Wu Xiaoliu proved his worth as a former servant of the Tian household; he handled the intricacies of life within a high-walled manor with remarkable skill. Though Xiao Nanhui did not show it, she knew she was no match for him in this regard and secretly felt relieved that she had gambled on the right person.
In truth, the matter was not overly difficult to arrange. Even the most loyal maidservant was unwilling to accompany her young mistress to what was essentially a death sentence. Everyone knew the Sun family was no place for a peaceful life. As early as half a month ago, young maids had attempted to flee, only to be caught, beaten half to death, and thrown out of the manor—a sight that terrified the rest into submission.
Wu Xiaoliu knew that to insert a stranger into the ranks, they had to find someone inconspicuous to replace. The people directly surrounding the Tian daughter were out of the question; they were familiar faces, and any change would be noticed.
After much deliberation, he settled on the positions of a laundry maid and a sedan-bearer. It happened that a pair of siblings, barely fifteen or sixteen and children of a manor steward, had been chosen to serve the Sun family. They had been mired in misery for days until Wu Xiaoliu approached them. After just a few words, they agreed with tearful gratitude. Fearing the two might change their minds, they spent the night briefing Xiao Nanhui and Wu Xiaoliu on the inner workings of the Tian household to prevent any slips. They even hurriedly tailored a maid’s uniform to fit Xiao Nanhui’s frame.
Xiao Nanhui was simply happy to have a clean set of clothes and felt no anxiety at all. Only Wu Xiaoliu remained crestfallen, sighing enough in two or three days to last a lifetime.
And so, the day of the Tian daughter’s wedding finally arrived.
The wedding procession stretched out like a trail of fresh blood, yet they departed just after the hour of the Ox. There were no heralds singing, no beating of gongs or drums; the group set out in eerie silence with the bride in tow.
It did not feel like a celebration; it felt like a funeral.
The entirety of East Suyan was still shrouded in the hazy dimness of pre-dawn. Xiao Nanhui followed behind the bride’s sedan, looking back at the decaying ancient city amidst the yellow sands. she tightened her face cloth.
She was one step closer to her goal.
Originally, only a river separated the East and West cities of Suyan. However, ever since the Sun family diverted the source, the Tianmu River no longer flowed through the area. Over time, eroded by wind and sand, the original riverbed had collapsed into a ravine stretching over a hundred miles—a chasm nearly impossible for man or beast to cross.
To travel from the East City to the West, one had to loop back to the Lingxi Gobi and pass through Sanmu Pass.
Viewed from above, Sanmu Pass resembled a fish's mouth—a canyon that was wide at the entrance and narrow at the exit. If Bijiang were compared to a round cloth bag, Sanmu Pass was the drawstring that tied it shut.
Years ago, Xiao Zhun had suffered a defeat here. This was why the Sun and Bai clans needed only to station troops at Sanmu Pass and send iron cavalry patrols into the Gobi to hold the entire region of Bijiang.
In recent years, with the Bai clan inciting unrest in Bijiang, few people traveled outside the Gobi. The old official roads were buried under coarse gravel, making the carriage wheels jolt violently and causing blisters on the feet of those walking. Xiao Nanhui had anticipated this; before leaving, she had wrapped her soles in two thick layers of cloth. Even so, after half a day, her feet throbbed with pain.
Despite the discomfort, she refused to waste a single moment, constantly questioning Wu Xiaoliu in low tones about the power dynamics in the Suyan area. Wu Xiaoliu spoke until his throat was parched. At first, he was willing to share, but gradually, no matter how she threatened or enticed him, he refused to open his mouth further.
The midday sun was fierce. Just as it began to slant, the wind and sand ahead thinned, and the group finally caught sight of the shimmering, peculiar pass.
It was a colossal, towering divine statue. Though built of sand and stone, it had stood for centuries against the elements, its features now blurred by time. On the statue's face were three apertures: two where the eyes should be and one on the forehead. From a distance, it looked as though it possessed a third eye, which was why the place was called "Sanmu Pass"—the Three-Eyed Pass.
As the saying goes, "the mountain is in sight, but the horse drops dead from the distance." After spotting the statue, Xiao Nanhui and the others walked for another hour before reaching the canyon entrance. A troop of Sun family camel riders waited beneath the statue. Their posture was arrogant; they didn't even bother to advance a few steps to meet them. Only when the procession reached them did one man slowly dismount. He spoke in a thick Suyan dialect, a cold, mocking smile playing on his lips.
"Is this the daughter of the Tian family?"
The master of ceremonies for the wedding party stepped forward hurriedly. "It is."
"We are subordinates of Prefect Sun, sent specifically to receive you."
Xiao Nanhui frowned. This man named Sun had some skill to have secured the title of Prefect.
The man paused, then continued, "Maids and women of the party, step forward for inspection."
The members of the procession were stunned. They looked at one another but dared not speak; the women stepped forward one by one.
Another man from the camel troop held the dowry register provided by the Tian family, confirming each person by name and head-count.
This man looked different from the others. He wore high-quality soft armor, and his saddle was inlaid with iridescent gemstones—a gaudy display of wealth. His thin, long face featured naturally yellowish wolf-like eyes and a hooked nose; he looked like a difficult character to deal with.
But that wasn't what caught Xiao Nanhui’s eye. The first thing she noticed was the long staff strapped to his back. It wasn't a typical martial artist's staff, but rather the shaft of a long spear unique to the Southwest. At a glance, it resembled an elongated *pingxian*.
The southwestern region of Jizhou was once home to nomadic hunting tribes with fierce, untamable customs. To prevent local uprisings, the rulers of that time decreed that households could not possess private weapons; even iron tools had to be registered with the local government.
However, for every regulation from above, the people had a counter-strategy. Moreover, it was not a peaceful land; even if one did not provoke others, there was no guarantee others would not attack. Because of roaming bandits, villagers would keep long poles in their homes and hammer iron hoes straight and sharp to create makeshift spearheads. In times of danger, they would assemble the pole and the head, instantly gaining a weapon for self-defense. This unique tradition of detachable spearheads and shafts had been passed down.
The man before her held a classic example of such a weapon. He was likely a bandit who had eventually found work with the Sun family. There were many such nomadic riders of similar origin nearby; they rarely stayed loyal to one master, swaying between factions depending on who held the upper hand. Currently, a large portion of the Sun and Bai forces likely consisted of such men. If that were the case, undermining them from within might not be entirely impossible.
Lost in thought, Xiao Nanhui looked up to find that the people ahead had already passed inspection. Seeing it would soon be her turn, she quickly lowered her head. She knew her stature was significantly taller than the others, and her gait differed from those untrained in martial arts. While an ordinary person might not notice, anyone with a bit of internal cultivation and a sharp eye would see through her. If she walked up normally, she would likely be exposed.
For some reason, in this moment of crisis, the first person who flashed through her mind was *him*.
During their first meeting at the Night Rain Inn, he had been hunched over, looking sickly—likely to disguise his frame and avoid drawing attention. Thinking of this, she tucked her neck in, slumped her shoulders, and turned her toes inward, shuffling forward in small, timid steps.
Finally, it was her turn. She felt a gaze linger on the top of her head; the surroundings seemed exceptionally quiet. After a moment, that cold voice rang out again: "You, lift your head."
Xiao Nanhui’s heart hammered against her ribs. She did her best to look dejected and timid as she fearfully raised her eyes.
During her month in Jizhou, living outdoors had darkened her skin. Before leaving, she had asked the Tian manor steward for half a bowl of ginger juice mixed with kudzu powder to smear on her face, making her naturally striking features look dull and lifeless. With the face cloth wrapped around her, she looked no different from a village girl from some remote hamlet.
The man on the camel scanned her with a licentious gaze, then suddenly laughed to the man beside him. "Look at this one."
Four or five thugs looked over simultaneously. They all froze for a moment, then curled their lips into strange, mocking smiles. "She really does look a bit like her."
Like? Like whom? What was so funny?
Xiao Nanhui’s curiosity was clawing at her insides, but she had to maintain her foolish facade. Finally, the man waved his hand, signaling her to move aside.
She breathed a sigh of relief and shuffled to the side.
After checking four or five more people, all the women and maids in the procession had been accounted for. Xiao Nanhui hid behind a camel’s haunches, peeking out to see Wu Xiaoliu in the other line. He was also stealing glances at her, his eyes filled with unease.
The man who had been speaking rubbed his nose and said nothing. He merely gave a look to his subordinates. A dozen men flipped off their camels and walked toward the remaining members of the wedding party.
Xiao Nanhui’s heart went cold.
This wasn't right. They were going to...
*Thud.* A muffled sound.
The master of ceremonies at the front of the line collapsed, clutching his throat. His scream was trapped in his windpipe, leaving only a broken, hissing sound.
The dozen riders threw back their cloaks in unison, drawing curved sabers from their waists. The fierce afternoon sun glinted off the blades, flashing a blinding white light.
Keep the women, kill the men.
The true style of bandits.
The rest of the procession finally realized what was happening and scattered, screaming in terror. Aside from the four sedan-bearers, the other servants were merely teenage boys. They didn't even have a piece of wood to defend themselves. In the blink of an eye, they lost their lives. A party of dozens was butchered like melons and vegetables in an instant.
Xiao Nanhui’s body was as tense as a drawn bow. Everyone around her was paralyzed with fear, and for a moment, no one noticed her. Her fists were clenched white, but in the end, she did not move an inch. She was likely the only person present who could save them, but she could not act. She was a soldier of Tiancheng; she had a mission to fulfill.
As the front ranks fell, Wu Xiaoliu, who was standing toward the back, managed a moment’s reprieve. In a panic, he dove into the bridal sedan. Finally, the last male servant brought by the Tian family fell. The lead rider swung his saber at the sedan’s shaft; the wood, thick as a man’s wrist, was instantly sheared through, and the entire sedan jolted.
"Boy inside, be sensible and come out yourself, lest your blood stains the carriage."
The bright red curtains of the sedan trembled, as if infected by the occupant's terror. But despite the fear, there was no sound from behind the fabric.
Seeing this, the leader sneered. He suddenly raised a leg and slammed it down hard on the sedan shaft. The carriage tilted forward violently. Two screams erupted from within, and in the next instant, Wu Xiaoliu and the bride, Tian Weier, tumbled out of the door.
Tian Weier landed on the sand, her wedding robes covered in dust and her hair ornaments scattered—a pathetic sight. Wu Xiaoliu fared no better; he looked up dizzily to find a gleaming curved saber hovering at his throat. The blood of the previous victim had not yet dried on the blade, and the stench of iron hit him full in the face.
It was a double-edged decapitation saber. With a flick of the man's wrist, his head would roll onto the sand like a ripe persimmon.
The sound of the swordsman’s knuckles cracking reached his ears. Wu Xiaoliu closed his eyes in despair.
"Master! Master, have mercy!"
A shrill, cracking scream came from behind, followed by a sudden force. The saber at Wu Xiaoliu’s neck grazed his chin as it was knocked aside, leaving a thin trail of blood.
The executioner looked down, stunned to find a pair of thin but powerful hands deathly gripped around his thigh. He couldn't react for a moment. Everyone else was equally shocked; no one in the camel troop had noticed how that village girl had reached the sedan in an instant.
Xiao Nanhui’s rational mind was screaming at her for her impulsiveness, but since she had already committed, there was no use in regret. She could only hope to bluff her way through.
The man struggled, kicking her hard to throw her off.
But Xiao Nanhui was using every ounce of her strength. The kick only sent her flying slightly before she snapped back like a rubber band, wailing, "Officer, have mercy! My family only has this one son! If he dies, our lineage will end!"
She spoke in perfect, authentic Suyan dialect. The men present didn't doubt her identity; they merely saw her as a meddlesome, foolish girl and looked on with mockery.
As soon as she finished speaking, she felt the cold blade shift to her own neck.
"End the lineage? It’s not that complicated. I’ll just end your lives together, and there won't be any more trouble."
Xiao Nanhui glared at Wu Xiaoliu, who was looking at her piteously. Her mind raced.
If she fought now, all her plans would fail. A golden opportunity would be buried right before her eyes, and she couldn't bear it. But if she watched Wu Xiaoliu die, her conscience would never be at peace. After all, she had only made it this far because of him, and he had been dragged into this wedding party because of her.
Xiao Zhun often taught her one thing: in this life, one must live with a clear conscience.
She always remembered this. Though she had killed many on the battlefield and possessed the skill to take a life in an instant, she never abused her power and could not stand by while an innocent died. Unfortunately, she was a terrible actress; this entire performance was something she had cobbled together from old plays. How was she going to end this?
In this situation, perhaps only one person could save them.
Xiao Nanhui forced herself to ignore the large blade waving in front of her throat and suddenly pointed the finger at the bride, who was trying to crawl back into the sedan.
"Miss! You can't ignore Xiaoliu! He’s the child of your aunt’s second cousin’s third daughter-in-law! You can't just let him die..."
Tian Weier was a girl who had rarely seen such violence. She was already scared out of her wits. She turned her head tremblingly, looked at Wu Xiaoliu’s chubby face, and for the life of her, could not remember such a person.
With this brief moment of respite, Wu Xiaoliu’s survival instinct finally exploded. He grabbed the hem of Tian Weier’s skirt, looking aggrieved. "Miss, don't you remember when I used to help you climb over the wall to buy cakes? When the Master caught us, my leg was nearly broken! To serve you this time, I even left my new wife at home. You promised me I’d get silver, so I followed. Now, not only is there no silver, but my life is almost gone! You can't do this to me..."
Now, not only was Tian Weier stunned, but even Xiao Nanhui was speechless.
Wu Xiaoliu was truly a natural-born scoundrel. This string of lies came to him so easily, without a single stutter. He must have done this many times before.
The thug holding the saber was caught in an awkward position. On one hand, he wasn't sure what the fat servant and the Tian daughter were up to; on the other, he was loath to let the man go so easily.
The mood of the crowd had been broken by this sudden farce, and they stood in a stalemate.
Xiao Nanhui’s heart was in her throat. Life and death hung on a single thought, and she silently prayed that the invisible scales would tip in her favor.
Just then, a faint sound drifted through the quiet, dry air.
It was the sound of a cough.
A cough wasn't strange, but what was strange was that the sound came from very far away. And that "far away" seemed to be above their heads.
The leader holding the register was the first to notice. His sharp gaze swept over the towering cliffs on either side. However, they were empty; not a soul was in sight. He felt a moment of confusion. Those cliffs were so steep that even a monkey would struggle to climb them. How could someone come and go so easily?
Perhaps he had misheard?
But it served as a reminder. These were turbulent times, and it was best to avoid unnecessary complications. They had lingered here too long.
Thinking of this, he suddenly called out, "A-Qi, Miss Tian will belong to the Prefect from now on. Even if you don't respect the monk, respect the Buddha. Don't make things look too ugly."
His words were part sincere and part mocking, laced with a deep-seated contempt.
Thinking of the empty manors in East Suyan, one could guess how many girls like Tian Weier had been lost to this desert, sacrificed to the Sun family in West Suyan where there was meat to eat and wine to drink.
One more or one less made no difference.
The man named A-Qi finally received his orders. As if granting a great mercy, he pulled the blade away from Xiao Nanhui’s neck, wiped the blood on his hem, and returned it to his waist. He gave the three cowering figures a dark look before turning to mount his camel.
Xiao Nanhui let out a long, undisguised breath of relief. She pulled the limp Wu Xiaoliu off the ground and stumbled back into the line. Tian Weier was hoisted onto a camel by two riders.
Aside from the wagons of gold and silver dowry, the horses and sedans from the original caravan were left behind, abandoned with the red bridal sedan and the blood-soaked corpses. It was a scene of unspeakable desolation.
As they entered the massive shadow of Sanmu Pass, Xiao Nanhui instinctively looked back. She wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but she thought she saw two figures standing on the shoulders of the giant divine statue, watching them.
A gust of wind rose, scattering sand into the air. When the dust cleared and she squinted to look again, the statue stood solitary as before. There were no figures to be seen.
Her eyes must have played tricks on her.
Xiao Nanhui wrapped her head cloth tighter and hurried after the procession, heading deep into Bijiang.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 宿岩 | Suyan | The name of the city/region (divided into East and West). |
| 三目关 | Sanmu Pass | "Three-Eyed Pass," a strategic canyon gateway. |
| 碧疆 | Bijiang | The broader border region where the story takes place. |
| 天沐河 | Tianmu River | A river that once separated the two halves of Suyan. |
| 岭西戈壁 | Lingxi Gobi | The desert region near the pass. |
| 肖准 | Xiao Zhun | A character from Xiao Nanhui's past (likely her father or commander). |
| 孙太守 | Prefect Sun | The ruler/official of West Suyan. |
| 平弦 | Pingxian | A type of long staff or musical instrument reference used to describe the spear shaft. |
| 阿齐 | A-Qi | One of the Sun family's riders/thugs. |
| 田薇儿 | Tian Weier | The daughter of the Tian family, the bride. |
