Hot flashes

The order to depart in three days was carried out but it took five days to execute.

A large number of refugees from the north suddenly poured into Linchuan City—wealthy households and timid commoners who had heard that Prince Jingbei was seriously injured and were worried about the reversal of the war situation.

The streets were packed with horse-drawn carriages, oxcarts, and pedestrians carrying their belongings, making it impossible for the prince's entourage to get out.

Chang An asked whether the road should be cleared, but Zhou Heng, looking at the anxious faces outside the car window, shook his head: "Let's wait a day."

This wait led to Xiao Jue's second order.

The order was delivered personally by Chen Shen, who was travel-worn and had bloodshot eyes, clearly having rushed back from the front lines day and night.

Instead of a letter, they brought a small black iron token, with "Jingbei" engraved on the front and "Rujian Wang" on the back.

"His Highness's decree," Chen Shen knelt on one knee, his voice hoarse, "Please take this order and proceed south. If you encounter any obstacles along the way, you may use this order to mobilize local troops and requisition supplies. Also…"

He paused, then said, "His Highness said that Nandu is not like Linchuan; it is a melting pot of all sorts of people. After you enter the city, young master, do not show your face easily. We will discuss everything after His Highness arrives."

Zhou Heng accepted the token. The black iron was cold and heavy, its sharp edges digging into his palm. He didn't ask about Xiao Jue's injuries; Chen Shen's appearance already said it all.

"Your Highness...did you say anything else?" he asked.

Chen Shen lowered his head: "His Highness said that you, young master... should be careful on the road."

Zhou Heng gripped the token tightly and nodded.

The next morning, before dawn, the caravan quietly drove out of the side gate of the Prince's Mansion, bypassing the congested main street, and exited the city through the west gate. Zhou Heng sat in the carriage, holding Yun Tuan in his arms.

The cat seemed to sense the unease of parting and was very well-behaved throughout the journey, only occasionally stretching out its paw to scratch at the curtain of the car window.

The carriage was specially made, much more spacious than ordinary vehicles, with cushioned interior walls and fixed small tables and storage compartments.

Chang An accompanied him, along with eight elite guards on horseback who stood in front and behind—all of whom were skilled bodyguards personally selected by Chen Shen.

Leaving Linchuan, the official road gradually widened. In early spring in Jiangnan, the fields were already showing faint green hues, and the distant mountains were shrouded in a thin mist, like a light ink painting. But this picture was ruined by the scenery along the way—

Abandoned villages, charred field ridges, and the occasional carcass of dead livestock by the roadside.

The further south you go, the stronger the atmosphere of war becomes. Sometimes you can see convoys of supply wagons heading north, the soldiers escorting them expressionless; other times you can encounter two or three groups of defeated soldiers, ragged and with empty eyes.

Zhou Heng lowered the carriage curtain, not wanting to look anymore.

"Young master," Chang'an handed over some warm water, "have some water. We'll be spending the night on the road; the next post station is eighty li away."

Zhou Heng took the water pouch, took a sip, and asked, "How long...will it take us?"

"If all goes well, traveling day and night, we can reach the outskirts of Nandu in seven or eight days," Chang An said. "But the roads are not safe now, so it will probably take about ten days."

The first two days were relatively peaceful. On the evening of the third day, the convoy turned onto a relatively secluded side road—a secret route planned by Chen Shen, bypassing several checkpoints that might be occupied by remnants of the army.

As dusk settled, they arrived at an abandoned post station. The station was long neglected; the walls were crumbling and the roofs were broken, but it still provided shelter from the wind and rain. The guards quickly cleared out two relatively intact rooms and started a fire to cook.

Zhou Heng got out of the carriage, carrying Yun Tuan, to stretch his muscles. There was a dry well in the backyard of the post station, with weeds growing around it. He was staring at the well in a daze when he suddenly heard a very faint rustling sound outside the wall—like a night bird startled into flight, or like a dry branch being trampled.

The cloud-like creature in his arms suddenly arched its back and made a low "woo-woo" sound.

Almost simultaneously, several dark figures flashed across the top of the wall!

"Enemy attack—!"

The guard leader's stern shout pierced the twilight. Arrows whistled through the air, flashing like cold stars in the darkness, hurtling towards the convoy!

"Young master, come inside!" Chang An pushed Zhou Heng towards the main house of the post station, then drew his sword and deflected a cold arrow aimed at Zhou Heng's back.

Eight guards instantly formed a defensive formation, protecting the main entrance of the house. However, the attackers were clearly well-prepared, far outnumbering them, and each of them was agile and coordinated perfectly, unlike ordinary bandits.

As the rain of arrows subsided, the man in black pounced into the courtyard like a ghost, his blade flashing brightly in the twilight. The sounds of clashing metal, muffled groans, and sharp blades piercing flesh erupted instantly.

Zhou Heng was pushed into the main house by Chang An. He staggered to his feet and looked back to see figures jostling outside the window, blood splattering everywhere. One guard was surrounded by three men. He fought desperately and cut down one of them, but was pierced through the back by another man's long sword and fell heavily to the ground. Another guard roared and pounced on him, dying together with the man wielding the sword.

"They...are coming for me?" Zhou Heng's voice trembled. This route was known only to Chen Shen and a few trusted confidants; how could it have been leaked?

Chang An's face was ashen as he stood guard by the door, knife in hand: "Young Master, the back window!"

There was a dilapidated wooden window on the back wall of the main house. Chang An kicked the window open: "Hurry! Go east along the path behind the house. There's a reed bed about three miles away. Hide there!"

"and you--"

"Leave me alone!" Chang An pushed him out the window. "Hide the token close to your body! Let's go!"

Zhou Heng fell into the weeds behind the house, ignoring the pain, and scrambled to his feet, running eastward. Behind him came Chang An's angry shouts and the clash of weapons, followed by a suppressed groan.

His heart clenched, but he dared not turn around.