The night was a sea of darkness, the storm its merciless tide. Rain pounded the earth, washing away footprints as quickly as they were made. The cold bit into flesh, seeping into weary bones. Yet despite the brutal weather, Jiang Feng and the woman pressed forward, their bodies moving as one through the tangled forest.
Behind them, shadows gave chase.
Jiang Feng could hear their pursuers closing in—the swift, disciplined steps of trained killers. Even over the roar of the storm, he caught snippets of their voices.
"She couldn't have gotten far!"
"The storm is covering their tracks—damn it! Spread out!"
They were buying time, but not much.
Jiang Feng's grip on the woman tightened as he guided her through the underbrush. He could feel the unsteadiness in her steps, the weakness in her limbs. She was pushing herself past her limit.
"You're slowing down," he murmured, voice barely audible over the rain.
She shot him a glare, her dark eyes flashing. "Then leave me behind."
He almost laughed at the audacity of it. "I didn't carry you this far just to throw you away."
She gritted her teeth but said nothing. Stubborn. He admired that, even as it annoyed him.
Ahead, the forest thinned, revealing a sloping ravine. The rain had turned the descent into a treacherous slide of mud and loose rock. To the right, the land stretched toward the misty horizon, vanishing into a shadowed valley. To the left, dense thickets blocked the way. There was no easy path forward.
Jiang Feng turned to the woman. "Can you still fight?"
She exhaled sharply, clutching her wounded side. "If I have to."
Her determination was admirable, but he could see the way her fingers trembled. She was still too weak.
Jiang Feng unsheathed his sword with a quiet shing. The cold gleam of steel cut through the darkness. He turned back toward the path they had come from, listening. The assassins were close now, their movements quick and practiced.
Five of them. No, six.
He frowned. If they had caught up so quickly, that meant…
"They aren't just chasing us," he muttered. "They're herding us."
The woman's expression darkened. "They're trying to corner us."
A sharp whistle pierced the air—some kind of signal. A second later, figures emerged from the trees, dressed in dark robes, their faces hidden beneath masks. Each held a weapon—curved blades glinting under the lightning's glow.
Jiang Feng counted six. More would come soon.
He sighed, rolling his shoulders. "I was hoping to avoid this."
One of the assassins stepped forward, his stance relaxed yet deadly. His voice carried easily through the rain.
"Hand over the girl. This doesn't concern you, stranger."
Jiang Feng tilted his head. "Funny. From where I'm standing, you're the ones in my way."
The assassin let out a low chuckle. "A noble fool, then. Pity."
With a flicker of movement, he lunged.
Jiang Feng met him mid-strike, steel ringing against steel. Sparks scattered as their blades clashed, their movements blindingly fast despite the storm.
The assassin was skilled—his strikes precise, efficient. But Jiang Feng was faster.
A twist of the wrist, a shift in footwork—before the assassin could react, Jiang Feng's blade slipped past his guard. The sharp edge carved a clean line across his opponent's throat.
Blood mixed with rain. The assassin crumpled.
For a brief moment, silence hung heavy in the air.
Then the storm roared, and the others attacked.
Jiang Feng moved like flowing water, his sword an extension of his will. Every step, every strike, was measured. Another enemy fell. Then another.
But there were too many.
A blade slashed toward his back. He spun just in time to parry, but another attacker closed in from the side—too fast to dodge.
And then—
A flash of silver.
The woman moved.
Despite her injuries, she lunged forward, her dagger slicing across the attacker's throat. The man staggered, blood spilling into the rain.
Jiang Feng blinked. He hadn't expected her to move so decisively.
She met his gaze, breathless but steady. "You talk too much."
He smirked. "You fight well for someone on the brink of collapse."
She huffed but didn't argue.
More shadows approached from the trees. They had seconds before they were overwhelmed.
Jiang Feng glanced at the ravine. The slope was steep, the rocks jagged. But it was their only way out.
He turned to the woman. "Can you trust me?"
She hesitated. "What—"
He didn't wait. He grabbed her waist and leapt.
The ground disappeared beneath them.
For a moment, they were weightless, falling through the storm. Then they hit the slope, tumbling down the muddy incline. Rocks tore at their clothes, water blinded their vision. The world spun wildly.
Then, finally—solid ground.
Jiang Feng groaned, pushing himself up. The woman lay beside him, coughing as she tried to catch her breath.
Above them, the assassins peered over the edge, hesitant to follow.
Jiang Feng smirked. Cowards.
The woman sat up slowly, brushing mud from her face. "Next time, warn me before you do something insane."
"No promises." He offered her a hand. "Can you stand?"
She took it, pulling herself up with a wince. "I've had worse."
Jiang Feng arched a brow. "You have a habit of getting chased by assassins?"
She gave him a look. "Who are you, exactly?"
He hesitated. "Someone looking for answers."
She studied him, her gaze sharp. "And you think I have them."
He nodded. "You have the jade lotus mark. That means something."
Her expression darkened. "That mark has brought me nothing but death."
Jiang Feng frowned. There was more to her story. But before he could ask, she turned away.
"We need to keep moving," she said. "They'll find another way down soon."
She was right. They weren't safe yet.
As they disappeared into the valley's shadows, Jiang Feng knew one thing for certain—this woman was at the heart of everything.
And whether she realized it or not, their fates were now entwined.