Chu Xia waited from morning till the sun set. Lying sideways in the cold crevice, drifting in and out of consciousness, she almost fainted several times. As the sky darkened, she saw no sign of He Butuo and his men. Turning her head to look at the swaying shadows of the trees, she suddenly felt warmth at her feet, as if something was nudging them. She looked down and met a pair of emerald green eyes, flickering eerily. When one is extremely fatigued, life and death seem to lose their importance. Chu Xia felt no fear; instead, she gently moved her toes, nudging the furry creature. It turned out to be an animal the size of a wild cat, with snow-white fur and sharp ears, not at all shy as it looked at Chu Xia. “It’s a little leopard,” Chu Xia thought with a start, “There are indeed leopards here.” The little leopard clumsily climbed over her, curled up beside her neck, and even licked her cheek with its tongue, showing no signs of having teeth yet. After a while, the little leopard fell into a sweet sleep beside her head. Chu Xia let it rest on her shoulder, feeling much less afraid.
Footsteps approached outside the crevice, and Chu Xia woke up with a start, slowly lifting her body to shield the little leopard behind her. Sure enough, moments later, she was lifted up and thrown to the ground. “Did I not tell you that tonight is your last chance?” He Butuo looked at Chu Xia darkly, “If you cooperate and tell everything at once, I’ll make sure you die painlessly, like falling asleep.” Chu Xia lay on the ground, panting softly, “You didn’t find anything?” “We’ve searched every inch of the cliff, but found nothing.” He Butuo squinted dangerously, “So, I can only fulfill the promise I made that day.” He smiled slightly, calling over the nearest follower, “Come here.” “Wait—” Chu Xia suddenly spoke, “Have you checked that pavilion on the mountainside?” In the twilight, the ancient pavilion stood precariously on the hillside. He Butuo thought for a moment, then summoned two men, “Go and check, don’t miss a single tile.” Half an hour later, the men returned, empty-handed: “Leader, we dismantled the pavilion, but there was nothing there.” He Butuo laughed instead of getting angry, grabbed Chu Xia, and threw her to a man in black: “Trying to buy time, do you think I can’t see through it?” He pointed to a gap in the cliff about three meters above the ground, “Old Seven, you go first and enjoy yourself, then we’ll decide what to do next.”
Chu Xia felt alternately cold and hot, about to grit her teeth when someone pinched her cheeks and stuffed a rag into her mouth. He Butuo laughed, “Want to die? Dying is much harder than living.” Chu Xia was on the brink of fainting, her long lashes trembling as she closed her eyes, seeing the little leopard still lying in the crevice, watching her intently. Her heart sank with a feeling of desolation, and she stopped struggling, letting the man grab her hair and throw her into the cave.
Inside the cave, it was dim, illuminated only by the faint glow of torches outside, revealing jagged rocks that looked terrifying. With her mouth gagged, Chu Xia could only crawl towards the cave entrance, making soft, muffled sounds. Behind her, she heard the rustle of clothes being removed. She had moved a few feet when someone grabbed her ankle and dragged her back. Forced onto her back, she heard the man’s cold laughter, “I suggest you stop struggling to spare yourself some pain.” Chu Xia shook her head desperately, retreating until her back touched the cold, damp stone wall. The man, without mercy, reached out, tearing at her clothes, his cold fingers pressing into her neck, then sliding down to reveal the smooth skin of her chest. In the chill of early spring, Chu Xia shivered uncontrollably, seeing the man’s hand about to touch her chest, she closed her eyes and slammed her head against the stone wall. The man hadn’t anticipated this move and tried to stop her, but only managed to block halfway. Chu Xia’s head hit the wall, and blood started to flow from the wound. The man dragged her away from the wall, placing her on the ground. The air was filled with a faint scent of blood. Chuxia felt the man’s hands tearing at her clothes, his actions rough and violent. A hot, solid male body pressed down on her, the contact of skin making her feel despair and cold. She could feel the man’s excitement growing, his movements becoming more frantic, as if he wanted to tear her apart… Had she known this would be the outcome, why had she trusted him in the first place? Suddenly, Chuxia remembered what He Butuo had said: “Death is much easier than life.” She turned away from the man’s scorching breath, and through her tear-blurred vision, she saw a pair of glowing eyes in the darkness. — A leopard! Her guess was right; the little leopard had rolled down from here, and this was indeed the leopard’s den! For some reason, Chuxia suddenly felt a sense of relief, though the back of her head was throbbing with pain, and blood was still flowing out. Yes, she would use her own blood to lure the returning mother leopard!
The mother leopard approached silently. The man on top of Chuxia, a top assassin from Tiangang, naturally sensed the danger behind him, paused his actions, and leaped forward. The mother leopard lunged at him, and Chuxia, with great effort, rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the leopard’s claws. In the dark, the assassin was now fighting the leopard, their roars echoing. Chuxia sat dazedly at the cave’s entrance, looking up at the sky, seemingly detached from the chaos. It was the first day of the fourth lunar month, with the moon in its new phase, barely visible, making it hard to discern. Young Master, I have done what I promised, but what about you? Without further hesitation, she leaned backward and fell. The wind brushed past her cheeks, and she closed her eyes, expecting the pain of impact, but instead, she gently fell into someone’s arms. It was a man’s embrace — Chuxia’s heart sank; if even this attempt at suicide failed, the torment to follow would be unbearable. The man held her, ignoring her struggles, first removing the cloth from her mouth, then brushing aside the hair on her forehead, and spoke gently, “It’s me, Chuxia.”
Chuxia stopped struggling but kept her eyes closed, unwilling to open them — the voice was too familiar, making her feel as if she was in a beautiful dream. But opening her eyes would surely wake her up, wouldn’t it? She heard her teeth chattering, then felt someone press on her head several times, slowing the blood flow. Someone wrapped her in a cloak and gently placed something on her wrist, still in that familiar, gentle voice, “The first of April, you wanted to tell me this, right?” It was the Young Master! It was Jun Ye’an! Chuxia opened her eyes wide.
The night was dim with sparse stars, but the Young Master looked down at her with deep, calm eyes that seemed to hide turbulent currents. She didn’t know what to say; tears filled her eyes instantly. The Young Master sighed softly, averted his gaze as if to conceal some unusual emotion, placed her on the ground, and softly said, “Wait a moment; I’ll deal with these troubles first.”
Chuxia didn’t know her own feelings, whether she was angry or scared, but she grabbed his sleeve, not wanting him to leave. The Young Master paused, smiled slightly, then bent down to pick up a fluffy ball from the ground — it was the little leopard. He placed the leopard in her arms, rubbed her forehead, and said gently, “If you’re scared, just close your eyes and count in your heart from one to a hundred, and I’ll be back.”
The little leopard, recognizing a familiar face, burrowed into Chuxia’s embrace, licked her bleeding wrist, and happily rolled over. Chuxia silently let go of the Young Master’s sleeve.
The Young Master turned around, facing He Butuo and several others, raising his eyebrows slightly, “Tiangang?”
Chapter Eighteen (Part One)
