At the snowy entrance of Xi Wang village, the ground had turned to muddy slush. Hooves and boots were hemmed in by cloth shoes and padded soles.
A detachment of fewer than twenty—mounted soldiers mixed with constables—was surrounded on all sides by villagers. Their horses snorted nervously, stamping the earth.
"Back off! Clear the way! Where's the headman?" Two constables drew their blades to force space. Only then did they spot the headman, squeezed at the rear.
The old man stammered an account of the morning's events, villagers butting in, each insisting they'd seen some detail the others had missed.
At first the officials dismissed it. But when they heard that Qingshui had unleashed "witchcraft," transformed into a "demon," collapsed a house and flung villagers flying—their jaws dropped wider and wider.
The villagers, seeing their disbelief, shouted louder, demanding they come see with their own eyes. The soldiers reluctantly followed into the village.
There, at the ruins of a house, several grievously wounded still lay groaning beneath patched quilts. The officials gaped in silence.
Others, only lightly injured, hobbled up, showing bloody clothes, clamoring for the fugitives' capture—else how could they sleep safely?
"A single stomp and it fell?"
"What kind of force can fling men like that?"
The mounting evidence rattled the soldiers' worldview. At last, the cavalry officer muttered:
"Enough. We return to Taoyuan. This is beyond our reach. We'll report exactly as seen…"
"Two women and a child, they said… how did it come to this?"
Not far away, among sparse winter trees, Mu Wanhua and her companions pressed on. The village had vanished behind them; only bare trunks and glittering snow lay ahead.
"Rest a while," Qingshui said at last. "For now, it should be safe."
Wanhua immediately tore open her cloak, checking the wound at Qingshui's shoulder. Layne scanned the woods, alert.
The bandages were soaked crimson. The whole shoulder was a mass of raw red.
Wanhua reached for the waterskin.
"Don't waste water. The wound's split, not muddied."
Qingshui settled cross-legged, beckoning Layne. The boy hurried behind, palms against her back, channeling qi.
"Sprinkle some powder. That's enough. We don't know how long we'll be in hiding. Food and water must last."
Wanhua looked down at their meager supplies: a few cakes, some dried meat, two skins of water—barely two or three days if rationed.
She whispered, "We left Mu Yun only two days ago. How could the warrant already spread here?"
Qingshui's eyes stayed closed. "Shuidui fought Xuánhǔ, then spread word through the villages. Xi Wang's the closest to Lì Prefecture. Two days—no surprise. And people like us hold sway. A mere headman, petty officials—they obey without question."
Her voice grew grave.
"But that may be a blessing… if…"
"If what?" Wanhua pressed.
The wind shook snow and ice from branches, stinging their faces.
Qingshui drew out a black token—the transmission seal left by the Sixth Attendant, Xuánhǔ's sigil.
Wanhua's eyes lit—until Qingshui's words doused her like icy water.
"If Xuánhǔ, a mere county lord, can pass orders this way—what of the provincial capitals? What of the royal city?"
"Wanhua, the kingdom is not so simple. You think orders travel by couriers and riders? No. The capital has the Skywatch Bureau. From there, commands reach three provinces in an hour."
"In each provincial city, sorcerers echo the message with tokens like this, down to the county. Another hour."
"Only then do riders carry it to villages. In this way, the King's word reaches the furthest hamlet in less than a day."
She opened her eyes, grim.
"Such methods are costly, reserved for war or dire emergencies. But the Chancellor must see you as worth a war. The moment he heard we escaped, he invoked the Bureau."
Wanhua's scalp prickled. To be hunted with such urgency—no wings could carry them far enough. But her gaze fell on the token in Qingshui's hand, and hope stirred.
"Use it! Call Xuánhǔ's people—let them hide us—"
Qingshui scoffed, tucking the seal into her robe. Wanhua's eyes followed, bewildered.
"This token is a last resort, not a wishing bell to shake whenever we're in trouble. Life's safest in our own hands."
"Besides… Xuánhǔ doesn't help for free. He'll have designs of his own."
Wanhua steadied herself, clenched her jaw. She pointed at the bundle.
"Food and water can last three days. In that time you must heal enough to move freely. And we must find a village or town for supplies."
Qingshui's lips curved in approval.
"Now that's the Bihua I remember—the matron of Mu Yun. No, Mu Wanhua."
She said the name deliberately. Wanhua ignored it, only tightened the pack and looked her in the eye.
"What's your plan?"
Qingshui tilted her head to the sky.
"Taoyuan Town. It's the nearest. I heard the soldiers mention it."
Wanhua blanched. "Are you mad? They'll be on high alert!"
"Exactly. Which is why you won't go. I will."
At her confusion, Qingshui softened her voice.
"You forget who I am? I served the Water Envoy. Disguise, infiltration—these are what I do best."
Wanhua's breath caught, hope trembling in her hands as she clutched the pack.
Qingshui turned back to Layne, letting his qi knit her shoulder.
"Two days. I'll recover. Then we creep close enough for me to slip in. I'll secure clothes, rouge, whatever I need. With that, I can bring you both safely inside Taoyuan."
Sunlight spilled through bare branches, stretching long shadows across the snow—like a forest of blades, cruel and beautiful.