Zuo Canglang did not return to Yang Lianting’s dormitory. For reasons she couldn't quite name, she trusted Murong Yan. She believed that as long as he gave his word, he would not break it.
On the small drill grounds, lessons were in full swing. The "Masters" never cared who was late or even who failed to show up. They only cared about the results—who remained alive at the end to become a true powerhouse. Zuo Canglang returned to her rank, and as she turned her head, she froze.
No one knew better than she the force behind the arrow that had struck Leng Feiyan. Even a deer should have collapsed from such a hit. Yet Leng Feiyan had not. She had pulled the arrow out at some unknown point; though the fabric over her chest was soaked in a patch of blood, her lips were pressed thin and her gaze remained as sharp as ever. The boy sparring with her was trembling so hard his hands shook.
Sensing Zuo Canglang’s gaze, Leng Feiyan glared back with furrowed brows. As their eyes met, the surrounding youths instinctively backed away. However, Zuo Canglang did not move against her. While this was the perfect opportunity to take her life, there was a moving sense of tenacity and persistence in the girl’s eyes.
That evening, Zuo Canglang snatched some food and went to Yang Lianting’s dormitory first. A physician was already there, re-dressing his wounds and decocting medicine. The physician’s medical chest sat nearby, filled with various ointments for injuries. Zuo Canglang casually swiped a few bottles. Though the physician noticed, he ultimately chose not to argue with these half-grown children and remained silent.
Leaving Yang Lianting’s room, Zuo Canglang walked a short distance to another person’s quarters—Leng Feiyan’s. Leng Feiyan’s dormitory was clean and sparse; not a stray blade of grass or speck of dust could be seen, as if no one lived there at all. Zuo Canglang stood at the door, met by Leng Feiyan’s clear hostility. "What are you doing here?"
Zuo Canglang said nothing, slowly lining up several bottles of medicine on the table. Leng Feiyan’s gaze lingered briefly on the bottles before she asked, "What is the meaning of this?" She opened a bottle, took a sniff, and sneered, "Charity?"
Zuo Canglang ignored her and turned to leave.
Once Zuo Canglang had vanished from sight, Leng Feiyan finally picked up a bottle. She knew the extent of her own injuries better than anyone. But would a few bottles of medicine truly be of any use?
After a moment’s hesitation, she finally shed her clothes, cleaned the wound, and reapplied the medicine. It hurt—the powder hitting the raw flesh brought a piercing pain. But who here hadn't suffered injuries or endured pain? She pressed her lips tight, her gaze cold. Though only a teenager, her expression held a detached indifference toward her own suffering.
As she was applying the medicine, there was a slight movement outside. Leng Feiyan stowed the bottles and pulled her clothes together just as someone entered. It was one of the "Masters." Leng Feiyan had a beautiful face, possessing a vivid loveliness that was impossible to forget once seen. Many here lusted after her, but she was a cactus covered in thorns. Over the years, who among them hadn't had their hands pricked by her?
The Master walked up to her, his gaze lingering on her blood-stained clothes. He smiled faintly. "With such a serious injury, why didn't you come find us?"
Leng Feiyan’s right hand tightened; she knew this would not end well today. The children here were being trained for the Second Prince, Murong Yan, and Leng Feiyan was undoubtedly one of the best among them. The probability of her being chosen by the Prince was very high. Therefore, if one had already offended her, it was naturally better to make her shut up forever.
The Master approached slowly, his tall frame casting a large shadow. "Come, let me see the wound." His voice sounded chilling in the gloom.
Leng Feiyan replied, "It’s not serious. I can still hold a sword."
She gripped her sword, but the Master let out a cold laugh. Suddenly, he drew a flexible sword from his waist and lunged.
Even though Leng Feiyan was heavily injured, he dared not be careless. He put his full strength into the strike. Leng Feiyan parried with her sword, but the injury to her chest was indeed severe; the short sword was knocked from her hand. She could only watch helplessly as the flexible blade, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, darted toward her!
She rolled to dodge, the blood from her wound slowly soaking into her tunic like a blooming peony. It throbbed with pain. She bit her lip, then suddenly froze. A figure stood outside the window, silent as a ghost. There was no telling how long they had been there.
It was a girl in grey hemp clothes, her long hair tied high in a ponytail. Zuo Canglang?
Leng Feiyan silently looked away. People died here every month; even if they grew up together, there were no friends. Who could rely on whom? If she died, how would she be any different from those who starved or succumbed to illness?
Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the Master’s blade with one hand. The edge sliced into her palm, her eyes turning bloodshot. She hooked her right hand into a claw and drove it violently into his throat. The Master wasn't surprised; everyone here knew how ruthless she was. He tried to wrench his sword back, but suddenly, a gust of wind rushed behind him!
Startled, he didn't even have time to turn before he felt a cold sensation in his neck. A bamboo arrow pierced through his throat from right to left. He couldn't even turn his head; after a gurgling sound in his throat, he collapsed, dead. Leng Feiyan gasped for breath, her gaze toward Zuo Canglang still filled with shock and suspicion—she had actually killed a Master!
In this place, failing to obey a Master’s command was a capital offense! Who would dare harbor the thought of killing them?
Zuo Canglang walked inside, bent down to hoist the corpse over her shoulder, and glanced at Leng Feiyan. Finally, she spoke. "The Second Prince agreed to treat Yang Lianting and sent a physician to him. Go to his quarters. The Masters will likely assume he ordered the treatment for both of you. I don't think anyone else will trouble you."
Leng Feiyan narrowed her eyes. Zuo Canglang had always been a "closed-mouth gourd"; in the two years they had spent in the orphan camp, she hadn't said more than a few words in total. Who would have thought her strikes would be so ruthless? Leng Feiyan stood up as Zuo Canglang carried the body out. Outside lay the desolate mountains, full of cliffs and pits. It wouldn't be difficult to destroy the evidence.
Back in the dormitory, Yang Lianting had taken his medicine and his fever had broken, though he had not yet woken. Leng Feiyan nudged him a few times; seeing no reaction, she didn't stand on ceremony and lay down right beside him, though she didn't dare fall asleep. It wasn't easy to survive here; it was better to stay vigilant.
When Zuo Canglang returned, Yang Lianting was still asleep. She placed several flatbreads on the table and sat by his bed. Suddenly, a dark head poked over. Zuo Canglang’s hand was already on her knife when the head squeezed in—it was Leng Feiyan. She handed a medicine bottle to Zuo Canglang. "The wound on my back... I can't reach it. Come, help me apply some medicine."
Zuo Canglang finally snapped. "What the hell does that have to do with me? You really know how to push your luck!"
Leng Feiyan was shameless. "Owing one favor is a debt, and owing two is still a debt. Why shouldn't I ask you? Hurry up, right here..."
She unfastened her tunic. Zuo Canglang saw the girl’s skin covered in a crisscross of scars. Some had healed and faded, leaving marks of varying depths. Zuo Canglang wiped her hands clean, scooped out some ointment, and slowly applied it to the wound. Leng Feiyan gestured with her chin toward Yang Lianting on the bed. "Why is he still asleep?"
Zuo Canglang replied crossly, "Isn't it because of you?"
Leng Feiyan fell silent, lying half-prone on the bed as she let Zuo Canglang smear the medicine across her back. Zuo Canglang’s arrow had pierced clean through her; fortunately, she had dodged nimbly enough to avoid vital organs. The arrow had been crude, and when she pulled it out herself, it had left many wooden splinters in the wound. Zuo Canglang picked out every splinter before finishing the application. Leng Feiyan said nothing more; lying beside Yang Lianting, she actually fell asleep.
The night was as thick as ink, punctuated by the occasional chirp of insects. Zuo Canglang did not wake her. She sat at the foot of the simple wooden bed, listening to the two different rhythms of breathing—one light, one heavy—like a symphony. She didn't know if the killing of the Master would be exposed. With the two on the bed barely able to move, she couldn't sleep either. She simply sat cross-legged, closing her eyes to rest her mind. After a while, a breeze brushed over the roof, making a rustling sound.
The next morning, as dawn broke, Yang Lianting was the first to sit up. The moment he moved, Zuo Canglang opened her eyes. Yang Lianting’s gaze was apologetic. "I just wanted some water."
Zuo Canglang rose to pour him a bowl. As he took it, he asked, "Why is Leng Feiyan here? And who treated my wounds?"
Zuo Canglang remained silent. The rooster crowed three times, and people outside were already getting up. Leng Feiyan woke at some point as well and suddenly said, "Hey, I'm not going to practice today. Bring me some breakfast too."
Zuo Canglang glanced at Yang Lianting. She hesitated for just a moment, and Leng Feiyan became annoyed. "Don't worry, I won't do anything to him!"
Yang Lianting scooted toward the wall to put some distance between them. Seeing her complexion, he knew her injuries were not light, so he gave Zuo Canglang a slight nod.
After Zuo Canglang left, Leng Feiyan lay back down. After all, youths don't hold grudges for long. With two patients lying on the same bed, it was inevitable they would chat. Leng Feiyan spoke to Yang Lianting: "How did you end up here?"
Yang Lianting said, "My grandfather was Yang Xuanhe."
Zuo Canglang had never heard the name—in Leng Feiyan’s words, she was a "country bumpkin" with no worldly knowledge. But when Leng Feiyan heard the name, she understood. "The Divine Physician Yang Xuanhe?"
Yang Lianting said, "Yes. My father was framed, leading to the execution of the entire Yang family. Because of my young age, my sentence was commuted to being sold as a government slave. The Second Prince brought me here."
Leng Feiyan gave an "oh" and fell silent. Yang Lianting turned to ask her, "What about you? How did you get here?"
Leng Feiyan said, "A flood. My parents both died. I was sold to a restaurant where the Second Prince happened to be eating."
Yang Lianting asked, "A restaurant? As a worker?"
Leng Feiyan smiled faintly. "When the Prince saved me, the chef was sharpening his knife."
Yang Lianting froze, his eyes widening. "They... they ate people?"
Neither spoke again. In this Great Yan Kingdom, after so many years of war and chaos, people no longer acted like humans, and homes were no longer homes.
After a silence, Leng Feiyan asked, "The one with you, Zuo Canglang—how did she get here?"
Yang Lianting shook his head. "I don't know. She never talks about it." He thought for a moment, then asked, "Who gave us this medicine? The ingredients are very expensive; even the Masters here might not get to use them."
Leng Feiyan shrugged. "The Second Prince. I don't know why either. But if you use your brain, you should know Zuo Canglang must have begged for it."
Yang Lianting fell silent. Leng Feiyan leaned in, her face full of gossip. "I say, what exactly is the relationship between you two that she looks out for you so much?"
Yang Lianting still didn't speak. Leng Feiyan thought about it and suddenly said with a look of disgust, "Don't tell me you two... eww..."
Furious, Yang Lianting threw a punch at her chest. Leng Feiyan caught it, laughing uncontrollably.
That evening, Zuo Canglang brought food—steamed buns and stuffed buns. Leng Feiyan gnawed on a bun with cold water. After a while, she asked, "Hey, how did you come to be here?"
Zuo Canglang said nothing. Leng Feiyan found it dull. "You're just like this. One could beat you with two sticks and still not squeeze a word out of you."
Beside them, Yang Lianting also took a bun. He was a son of a wealthy family; even having fallen to this state, his eating manner was still quite elegant. Hearing Leng Feiyan’s words, he glared at her. "You're a girl, how can you speak like that!"
Leng Feiyan scoffed. "I'm a girl, so I should be pampered and living in luxury! But look at me now? Squatting here gnawing on buns and drinking cold water!" After taking a few more bites, she added, "One day, I will master peerless martial arts, suppress the strong to help the weak, and provide for the whole world!"
Yang Lianting was unimpressed and huffed. "With your personality, at most you'll be a bandit."
Leng Feiyan immediately kicked him. "Bastard! This is called having grand ambitions, don't you understand!"
Yang Lianting said, "I don't care about grand ambitions. I only hope to clear the Yang family's name and bring the person who framed my father to justice! My grandfather practiced medicine to help people, and my father was always upright..."
Before he could finish, Leng Feiyan interjected, "Give it a rest. 'Upright'? For all we know, he was overflowing with evil and got exactly what he deserved..."
Yang Lianting’s eyebrows shot up. Ignoring his injuries, he flipped over and grabbed her throat with both hands. Zuo Canglang let them scrap. Leng Feiyan quickly pinned Yang Lianting beneath her again, subduing him completely. "Little brat, you think you can take me?"
She was gloating when she accidentally pulled her wound. She hissed in pain, then looked up at Zuo Canglang. "What about you? Don't you have any grand aspirations?"
Zuo Canglang glanced at her, then turned her head to look at the sky, half-hidden behind the pomegranate tree outside the window.
***
