The road to Changning was carved into the bones of the southern hills, winding past cliffs, farmlands, and forests that grew thick with spring. It should have been beautiful—but the air hung too still, and even birdsong felt cautious.
Wenyan walked with renewed strength, though he still leaned on the branch he'd whittled into a walking staff. Lianfang moved beside him, sharp-eyed and quiet, her thoughts unreadable.
They had changed into peasant robes Shen Liang had provided—faded, earth-colored, and simple. Enough to blur their faces into the crowd, though neither of them felt invisible.
"Do you think your letter will work?" Lianfang asked, her eyes scanning a passing wagon.
Wenyan touched the scroll hidden in his sash. "It's not a guarantee. It's a whisper in the right ear."
"And if the ear is deaf?"
"Then we shout louder—or run faster."
By dusk, they reached a village on the outskirts of Changning. The roofs were tiled with moss, and a narrow river bisected the town, its stone bridge shaped like a dragon's spine. Smoke rose from hearths, and laughter spilled faintly from a wine house near the center.
"Should we risk staying the night?" Lianfang asked.
Wenyan nodded. "We need to gather news. And we can't travel the cliffs in the dark."
They found an inn with warped wooden beams and an old man asleep at the desk. He stirred only when Wenyan dropped a single coin beside his elbow.
"Two beds," Wenyan said.
"One room," the innkeeper mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "No questions."
"That suits us."
In the small room, the silence between them felt tighter than before.
"You're restless," Wenyan said, watching her pace near the window.
"I keep thinking… what if your friend gave us false hope?"
"He didn't."
"You trust so easily."
"No," he said quietly. "I trust rarely. But I know what fear looks like. Shen Liang feared for us. That means something."
She sat beside him. "Do you ever think about the life we left behind?"
"All the time."
"And do you regret it?"
Wenyan met her eyes. "Not a moment."
The next morning, they walked through the market disguised as a farming couple. Lianfang wore a woven hat that shaded her face. Wenyan carried a basket of dried herbs, pretending to bargain. They heard talk of the roads being watched—soldiers asking questions, a noble's banner sighted near the city gates.
That was when Lianfang saw it.
A man, standing too still near the butcher's stall. Clean robes, sword at his hip. His eyes flicked to her—then away—then back.
"Wenyan," she murmured.
He followed her gaze. "Go. Now."
They moved fast, ducking behind the pottery carts, slipping into the alley between the tea house and a laundry shed.
Hoofbeats. Shouting.
"They saw us," Wenyan said. "We can't stay."
They fled through narrow lanes, the city blurring past. Wenyan guided them toward the edge of town, through the floodgates and into the reed marshes beyond.
By the time they stopped, lungs burning and feet soaked, the city was a smudge behind them.
They made camp under an outcrop of willow trees. Lianfang collapsed onto the grass.
"That was too close."
Wenyan crouched beside her. "They were waiting. Which means Shen Liang was right—your brother has reach."
She shivered, not from the cold. "Do you think he saw me?"
"I don't know."
"I don't want to kill him, Wenyan."
He looked at her. "But will you, if you have to?"
Lianfang didn't answer.
The silence that followed said everything.
They slept in turns, with Wenyan waking near dawn to the sound of someone weeping.
At first, he thought it was Lianfang. But she slept, breath slow and steady.
Then he realized—it came from the reeds.
He moved cautiously, blade drawn.
There, huddled near the water, was a child—barefoot, dirt-smeared, barely ten years old.
She looked up, terrified.
Wenyan lowered the blade. "It's all right. We won't hurt you."
She whispered, "They killed my father. I ran. I thought—maybe someone here would help."
Lianfang joined him. She knelt and brushed hair from the child's face.
"What's your name?"
"Baoqin."
Wenyan and Lianfang exchanged a glance.
The world was no longer chasing just the two of them.
It was falling apart around them.