vanish. I had one chance to try. Whether you returned to life and remembered your past or not is not my concern. I want to tell your brother I truly tried to correct my mistake and repay his life by giving up mine for you. I found this young girl's body at the bottom of the cliff. She had already died from blood loss, and I did not know who she was. She had the pendant I placed inside the box." As she finished the letter, her brows drew together in a tight knot. Someone had surrendered his life to bring her back—not for her, but to repay a debt to her brother, who had died long ago. Worse still, this man might have been the very culprit behind her death in her previous life. He was simultaneously her killer and her savior. She forced her erratic thoughts to calm. Since her memory was a blank slate, she resolved not to let the paradox consume her just yet. She knelt, her gaze fixed on the rough stone, and whispered, "Thank you, Benefactor, for saving me." Opening the wooden box, she examined its contents. Inside lay a beautiful jade pendant, though its curved edge was rough, indicating it was only half of a complete set. Beside it sat a weathered red sachet embroidered with the character 兄 . She picked it up, running her thumb over the stitching, and brought it to her nose. A faint, lingering scent of azaleas clung to the fabric. "Is this from my brother?" she whispered to herself. She did not head straight for the town. Instead, she retreated to the safety of the cave. She needed time to fully recover her strength and carefully plan her next steps. This time, she explored her surroundings thoroughly, discovering a small, crystal-clear underground river flowing deep within the cavern. Kneeling by the water's edge, she studied her reflection. Almond eyes, slightly upturned at the corners, stared back at her. She had a small, straight nose, full pink lips, and flawlessly smooth, pale skin. She touched her cheek, the water mirroring the gesture. "This face might bring a lot of trouble," she whispered. She recalled the words from her savior's letter: he had stumbled upon this body at the bottom of a cliff. She wondered who could be cruel enough to push someone so beautiful. Or had she jumped? Was it murder, or a desperate escape? With ample free time in the solitary cave, she passed the hours by finishing the provisions, starting with the tart apricots and ending with the sweet red bayberries. Wrapped in a rough blanket on the stone bed, she decided she needed a starting point. The most logical step was to find the original body's home and family. She could not be entirely certain the fantastical story of her soul's rebirth was true, but since she inhabited this flesh, she owed it to the girl to uncover the truth of her demise. Lost in her plotting, she did not realize when sleep finally claimed her. In her dream, the wind howled as she plummeted from the jagged edge of a cliff. She woke with a violent jolt, her heart pounding furiously against her ribs. The cave was already bright with morning light. Staring at the golden rays streaming through the entrance, her racing pulse slowly settled. What a terrifying dream... Was that my memory, or the memory of the girl who died? She placed a hand over her chest, steadying her breaths. When she stood, she was relieved to find the agonizing ache in her left leg had faded to a dull throb. The medicine had worked its magic. After washing her face in the icy river water, she twisted her hair into a simple bun. She paused to examine her hairpin, noting the chipped edges likely caused by the fall, though the craftsmanship suggested it was an item of significant value. The original owner's family must be wealthy, she concluded. She cast one last glance at the empty clay bowls. All that remained were a few pieces of heavily spiced dried radish, which she had nearly choked on the night before. She stepped out of the cave, finally ready to face whatever fate had orchestrated for her. She followed the letter's crude directions. It was not a vast distance, but her weakened body betrayed her; soon, she was breathless, a sheen of sweat coating her forehead. Wiping her brow, she assumed this delicate body was unaccustomed to strenuous travel, and her muscles still ached deeply from the trauma of the fall. She could not help but shake her head in amusement. If enemies were chasing me right now, I would be dead before my story even began. A soft laugh escaped her lips as she pictured her pathetic attempt at a grand escape. The sudden, thunderous drumming of galloping hooves shattered her amusement. Before she could react, a troop of armored riders tore past her at breakneck speed. The violent rush of wind and flying dirt threw her off balance. She tumbled backward, hitting the hard earth with a sharp cry of pain. A harsh voice rose above the dust. "Halt!" They all halted. The lead rider looked down at her, his voice full of concern. "Young Miss, are you harmed? Did we hurt you?" What kind of appearance did she present? Her face, which could supposedly bring trouble, was now coated in dust, her hair untidy, and her eyes red from the sting of the fall. She was ready to lash out, but when she saw the young man's worried expression, she swallowed her anger. The gentleman appeared to be in his early twenties, perhaps even younger. He had warm, luminous eyes, a well-defined nose, slender lips, and a subtle dimple on his right cheek. His long hair was tied in a high bun. With sincere concern, he looked at her. She stood up, brushed the dust off her robes. "It is nothing. I am fine." The young man hesitated, then turned back to the others and ordered, "Search carefully. Ensure nothing gets missed." All the men rode off, except for one who remained. His horse was positioned behind the young man's, so she couldn't see his appearance clearly. All she could distinguish was that he was dressed entirely in black. The young man turned to her again. "Young Miss, I am very sorry. We were in a hurry and caused you harm." She wiped her face with her sleeve, smiled, and waved her hand dismissively. "No harm done. I was not paying attention and did not see you coming." The young man's gaze swept the empty dirt road behind her, then dropped to her empty hands, noting her lack of a travel bundle. A crease formed between his brows. "Young Miss, are you lost? Or are you being pursued? Do you need help?" She thought of her earlier imagined flight from imaginary enemies, but replied warmly. "No. I am heading to that town over there—almost there." She pointed toward the gate of Qingyao Town. "Thank you for your concern, Young Master. You should go finish your work." A cold voice cut through the air from behind the young man. "Hanyue, give her some coins. Let us go." She felt her ears tingle when she heard his voice; it was like touching zither strings after a long time, still pleasant to the ears. Yet after his words, her jaw tightened. Forcing her shoulders into a meek slouch, she allowed a sharp, mocking edge to slip into her quiet voice. "No need, Young Master. If I fall again, it will be quite a training to collect coins from the ground." Hanyue's face froze. He could not imagine that a girl who was warm and easygoing a moment ago could answer his master with such a sharp, double-edged remark. He did not dare to look at his master's face. The man behind him moved his horse forward. Now, she could see him clearly. He possessed a cold, noble aura and appeared to be in his late twenties. His horse was pure white, adorned with golden tack—a stark contrast to its master, who wore simple, elegant black robes, entirely free of patterns or accessories. That profound simplicity only made his fair skin stand out more. The only thing shining on him was his sword. A red ribbon gently shifted in the wind, tying a small section of his long black hair, while the rest cascaded loosely. His lips were thin, his nose straight. He sat upright in his saddle, broad-shouldered and well-built. But what made her heart still for a breath were his eyes. A pair of cold black phoenix eyes. Dark as a foggy forest, she could not see their end. He looked at her calmly, like a man in a marketplace who found everything unworthy. She looked back, equally calm. Neither spoke. But inside, she praised him. This appearance, combined with his cold attitude, was definitely the kind that brings trouble for its owner. Seeing boldness in her eyes, the man's eyes narrowed. A dusty young girl—yet she dares mock me with such composure.... If that person were here, she would be laughing out loud at this sentence. Thinking about that person made his eyes grow foggier. He looked down and covered his emotions with his long black eyelashes. A self-satisfied smirk danced on her lips, but as a deep, sudden sorrow clouded his dark eyes, her smile faltered. Trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere, Hanyue said, "Well then, young miss, be careful on the road. We are leaving." Her calm expression softened into a warm smile once more. "Very well. You too." She glanced at the man, but his gaze was fixed on the distant horizon. Hanyue said respectfully, "Master, let us go." They galloped off. She stood still in the settling dust, her fingers absently rising to press against a sudden, hollow ache in her chest. She had done nothing wrong; he was the one who had treated her like a beggar in the first place. She repeated that justification to herself as she headed toward the town gates. CHAPTER TWO Inside the gates of Qingyao Town, everything was a stark contrast to the desolate cave; it felt like stepping into another realm. People were working, coming and going, shouting, laughing, and busy with their daily lives. She could describe it in a single phrase: full of life. She narrowed her eyes, looking for a place to gather information to find the original body's family. A teahouse seemed like the best option. As she went in, a merchant at the nearest table paused mid-drink, his gaze lingering on her dusty hem, while a finely dressed woman subtly pulled her silk veil closer. She wore no servant's garb, yet lacked the trailing entourage of a noble lady. That contradictory air drew every eye in the room. Soon, the owner approached her in a friendly tone, "Welcome, welcome. Come in, young girl. What can I do for you?" She smiled softly, answering in a hesitant, sorrowful tone, "Actually... I... I..." She purposely let her voice trail off as her almond eyes pooled with unshed tears. The owner saw this, and his tone became more gentle. "Come, do not worry. Sit here... tell me everything. I'll help you." He gestured to a chair. She sat down slowly. Then he turned and shouted to a boy nearby, "Hey, boy! Go quickly and bring some tea for this young girl!" She blurted, "No need... no need, Shopkeeper." The owner smiled. "Do not worry about it..." Noticing the boy still standing there and staring at her foolishly, he snapped: "What are you standing there for? Go quickly!" Turning back to her, he smiled again."Heh... this brat. Do not worry, you are safe here. Tell me everything." She gently wiped the unshed tears from the corners of her eyes. "I do not know where I should go. I got separated from my family on the road and could not find them, but I know they are passing through this town, so I came here, hoping they will find me. Shopkeeper, do you think they will?" The owner studied her carefully from head to toe, with a strange glint in his eyes. Then, he replied in the same gentle tone: "Of course... of course. Do not worry. You can stay here. They will definitely come to find you." Her eyes sparkled with joy. "Thank you, Shopkeeper..." Then, her expression fell slightly. Her voice softened. "But... I do not have any coins with me." The owner waved his hand carelessly. "It is okay... It is okay." Just then, someone else entered the teahouse. The owner glanced at the new guest eagerly. "You sit here... I would be right back," he said and hurried off. She watched his back for a moment. He was middle-aged, with an enormous belly that strained against his robes. The boy returned with a cup of tea. She offered a gentle smile. The boy blushed and departed with quick steps. She took a sip, then subtly wrinkled her nose, setting the crude porcelain cup down on the wooden table. The muddy, low-grade leaves left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue. She had not come here to drink tea anyway. She tuned her ears to her surroundings. Her ears picked up on the loud voices at a nearby table. Three men were drinking and speaking animatedly. One of them asked, "Have you heard? They say that traitor Shen Yueran was spotted nearby. His Majesty sent troops after him." Another replied, "So that is why we have seen so many unfamiliar faces in town... Did they catch him?" The third man grunted, "No one knows. But soldiers are everywhere, and a lot of sword-wielders have come to our town and the surrounding areas. Maybe they have already captured that wicked man..." The first one added darkly, "He was truly evil...What he did seven years ago still makes my scalp go numb." The third added quickly, "Yes, yes, who can forget those days? He was close to dragging our country into a bloody war..." The second one said, "Not only that, there were rumors about the late emperor's death and the former crown prince, dep—" The first one warned, "Hush.... do not talk about royal family affairs. Are you a fool? " The second one said hurriedly, "Alright, alright..." Then, they lowered their heads and continued in hushed voices. There was not any other significant news. Everyone was just chatting about daily gossip. Was the disappearance of this body not big news for people to talk about? Or had it already become old news? Or is there one other possibility: perhaps they never even knew. After a while, she stood up to leave the teahouse. Just as she reached the door, the owner hurried over to her. "Young girl, where are you going?" She dropped her shoulders before turning to the shopkeeper; she forced a tremor into her voice. "I am going to search for them. They may have come to town. Maybe someone saw them, or they are staying at an inn." The owner's eyes flickered, but his voice remained steady. "Of course, of course. But it is not safe out there. If you go alone, who knows what kind of trouble you might run into... There are bad people around. You should not go alone." Her eyes widened in feigned innocence. "Then... what should I do? If... if I had someone with me, someone I could trust, like you..." She lowered her head and tightly clutched the fabric of her robes. "... I could quickly check the inns and come back." The owner thought for a moment, then said: "Alright, do not be sad. I will send my servant with you. But do not take too long—come back quickly. It is dangerous for a young woman to be out there alone." She lifted her head and said joyfully, "Would you really do that for me, Shopkeeper? I do not know how to repay your kindness... Thank you." Her eyes reddened with gratitude. Her lower lip trembled, and she drew in a sharp, shuddering breath. Yet, even as she thanked him, she purposely withheld a bow. The owner did not seem to notice the slight. His gaze was glued to her tear-shimmering eyes, and his lips curled into a satisfied smile. He called out, "Hey, boy! Come here!" A young boy came running over. He looked about eleven or twelve years old, his clothes dirty and worn. He stood in front of the owner, nervously clutching the sides of his shirt. She noticed his fingers—they were cracked, calloused, and far too rough for a boy his age. He spoke in a thin, reedy voice. "Yes, Master." The owner ordered in a strict voice, "Go with the young miss and show her the inn. Take care of her carefully and come back quickly. Do not make a fool of yourself." She and the boy stepped out of the teahouse. As soon as they were outside, her pitiful expression vanished. Her gaze turned distant, her steps slowing as her mind raced. The boy walked slightly ahead of her, careful with his steps. He never lifted his head, nor dared to look at her face. In a humble voice, he said, "Miss... the inn is this way." He pointed to the right, down the narrow street beside the teahouse. She nodded. "Alright, thank you... By the way, how old are you?" Hearing her soft voice made him blush. His fingers tangled together even more. "This humble one, Miss? I think... I am twelve." She lifted her gaze from his trembling fingers and smiled gently. "Twelve, hmm... You are already a young man." The boy's cheeks turned redder, but he said nothing. "Do not call me 'Miss'," she murmured. "I am not a miss. Just call me..." She paused, her smile fading as she realized she did not remember her own name, nor did she know what name belonged to this body. How pitiful I am, she mocked herself. Trying to brush aside these thoughts, she turned her gaze back to the boy. He was waiting for her to finish her sentence. When she did not, he risked raising his head just enough to glimpse her bright eyes. The moment their eyes met, he hurriedly looked away again. A genuine, bubbling laugh escaped her at the sight of his furiously blushing cheeks. "What is your name?" The boy's eyes widened. "T-this humble one? Miss... I do not have a name." She chuckled. "How could that be? Everyone—" but she froze mid-sentence. Could it be... he lost his memory too? The boy murmured, "My master always calls me 'foolish boy' or just 'hey, boy.' I do not have any relatives, so... no one ever gave me a name." Hearing this, her eyes dimmed. She spoke in a gentler tone. "How can you be foolish? Are you not the one leading me to the inn so easily? If I were alone, I would probably wander around for a while. I bet you already know so many things at your young age. If the people around you were not smart enough to give you a name, then so be it. You can give yourself a good one." The boy's voice barely rose above a whisper. "But I do not know any characters... I only know 'bái'." Her eyes lit up. "That is perfectly fine. Let us just use 'Bai'... and create two beautiful names." The boy blinked. "Two?" She smiled brightly. "Yes—one for you and one for me. I do not have a name either. Let me think..." She pressed a hand to her chin, examining him as though he were the finest porcelain. "Aha! Your name will be Bai An —it means calm and peaceful." She paused, then added with a gentle smile, "And I will be Bai Ran —like blank paper. A fresh start." The boy repeated the name under his breath, in a thin, trembling voice: "Baian... Baian..." In his happiness, he forgot to wonder why this young girl did not have a name, too. She looked at his small, cheerful face—so thin, yet glowing with delight. Her gaze softened, and her voice grew warmer. "Yes... Baian. That is your name. Do you like it? If not, I can think of other names, too." But Baian shook his head, as if afraid someone might take the name away from him. "No! Miss—I mean, I like it. I like it very much!" Bairan chortled, "Okay, I am glad you do. But what did I tell you? Do not call me 'Miss.' Just call me Bairan." Baian nodded, "Yes, Miss Bairan." She shook her head, "Did not I tell you not to call me 'Miss'?" In a warm voice she added, "You know what? You can call me Jie-jie . I am older than you, so it is only right for you to call me that. Of course, only if you want to." Baian shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Is that really okay?" Bairan chirped, "Of course it is okay! I am telling you—call me Jie-jie! Got it?" As they talked, they arrived at the inn. Baian said slowly, "Bairan-jie ... this is the town inn." Bairan smiled and nodded; then they went in. It was the hour of the midday meal, and the place was crowded with patrons. The clatter of bowls and the murmur of voices filled the space. Among the patrons, Bairan noticed a few swordsmen; their calloused hands rested on their hilts, and they were clad in worn, dark-colored robes. A young innkeeper spotted them, a smirk tugging at his lips. The moment his eyes landed on Bairan, his gaze lingered. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over her lack of traveling bags, quickly marking her as a solitary traveler, though he recognized the nervous boy trailing behind as Uncle Mu's teahouse servant. He asked with a gleeful glint in his eyes, "Young miss, how can I help you?" Bairan gave him a sweet, arrogant smile, playing the role of a pampered young beauty. "I want a room." The young innkeeper smiled, "Just for yourself?" Bairan gave a curt nod. Then, as if speaking to herself, she muttered in annoyance, "Tch... he said the most beautiful girl would be here in this town... but I have not seen a single special woman. The town is not even that nice." The young innkeeper chuckled, "Oh, Miss, may I ask why you did not like our town? Are you saying our town is not beautiful enough?" Bairan waved her hand lazily. “Your town is not that bad, but I do not know. Someone told me this place is full of stunning beauties, yet I have not seen anyone who could even compare to me.” The young innkeeper laughed. "Of course, young miss, you are indeed very beautiful. But... our town has some well-known beauties." Bairan widened her eyes in disbelief. "As beautiful as me? No, I do not believe it!" She pouted and rolled her eyes at him. The innkeeper laughed cheerfully and raised both hands. "Do not take offense, Miss. People say that. Not me. They say there are a few women in town known for their looks, but I have not seen them with my own eyes, so I cannot say if they are as beautiful as you..." Bairan hurried him to speak, eager to know her rivals' names, "Tell me their names quickly!" The innkeeper leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial rasp as he shielded his mouth with a calloused hand. "Actually, there are two daughters in the Lin family. The older one is Lin Ruolan; she is said to be a peerless beauty, gentle and elegant like an orchid. I once saw her from afar, but unfortunately, she was wearing a veil." He sighed. "What a pity. That glimpse only made me more curious. And her younger sister, Lin Ruomei, is second; they say she is soft and pure." Baian just stared at them, totally puzzled. That whole conversation earlier, and how Bairan's tone had suddenly changed when they walked in—he just did not understand any of it. Bairan kept arguing with the innkeeper, insisting that she did not believe such a small town could have such beauties, until the innkeeper, finally flustered, gave in and shared the location of the Lin family residence, along with many details about them. Once Bairan got what she wanted, she said to the innkeeper lazily, "Okay, okay, I will check it out myself. Now... can you bring me some food? Just something simple." The innkeeper nodded his head with a smile, "I will tell the chef to prepare the meal for you," but he did not move. Bairan raised an eyebrow. "Oh..." she added carelessly, "I did not give you any money." Then, as if suddenly annoyed by a memory, she pretended to scold the person who had angered her and muttered, "Because that idiot, he made me so angry, I did not even bring anything with me." She looked at the innkeeper and said, “Look at my hairpin. It is a special item. Do not think of me as a poor woman—I was just in a hurry. Take it as a rental. When my family arrives, they will pay you." The innkeeper glanced at the shiny hairpin and replied, "I will show you your room upstairs, then I will go tell the chef right away." As he led Bairan upstairs, he exchanged a meaningful glance with the man sitting quietly in the corner. Baian followed them silently. During all this, Bairan did not even glance at him, as if she did not know him at all. The innkeeper led the way. CHAPTER THREE The room was the last one at the end of the corridor, tucked slightly farther into the corner. When Bairan saw the room, she smiled. She touched her nose, wrinkled her brows, and said, "Emm... not bad." The innkeeper only nodded with a smile. Then he suddenly noticed Baian and said with annoyance, "Why are you still here?" Baian stammered in an awkward voice, "I... I am waiting for..." He looked at Bairan. Bairan glanced at him indifferently. "Oh... go back and tell your master I am very thankful for his kindness." Then she nodded to the innkeeper and stepped inside the room. She closed the door. The innkeeper left the corridor with quick steps, completely forgetting about Baian's presence. Baian took small steps and looked back at Bairan's room from time to time. Halfway down the corridor, Bairan suddenly opened the door and called out, “Baian!" Hearing her voice, Baian hurried back and stood in front of the door again. When she saw him, her voice turned warm. "Baian..." Baian did not look up and said in a low voice, "Yes, Bairan-jie?" Bairan's gaze softened, and she smiled gently at him: "When I find my family, I will take you with me." Baian looked up in surprise: "What... really?" Bairan continued softly, "Yes, I promise. Now go back. Do not worry about me. Take care of yourself. I will find you later." Baian clenched his hand nervously and said in a hushed voice, "But Master said we should return quickly." Bairan cast down her eyes for a moment, then looked at Baian again. "Do not worry. Tell him the innkeeper gave me a place to stay." Baian finally nodded and left. After he left, Bairan looked around the room. It was simple: just a bed and a table. She opened the window, letting the fresh air in. Looking outside, the place was not very high up. There was some kind of cart outside. After a while, there was a knock on the door. It was the innkeeper himself holding a tray of food. He placed it on the table and said flatteringly, "Young miss... this is your lunch. I am sorry, our inn does not have anything special for noble ladies like you." Bairan replied, "It is okay... it does not matter. Thanks." The innkeeper inquired, "Do you need anything else, young miss?" Bairan yawned and replied, "No... thanks." The innkeeper glanced at her one more time and said, "I will be downstairs. If you need anything, just let me know." Bairan nodded, saying, "Okay. I will." Bairan was alone again. She looked at the food but did not touch the soup or rice. Instead, she picked up the bread and started eating with big bites. She thought, This place is too quiet. She glanced at the wall. There was not a single sound from the other rooms. She did not trust the innkeeper—not with the way he looked at her, and definitely not with the tucked-away room he gave her just like that. She narrowed her eyes. If the innkeeper had thought all this through while talking to her, then her opponent was not going to be simple. If her guess was right, they would come to her again soon. She kept tapping her finger on the table while eating the bread as if it were part of the innkeeper's strategy. If the innkeeper saw her now, he would, probably call himself brainless for ever having thought she was some pampered noble lady. She leaned back in the chair, wiping the crumbs from her lips with the back of her hand. She mentally praised the bread; it was very good. Her eyes drifted toward the bed. Her brows drooped and her lips pouted as she murmured sadly, "I wish I had time to sleep..." She stood there for a moment, just staring at the mattress like it had personally wronged her. Then, with a deep sigh, she turned away and stretched her arms. She scooped some rice and soup into an empty bowl and carefully poured it under the bed, then placed the bowl back on the tray. Not long after, there was a knock on the door. A woman's voice followed, "Miss, may I come in?" Bairan quickly lay down on the bed, even pulling the curtains down. She said lazily, "Come in." The servant came in, a thin woman with long face. She glanced around the room, her eyes hesitating on the tray on the table, pausing for a moment. She bowed slightly in the direction of the closed curtains and said, "Miss, the master asked me to see if you would like me to prepare hot water for a bath." Bairan replied in a lazy tone, "Oh, your master is very thoughtful, always worrying about his customers' needs." The thin woman did not raise her head, nor did she respond to the comment about her master's thoughtfulness. After a brief pause, Bairan continued, "I am not interested in bathing right now. I want to sleep. Take those things away. Wake me near dinnertime. I might bathe before then." The servant only said, "Yes, Miss." She went to the table and looked carefully at the rice and soup. Her master had instructed her to report exactly how much the young lady had eaten. Bairan looked at her from behind the curtains and said coldly, "Why are you so slow? What kind of servant are you..." Then she muttered to herself, "Crowded, annoying town... bad food... and now slow servants. Can I even have a good rest here?" The servant grew frightened and hurriedly said, "So–sorry, Miss! I will be quick!" Bairan added lazily, "Leave the chopsticks behind." The servant exclaimed, "Why?" Bairan slid the curtains aside, furrowing her brow, her tone turning cold. "Should I answer you?" The servant, terrified, stammered, "I-I did not mean to offend, Miss... please forgive me... Master said you are a noble lady... please forgive me." She fell to her knees. Bairan paused. Was my angry face so terrifying? Seeing the servant's terrified face, Bairan sighed and said, "Okay, okay... Do not act like it is the end of the world. Stand up and do your work. Who said I am angry? Stand up... just do what I told you." The servant looked up cautiously, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and relief as she scrambled to her feet. With her head still bowed, she began to clean up the table hurriedly. Bairan watched her. As she settled back onto the mattress, she thought, Why is the innkeeper so impatient? The servant arrived at the door. This time, Bairan spoke in a calm voice. "Tell your master that my family will arrive in two days. If you all serve me well, there will be a good reward." "Yes, Miss!" The servant responded immediately, bowed, and exited the room. Bairan sat up quickly, just as the servant's footsteps faded away. She touched her chin. I should leave here soon. Now that I know the Lin family's residence, I can find it by myself. The innkeeper will not let me go that easily. With every half stick of incense, someone comes in. He's in a hurry... I should be too. She opened the door and poked her head out. No one was in the corridor. It was silent. She closed the door again, dragged the table over, and set it in front of the door. Then she went to the silk-covered window. Standing in front of it, she pulled out her hairpin. Her long hair fell like a black river. She cleaned one of the chopsticks and used it to gather her hair into a simple bun. Then, she placed the hairpin by the window in an eye-catching place. She climbed out through the window and onto the inn's roof. From there, she could see a cart piled high with sacks of hay parked near the edge of the alley. It looked safe enough to jump on. Bairan walked to the edge and whispered to herself, "Okay... jump." She bent her knees slightly, readying herself. But her heart pounded wildly. She could not breathe. She tried again, even taking a few steps back to make a more accurate jump, but each time, she stopped just before leaping. Frustrated with herself, she muttered, "Am I scared of heights?" Annoyed, she went back into the room, pushed everything aside, and was about to walk out through the door instead. But at that moment, hurried footsteps approached her room. Bairan's eyebrows furrowed as the sounds got closer. They did not sound like an adult's footsteps—too light, too quick. Then came a rushed knock and a nervous voice calling, "Bairan-jie... Bairan-jie!" Bairan frowned even deeper. "Baian...?" She hurriedly opened the door, pulled Baian inside, glanced down the corridor to make sure no one was following him, then shut the door quickly. Holding Baian's shoulders, she asked, "Why are you here?" Baian stumbled over his words, his voice shaking. "Ba... Bairan-jie... they... they are coming for you!" Seeing how frightened he was, Bairan gently called his name, "Baian, just tell me what happened. You do not need to be scared..." Baian calmed down a little and continued, "I heard them talking about you... my master and Master Tong... They said you do not have anyone here, and Master Tong could sell you in the capital. I... I do not want you to go with them. Master Tong is worse than my master—he always beats people... Bairan-jie, you... You should hide yourself!" Bairan listened carefully to every word, then asked, "Was the innkeeper with them?" Baian nodded. "Master Fu... Master Fu and Master Tong are close friends." Bairan asked, "When will they come to take me?" Baian clenched his hands nervously, his voice slightly rising with worry. "Soon... Master Tong said it should be very soon because he is leaving town tonight." Bairan asked again, her tone unchanged, "Did they see you?" Baian hesitated, "Master said, 'Who is there?'... but I do not think he saw me." Bairan let out a long sigh and gently placed her hand on Baian's head, brushing his messy hair aside. "I told you to take care of yourself, did I not? You should not worry about me... but now that you are here, do you know what we should do?" Baian looked up at her, confused, his wide, innocent eyes blinking. Bairan could not help but chuckle as she said, "We should run away together." Baian blinked again, stunned. "Run...?" "Yes," Bairan said. Her voice was light but steady. "If we stay, bad things will happen to both of us. And maybe your master will hurt you for helping me. If we run fast enough, we might still have a chance." Then she bent down slightly and looked him in the eyes. "Do you trust me, Baian?" Baian hesitated only for a moment, then nodded firmly. "I do. I want to be with you." Bairan smiled and gave his shoulder a little squeeze. "Good." Bairan wasted no time, quickly gathering the blanket over the mattress and pulling down the curtains. Baian, looking confused, asked, "Bairan-jie... what are you doing?" Bairan answered without stopping, "Trying to make the perfect escape plan." She pushed the table back to its place and held her hairstick in her palm before glancing back at him. "Baian, are you afraid of heights?" Baian shook his head. "I fixed the teahouse roof tiles by myself." Bairan smiled at him. "Well done." She glanced at the door, then at the window. "Did you see anyone when you came upstairs?" Baian thought for a second. "Only Auntie Hua... she was going downstairs with a tray." Bairan turned to the window while speaking to him. "Baian, we are going out through the window." Baian stepped forward and nodded. "Okay." Bairan touched his shoulder. "You go first." Baian climbed out the window onto the roof. Bairan placed her hairpin on the table, then followed him out and closed the window behind her. Outside the room, everything was just as before. The cart full of hay and sacks was still there in the corner. Bairan looked at Baian and pointed. "Do you see that cart?" Baian nodded. She asked seriously, "Can you jump on it?" He nodded again. She looked at him, half in disbelief. "Really?" "Of course, Bairan-jie," Baian said confidently. "It is not too high, and the cart is full of hay. We will be fine." Bairan swallowed nervously, peeking down. "Easy for you to say..." Baian jumped first. Just like he said, he landed safely and even looked up with a proud grin. Still standing on the roof, Bairan tried to convince herself, but her feet would not move. She looked away, searching for another way down. Then, her eyes fell on the ropes tied to the sacks on the cart. She called quickly. "Baian! Pull out those ropes and throw them up to me!" Without asking why, Baian nodded. From inside the inn, a knock echoed through the room. Bairan hissed urgently, "Baian, hurry...!" Baian moved quickly, tossing the ropes up to her. Without wasting a second, Bairan tied the ropes together tightly. Another knock sounded on the door. Louder this time. But she did not stop. She fastened the rope to the edge of the roof and gripped it firmly, her heart pounding in her chest. Without looking down, her hands clutching the rope, she swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling, as she lowered herself slowly. Just as her foot touched the ground, Bairan let out a breath of relief. Baian rushed to her. "Bairan-jie!" Bairan finally calmed down and took Baian's hand. "Let us go..." The moment they disappeared into a narrow alley, a loud bang echoed from the room above. The window was flung open with force. The innkeeper's furious face appeared, his voice exploding through the air. "Where did she go?! Where?!" He clenched the hairpin with a trembling hand. The teahouse owner burst into the room, breathless. His round, sweaty face flushed red with anger. He panted. "They escaped?" The innkeeper shouted angrily, "Is not this all because of your useless servant? You could not even keep an eye on a boy!" The teahouse owner snapped back, “What about you?! She fooled you just as well! Did not you say you put sleeping powder in her food? Then why is she running around so energetically?!” The innkeeper said irritably, "We do not have time to waste arguing. We need to find her now. Master Tong promised each of us twenty taels of silver. I am not losing that because of your stupid servant!" He stormed out of the room, and the teahouse owner muttered under his breath, "Mph... acting like he is so smart..." He left the room as well. CHAPTER FOUR Meanwhile, Bairan and Baian had gotten far from the inn. Along the way, Bairan asked, "Do you know where the Lin family lives?" Baian replied, "Yes, Bairan-jie, I know it well." Bairan thought to herself that if she truly belonged to the Lin family as one of their daughters, they would recognize her there. They continued on their way, but suddenly, Baian stopped in his tracks. Bairan looked at him. "What is wrong...?" Baian said with a trembling voice, "T-this..." He pointed ahead, toward a group of men loading sacks onto carts. Near them stood a man dressed in fine cloth, giving instructions. Another man rushed over and whispered something in his ear. The well-dressed man's expression immediately changed. Bairan looked at Baian again. "Who is he...?" Baian said quietly, "He is... Master Tong." Bairan turned around, wanting to change their route quickly, but it was already too late. Master Tong narrowed his eyes. He shouted, "Quickly, arrest them! That is Uncle Mu's servant boy and that girl! Go after them now!" All the men ran after them. They pushed through the crowd, shoving and weaving past people. Baian clung to Bairan's hand as they ran. Looking back, his face paled intensely. He cried, "They are so close, Bairan-jie!" Bairan shouted without turning her head, "Do not look back—run faster!" But Baian's eyes, darting back in panic from time to time, suddenly pulled his hand free from hers. He stopped dead in his tracks, turned to face their pursuers, and yelled, "Go, Bairan-jie! I will hold them off!" Bairan, despite the shock, reacted instantly. "Baian—no!" But Baian had already let go. At that very moment, the thunder of hooves erupted from a side alley. A group of horsemen, riding at terrifying speed, galloped into their path—chasing another rider. Baian, frozen by the sudden onslaught, was nearly trampled by horses. Bairan cried out, "Baian!" She pulled his arm and shoved him aside just in time. They both stumbled, crashing hard onto the dusty ground, pain shooting through Bairan's limbs. She looked up. Her eyes—sharp even in the chaos—caught a brief flash of a white horse and a flowing black robe. She instantly recognized them. It was the cold man, and beside him rode Hanyue, flanked by his familiar contingent of guards. Without a second's hesitation, Bairan pushed herself up onto one knee. Her voice rang out through the thunder of hooves and the shouting of men. "Young Master... is your offer to help me still valid?" Hanyue and the others halted. Only two horsemen continued chasing a lone rider. Hanyue's expression was tense at first, but when he saw Bairan clearly, his eyes widened. "It is you!" Bairan bowed and blurted, "Young Master, please save us!" A crowd had already gathered, craning their necks and whispering behind raised sleeves, eager for a spectacle. Master Tong's men arrived soon after, breathless and glaring at Bairan and Baian—but none dared to move forward because of the horsemen nearby. Master Tong himself arrived. Unlike his breathless men, he merely smoothed the creases of his silk robe, his breathing even. He stepped forward, a practiced, honeyed smile stretching across his face. He stepped forward and gave a polite bow toward Hanyue and said in a warm tone, "I am terribly sorry, Young Master. Some of my slaves have caused trouble for you." He bowed even lower. "I will make sure they are taught a proper lesson." Then, turning to his men, he shouted, "Hurry! Clear the path for the gentlemen!" Some of Master Tong's men stepped forward. Bairan did not turn; she looked directly at Hanyue and said firmly, "No, I am not a slave. It is not true—" Master Tong's voice thundered, "Shut up, you damned slave! How dare you speak so rudely to this gentleman?" He turned to Hanyue with a forced smile. "Young Master, it is not her first time—she has used her appearance to mislead men before." Bairan snapped back, "Just like your smooth tongue, then." One of Master Tong's men growled, "How dare you!" He raised his hand to strike her. Baian cried out, "Bairan-jie!" But out of nowhere, something sliced through the air with a sharp whoosh and struck the man's hand. The man staggered back with a cry of pain, clutching his wrist with tearful eyes. Bairan turned in the direction of the cold man. His eyes were downcast, looking at the reins in his hand. When he finally lifted his gaze, their eyes met. His gaze was a still, frozen lake, reflecting everything but revealing nothing. He looked at her as he might look at a stone on the road. Bairan wondered: Was it really him? Hanyue looked at Master Tong, his voice calm but firm. "I want to listen to her as well. Please ask your men to step aside." Master Tong frowned slightly but waved his hand in the end. His men stepped aside. Bairan glanced at him with a faint smirk, then turned to Hanyue. "Young Master, you saw me heading into town this morning. I got separated from my family, and I came here hoping to find them. On the way, I met the teahouse owner and the innkeeper. They both offered to help me, but they had other plans. They intended to sell me—to this man." She pointed directly at Master Tong. "Slander!" Master Tong shouted, stepping forward. Hanyue raised his voice sharply. "Sir, I said—let her finish speaking." Master Tong bowed slightly, lowering his voice. "But she is ruining my reputation!" Bairan cut in coldly: “You say I am slandering you, but do you have any proof that I am your slave? You say I have used my appearance before; then tell me—does anyone here,” she pointed to the crowd, “know me?” There was a whisper among the onlookers, but no one stepped forward to say they recognized her. Master Tong's expression darkened. He hadn't thought this young girl could have such a sharp tongue. But Bairan continued calmly, with her steady voice, "But I have proof of what I said." She turned her gaze to Baian and gave him a small smile. "This young man—he works at the teahouse. He was the one who told me about their plan. That is why we ran away." She paused, then lifted her hand to her hair. "I did not have any valuable items with me, only a hairpin, which I gave to them. Look at me now. All I am using is a chopstick to tie my hair. If they truly meant to help me, why did we run away?" A man in the crowd raised his voice. "I know that boy—he works at Uncle Mu's teahouse!" Another shouted, "I was at the inn for lunch—I saw the innkeeper speaking with this girl!" A rough voice sounded: "Indeed, that is why Master Tong was in such a rush to get to the capital today." Hearing the crowd, Master Tong stammered, "Young Master, believe me—I am just a merchant. I did not know Master Mu and Master Fu were doing such things. They sold me a slave, and I simply bought her, that is all. If I knew—" Bairan interrupted him in a sharp voice. "So, it is not the first time you have bought a free girl as a slave just because someone offered her to you?" Beads of sweat formed on Master Tong's forehead. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyes darting toward the exit as the murmurs in the crowd grew louder. He tried to gather his composure and sneered at her. "But in the end, it is only your story—you are forcing people to believe you." Then he turned to look at Hanyue. "Young man, do not take this as an offense. But what gives you the right to pass judgments in this matter?" Hanyue's gaze remained calm. Without a word, he slowly reached inside his robe. From beneath the fine silk layers, he withdrew a gleaming jade token. He said in a firm voice, "This is the special Seal of the Palace. We are acting under His Majesty's direct command." He held it high. The token was deep ink-green jade, its polished surface holding a faint cloud pattern that glinted in the light. He continued calmly, "I do have the right to interfere. It is the emperor's rule—justice must be served when someone asks for it. However, since this incident occurred within this jurisdiction, it is only proper to notify the local authorities." His cold eyes locked with Master Tong's. "Now, do you still question my right to act?" Master Tong's movements froze; his face fell at once. Gasps rippled through the crowd. "They are from the capital!" people whispered, turning to one another in hushed awe. Without delay, Hanyue turned to his men and ordered, "Take them to the yamen . Arrest the innkeeper and the teahouse owner as well. Tell the local magistrate to handle the interrogation with care." At once, Hanyue's men stepped forward, seizing Master Tong and his attendants with swift precision. He struggled, trying to break free from their grip. Master Tong cried out, his voice trembling, "No, Young Master—please! It is not true! Do not let her fool you, I am just a merchant—just a merchant!" But his voice was quickly drowned out as one of Hanyue's men shoved a rough cloth into his mouth, cutting his screams into muffled chokes. Meanwhile, Bairan was gently helping Baian to his feet. She paid no mind to Master Tong's shouting. Her attention was entirely on the boy. She asked him softly, "Are you alright? Did you get hurt?" Baian, staring at her, blinked slowly. He nodded, then shook his head. Bairan smiled and gently touched his head. "Do not be afraid. We are safe now." Bairan's gaze shifted from Hanyue to the silent, cold man. She lowered her head, performing a bow that was steady and grateful. "I am deeply grateful to you both, gentlemen. My apologies for troubling you a second time before the sun has even set." Hanyue's eyes traveled over her. The gray silt of the road now clung to her hair and robes, and a dark, blooming bruise was beginning to show through the fabric of her right sleeve. Yet, her hands remained firmly on the boy's shoulders. She seemed entirely detached from her own skin, her focus locked on the child trembling beside her. Hanyue felt a strange tug of respect. "Young Miss," he intervened softly, "your arm—" Bairan offered a thin smile. "It is just a scratch." But as her fingers accidentally brushed the torn fabric, a sharp hiss escaped her teeth. "Perhaps... a slightly painful one." Baian lunged toward her, his eyes red. "Bairan-jie! Your arm!" Bairan kept her smile fixed, though she let out a mock, theatrical huff. She tapped his nose with a dusty finger. "And whose fault is that? If a certain someone had not let go of my hand, I would not be decorating the street with my elbows, would I?" The boy's lip quivered. "I am sorry..." Bairan's expression softened instantly. She reached out, ruffling his messy hair and smoothing the dirt from his forehead. "There is no need for sorry between us. You were brave when it mattered. Just stay close from now on—do not let the wind blow you away again. My little hero." The word hero seemed to act like a tonic. The weight lifted from Baian's shoulders, and a bright, shaky grin broke across his face. "Okay, Bairan-jie!" Hanyue cast a glance at the cold man. He responded with a slow, deliberate blink. Hanyue nodded, then turned his warm gaze back to Bairan. "Young Miss, we will see to it that you find your family. For now, let us go somewhere quieter, where you might tell me the details of your plight." Baian perked up, a dusty finger pointing down the street. "There is Master Fang's inn, just at the corner," he chimed in, then looked up at Bairan as if seeking approval. "He is a good man." Bairan met Hanyue's eyes and gave a slight nod. "Very well. Let us go there." As they stepped into Master Fang's inn, an elderly man with a kind face hurried from behind the counter, wiping his hands on an apron. "Welcome, gentlemen! Welcome, Young Miss," he greeted, bowing respectfully. "How may this humble inn serve you today?" Hanyue spoke with easy authority. "We require a good meal and three separate rooms to rest in." Master Fang enthusiastically clasped his hands together. "Right away, Young Master, right away! Would you prefer to inspect your rooms first, or shall the kitchen prepare the meals?" Hanyue glanced back. Bairan offered a polite, gentle smile, while Baian shrank behind her sleeve. "Meals first," Hanyue decided. "And please send for a physician. This young lady's arm has been injured." Master Fang nodded rapidly, but before he could turn away, Bairan stepped forward, tucking her bruised arm behind her back. "There is no need for a physician, Young Master," she said quickly. Hanyue's brow furrowed slightly. "But—" "Trust me," Bairan interrupted. "It is merely a scrape from the road; it is not like my arm is broken. It will heal perfectly well on its own. You have already extended more than enough kindness to us today, Young Master. I refuse to cause you further trouble." Without waiting for him to argue, she turned to the innkeeper. "Uncle, might we impose upon you for a basin of water to wash the dust from our faces?" She nudged Baian, who gave a vigorous, dust-scattering nod. The old man paused, his eyes narrowing as he squinted at the little boy. He took a slow step closer, peering through the grime. "Boy... is that you? Master Mu's servant?" Baian peeked out from behind Bairan's sleeve and offered a shy, dusty smile. "Yes, Uncle Fang, it is me." Master Fang let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "My eyesight must be failing me—I did not recognize you under all that street dirt! Come, come in... how did you manage to get yourself into such a messy state again?" He gestured toward the back hall, looking at Bairan. "Right this way, Young Miss." Bairan smiled, glancing back at Hanyue and the cold man who stood like a shadow at his back. "We shall return shortly." Hanyue gave a slight nod after they went away. The cold man moved to a secluded table, his posture rigid as he took his seat. Hanyue chose a spot nearby and settled in.