The moon set, the stars crossed.
Song Qingchao panted, leaning against the tree trunk to rest.
She raised her arm to wipe the sweat from her brow, her gaze fixed on the distance.
This Dejin Mountain, in her previous life, she had only learned of Xie Yan’s demotion after asking Feng Shaocheng.
Feng Shaocheng had even thrown a great tantrum over the matter.
From then on, she dared not inquire about Xie Yan’s news anymore.
After recovering, Song Qingchao took out the map Bai You’an had given her and continued on her way.
In her past life, Xie Yan was impeached for suppressing bandits, which hindered his career, leading to his repeated demotions.
Therefore, based on the timeline, Xie Yan should be here!
Then her fifty percent chance of success could be raised to ninety percent. As long as she acted first, the people in the village below would be saved.
It was just a pity for Mu Mu.
She had thought she could resolve the matter in one night, but the journey alone had consumed a significant amount of time.
Angrily, she struck her own weak legs, hating her uncooperative body…
The oppressive, uncomfortable feeling in her chest grew, her heart beating faster and faster.
Song Qingchao’s temples were slicked with cold sweat, clinging to her face in strands. Her vision blurred again, and she vaguely saw a dark shadow not far away.
She held her head, trying to shake herself awake, but her groggy will was no match for the approaching unconsciousness.
Sachet…
Yes, she still had Bai You’an’s sachet, given to her by Ying Zhong!
Without hesitation, Song Qingchao retrieved the sachet from her spatial storage. The moment she grasped it, her mind instantly cleared.
As her vision cleared, the figure lunged before her.
Exquisitely beautiful, almost devilish features, with a slightly curved lip that held a hint of laziness and recklessness.
“Little lady, we meet again.”
To be honest, Song Qingchao was reluctant to encounter this person with a countenance like a harbinger of doom.
She threw a punch without hesitation, but the person used softness to overcome hardness, pinning her wrist.
Bai You’an lifted his eyelids, his gaze falling on the sachet in her other hand.
Sensing his attention, Song Qingchao hid the hand holding the sachet behind her. “I didn’t expect to run into Second Master here.”
Bai You’an chuckled softly, his face drawing closer to Song Qingchao.
He leaned into her ear and whispered like a demon, “Your sachet is quite unique, little lady.”
Song Qingchao turned her face away, attempting to create distance. However, with her wrist in Bai You’an’s grip, she bumped into the tree trunk behind her.
Her hand throbbed with pain, and she instinctively moved it from behind to the front.
In an instant, both of Song Qingchao’s wrists were pinned by Bai You’an.
Her head rested against the tree trunk, her voice cold, “This sachet was a gift from my husband, so of course it is unique.”
“Husband?” Bai You’an raised an eyebrow, revealing a smile that could be called alluring. “So, little lady is already married.”
His warm breath brushed her face, making her scalp tingle.
“I wonder if your husband is as good-looking as I am?”
Song Qingchao frowned slightly.
She disliked people with such strong invasive tendencies.
Politely put, it was overbearing; crudely put, it was perverted.
“Second Master is perhaps meddling too much. This humble lady has urgent matters to attend to. Might you please release me?”
Song Qingchao’s gaze indifferently flicked to the large hand gripping her wrist.
Bai You’an followed her gaze, chuckled, and then released her hand. “Certainly.”
The moment Song Qingchao brushed past him, he agilely dodged the sachet in her hand and struck the back of her neck.
Song Qingchao stumbled, then swayed forward limply.
Bai You’an instinctively reached out, his arm encircling her waist. With a turn, he caught her delicate body as she fell forward.
If he wasn't mistaken, this was the sachet he had given to Ying Zhong.
She was pressing down on him.
Blood flowed more profusely from his wounds, causing Bai You’an to flinch from the pain, yet he did not even frown.
He caught her and sat down on the ground.
The hand holding the sachet pressed against his dizzy head.
His nostrils were filled with a medley of scents, making his heart feel dizzy as well.
Bai You’an lowered his hand and looked down at the slightly creased sachet he held.
Indeed, it was his.
His gaze then fell upon Song Qingchao’s face.
Her features were like a painting, her form delicate and frail.
Just lying there quietly, she possessed an indescribable beauty.
“Song Qingchao…”
He murmured her name, his grip on the sachet tightening.
What are you trying to do?
Husband?
Could it be… she was still thinking of Feng Shaocheng?
But this was his sachet…
Bai You’an was puzzled, looking down at the enchanting woman in his arms.
It didn't matter. None of this concerned him.
He only needed to fulfill the task his master had assigned him: to protect them, brother and sister, in this lifetime.
He carefully placed Song Qingchao against the tree, leaning her against it.
He was afraid that if he touched her even slightly, she might fall apart.
He removed his outer robe, and as he reached his left arm, the smooth fabric stuck to the blood that had seeped through.
Bai You’an indifferently continued to tend to it, then took out wound medicine from his satchel, opened it with his mouth, and spat it onto the grass.
His fingers trembled as he applied the medicine, his gaze fixed on Song Qingchao.
He worried she might wake up.
Without the cover of his clothes, his entire upper body felt cool.
After a simple dressing, he changed into the clothes that Lin Zhong had brought him.
The previous set was stained with blood.
He had changed into black clothing out of concern for encountering minor figures, not expecting to run into Song Qingchao.
He lowered his head, tied the white silk ribbon, and then set fire to the clothes he had removed.
He was disguised as a doctor.
His appearance was concealed by seventy percent, and his eyes were covered with a silk ribbon.
Even the roguish aura and the air of decadence were suppressed, making him appear humble, polite, gentle, and refined.
Bai You’an endured his injuries and picked up Song Qingchao, who was leaning against the tree trunk.
He carried her all the way towards the group at the foot of the mountain.
The girl in his arms felt light, her slightly furrowed brows seeming to hold unspeakable secrets.
He couldn’t afford to observe more.
Watching the sun gradually push the moon aside, his steps quickened.
He had to return before dawn.
Finally, as the sun revealed half its face, casting a warm, reddish hue over everything, he arrived at the carriage by the encampment.
Ying Zhong saw him return, his left arm stained with blood, carrying a woman in his arms, and quickly stepped forward to take her.
Bai You’an, however, shifted slightly, stubbornly carrying the woman into the carriage.
Ying Zhong, left empty-handed by the carriage, was bewildered in the wind.
He looked at the still-shaking carriage curtain with a puzzled expression, then shouted "Second Master" and scrambled onto the carriage.
As soon as he lifted the curtain, a sharp glance pierced him.
His hand, resting on the curtain, froze mid-air, and he forcibly swallowed the word "Master."
Defeated, he obediently sat aside.
Bai You’an placed the person in his arms onto the carriage and began to tidy her stray hairs.
“Second Master, shall I re-bandage your wound? It seems to have split open again,” Ying Zhong said in a hushed tone, his gaze inadvertently falling upon the woman on the couch.
He nearly lost his balance from the shock.
“Sister Chaoc ha o?”
“Sister Chaoc ha o?” Bai You’an glanced at him indifferently. “Why do you call her so intimately?”