Subtitle: The Gu Has Sealed Our Fate
In the desperate flight through the mist, a bond deeper than alliance was forged—of shared breath, shared pain, a fate neither could escape.
The night was profound, a suffocating blanket of silence thrown over Returning Clouds Manor, heavier and more ominous than the vast, empty snowfields of the Northern Frontier.
Shen Yuzhu slumped against the icy stone wall, his ragged, rapid breaths unnervingly loud in the confined secret chamber. Cold sweat beaded his brow; his lips were so bloodless they blurred into the pallor of his face. Only the unwiped trail of blood at the corner of his mouth—shimmering with a sinister blue luminescence—provided a violent splash of color.
The burning ache from the Life-Sigil on Chu Hongying's arm refused to fade. This was not her pain, but a vivid, invasive echo of the同心蛊 (Tong Xin Gu - Heart-Linked Gu) poison ravaging Shen Yuzhu's system—a trespass into her veins. For the first time, she was "feeling" another's agony so physically—a strange, violating sensation that clenched her stomach, yet was impossible to sever. Her pulse faltered—the boundary between self and other collapsed.
"Ugh…" Shen Yuzhu twisted his head, another mouthful of shimmering blue light spattering onto the plain white handkerchief, spreading rapidly.
Lu Wanning, having just sheathed her silver needles, looked grim. "The Gu poison and the Life-Sigils are amplifying each other, invading the heart meridians," she stated, her voice tight. "We must find an antidote or a method of suppression immediately. Otherwise…" Her unspoken words hung in the air, dense and threatening.
Gu Changfeng's form burst into the chamber like a sudden gale, all traces of his usual levity replaced by a honed sharpness. "'The Shadows' are moving. The manor is surrounded." His voice was a low, urgent press, each word a hammer blow. "If we don't leave now, this place will be our tomb by daybreak."
As if summoned by his declaration, a mournful, piercing horn cry sliced through the thick fog from beyond the manor walls, laden with icy killing intent.
Chu Hongying turned. There was no hesitation in the motion. She snatched her Lie Feng silver spear from the table with one hand, while her other arm was already hooking under Shen Yuzhu's nearly limp shoulders.
"I'll break through to the west with him," she announced, her voice devoid of inflection as her gaze swept over Gu Changfeng and Lu Wanning. "You two, take the secret passage. Rendezvous at the old place in the western outskirts."
"You can't go alone—" Lu Wanning started, urgency pitching her voice.
"A larger group is a bigger target," Chu Hongying cut her off, already maneuvering Shen Yuzhu's weight. "His life is tied to mine now." Her eyes flicked to the faintly glowing sigil on her arm. "This Gu mark… might also be our only path to survival."
Shen Yuzhu tried to speak, but was consumed by another wave of violent coughs, capable only of leaning his dead weight against her. Offering no further discussion, Chu Hongying tightened her grip, and like a wraith, they vanished through the chamber's rear window, swallowed by the hungry night.
The dense forest of the western outskirts was a labyrinth of shadows, the night fog a tangible, choking presence.
Chu Hongying held the reins in a firm grip, her other arm locked like a vice around Shen Yuzhu's waist. He was a dead weight against her, his consciousness ebbing and flowing on a tide of pain and cold. His icy body temperature seeped through their clothes, a stark contrast to the burning, rhythmic pulse of the Life-Sigil on her arm.
The wind whipped past—sharp as honed steel. The silhouettes of trees blurred into a rushing darkness.— She could feel it—the frantic, syncopated drumming of both their hearts, beating a desperate, shared rhythm against her own. For the first time, fear was not hers alone.
"Hongying…" The name was a wisp of air, a ghost of sound from the man in her arms. "He wants the Gate, not its people…"
Chu Hongying's arm around him constricted instinctively, pulling him deeper into the scant shelter of her cloak and body. She stared ahead into the impenetrable murk, her voice low, yet carving through the wind's roar:
"Don't worry." The words were flat, absolute. "This General doesn't guard doors for others."
A faint, almost imperceptible shudder of laughter escaped him. "That sentence… is enough… to let me live… one more night…"
Chu Hongying didn't answer. A sharp jerk of the reins was her only reply. The horse beneath them screamed and surged forward, hooves pounded in a thunderous retreat, striving to outrun every pursuit, every watching eye—and the wild, resonant beat in her chest his words had unleashed.
The whistle of cutting air came from the left—sudden, lethal.
Dark figures, phantoms from the tree line, converged. Steel flashed, cold and intent, aiming unerringly for Shen Yuzhu on the horse.
Chu Hongying's eyes narrowed to slits. The Lie Feng spear was already a blur of motion, its tip tearing through the night with the Northern Frontier's brutal grace, deflecting the first sweeping blade. Simultaneously, she felt the body against hers go rigid.
From some hidden reserve, Shen Yuzhu summoned a shred of strength. His fingertips glinted, and several golden needles flew—not toward the enemies, but to find their marks in acupoints along Chu Hongying's spear arm.
A surge of warming power flooded from the points into her limb, lending her already fierce technique a new, terrifying ferocity.
"You—" Her mind recoiled at the sensation.
"Sealing points… borrowing strength…" His voice was a shattered thing, thick with suppressed agony.
And in that moment—as he forced his waning energy and she fought with everything she had—the eerie light from the Life-Sigils on their arm and back erupted once more, uncontrollably. A wave of bluish light bloomed from them, an invisible shockwave rippling outwards, washing over the closing assassins. It was both salvation and curse, a light that burned them to live.
The "Shadows" touched by the light faltered mid-action, as if an unseen hand had seized their throats, their eyes widening with a flicker of primal fear and disorientation.
The hesitation was fleeting, but it was enough. The Lie Feng spear became a silver river dragon, its power overwhelming, hurling the two closest attackers backwards into the dark.
From the distance, a firework signal screeched into the sky, bursting in a momentary, brilliant flower of light. Almost instantly, a thick, white smoke began to boil up from another part of the forest, spreading rapidly—Lu Wanning's smoke screen.
In the heart of the chaos, Chu Hongying leaned close, her voice a low, gritted promise against Shen Yuzhu's ear:
"If you die here, I'll bury the whole capital with you."
His breath rattled shallowly, yet a ghost of a smile touched his lips.
"Then I'll live," he murmured, "until that day comes."
The horse carried them onward into the swallowing fog, leaving behind only the echo of fading hooves—and the stubborn, shared heartbeat that refused to fall silent.