Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The night wind whistled fiercer the higher the carriage soared, accompanied by the creaking protests of its aging wood. Flushed with excitement, Chen Shu cracked her whip several more times.

Only faintly did she hear, carried on the wind through the rattling carriage, a voice calling her from behind. Without looking back, she knew it was Yun Shen — fragmented and insistent, sharpened not by fury but by a vexation bordering on panic.

Chen Shu held the whip with one hand and the reins with the other. Without looking back, she shouted into the night sky, “Speak louder—I can’t hear you!”

The carriage window promptly slid open with a sharp crack, followed by Yun Shen’s clearer, angry voice echoing through the night:

“…Must you act without ever considering the consequences or consulting others?”

“But I already consulted you just now!” Chen Shu called over her shoulder. “You said you can’t scale walls nor tread on clouds. Well, surely you can sit in a carriage!”

“This carriage bucks so violently it nearly tosses me out! I hardly call that sitting!” Yun Shen retorted immediately.

Chen Shu finally turned to offer a dismissive reassurance: “Aiyo, we’re hastening! Just endure it! If it’s truly unbearable, I’ll set you down when we arrive!”

“‘Arrive’?” Yun Shen scoffed, ignoring her placating tone. “You say ‘when we arrive.’ Tell me—do you know where these mounted bandits came from? Where they fled? Where they camp tonight?”

“I don’t,” Chen Shu answered truthfully, cracking the whip before adding, “Do you know?”

The horses surged skyward again, nearly flinging Yun Shen from the window. He gripped it fiercely, stabilizing himself with gritted teeth. When his eyes met Chen Shu’s sly, sidelong glance, his expression shifted between outrage and reluctant amusement before he suppressed his temper and muttered,

“You don’t know, so naturally I don’t. But if you truly had no clue, why didn’t you ask earlier?”

“You don’t know. I don’t. How would that mere waiter know?” Chen Shu shot back, looking incredulous at needing to explain. “At best, he’d tell us whether the bandits fled east or west—which we could discern from wheel tracks anyway. Why bother asking?”

“Knowing only the direction, how do you plan to capture them?” Yun Shen demanded, fingers white on the window frame. “Do you intend to search the endless mountains for days and nights?”

Chen Shu just flashed him a grin instead of answering. Her eyes sparkled as wind billowed through her sleeves and whipped her long hair, lending her an ethereal air—as though descended from the heavens—that dazed Yun Shen for a split second. But he snapped back to reality at her next whip crack. Laughter coloring her voice, she drawled, “Ah, here’s what you don’t realize: Though the peaks twist and sprawl everywhere, only one road cut through Zhanglin from west to east allows riding horses if you track them down.”

“…You know this terrain well,” Yun Shen said after a long pause. “Studied a map?”

Gusts flung her hair into her face, obscuring half of it, but she only shouted unbothered into the wind:

“You think my daily mountain patrol duties were just for show?”

Finally turning around, she jabbed her whip toward the galloping horses and scolded cheerfully:

“What’s with the eavesdropping? Eyes on the road!” The reprimand made the steely-natured stallions perk their ears—almost sheepishly—before fixing their gaze forward again.

In a flash, their carriage tore past Zhanglin Village, launching into the starless, mountainous abyss. At first, Yun Shen’s shouts sliced through the wind—calls to “Slow down!” or “Watch out!”—until the rattling carriage window slammed shut under its force, muffling his protests inside. Gradually, as Chen Shu drove gleefully—ascending near the clouds, plummeting earthward, and skimming jagged cliffs in perilous swoops—he stopped complaining altogether.

Moments later, the carriage finally slowed. Chen Shu leaned forward and called “Brother Yun!” Hearing no reply, she twisted around to thump the carriage with loud raps.

“What now!?” Yun Shen yelled at last.

“Come see!” Chen Shu urged excitedly, jostling the carriage with another slap of her hand against its frame. “There! See?”

Through the sea of ink-black mountains, where forests clung like patches of moss, a winding road slashed across the landscape like a blade’s edge, nearly severing the massif. At its roadside, flickering campfire flames blazed unnervingly bright—a glaring dash of white against the dark panorama—snatching attention from leagues away.

Ironically, these mounted bandits had fled just one mountaintop before recklessly setting up camp amid the desolate wilderness. Sparsely populated, they feared neither travelers nor pursuers and dared light a fire by the roadside.

Chen Shu pointed eagerly at the flames and gestured to Yun Shen:

“Let’s charge down and send them fleeing in terror!”

“Absolutely not,” Yun Shen immediately dismissed. “We mustn’t rouse suspicion. Losing stolen goods is minor, but injuring anyone would invite disaster with the authorities—”

Chen Shu, meanwhile, sat cross-legged at the front of the carriage, face puffed like a sulking child’s. Her silence was palpable refusal: unconvinced and unimpressed.

Yun Shen cut himself off. Seeing her obstinate scowl, he paused a moment before revising his approach:

“…But if you’re truly daring, I’d see whether you can capture each and every bandit without alerting them.”

The words electrified Chen Shu. She leapt to her feet again, gaze blazing. Snapping the whip with a grin, she declared:

“Oh, you just watch me!

The fire crackled. Two skewers of haphazardly roasted meat—scavenged from some unknown source—dripped oil onto the flames, making them leap higher. They illuminated the faces of several bandits circled beneath the night. Someone audibly swallowed—the wet smack echoing sharply in the stillness.

At the treeline, several prized horses, tethered nearby, pawed uneasily at the grass.

The big brother, who was grilling meat without even lifting his head, kicked the third brother beside him and scolded, “Useless, didn’t I give you a skewer just now? So greedy for a little meat—watch out for startling the horses.”

“It wasn’t me!” the third brother cried out in protest. “Brother, I’m stuffed; if I made a sound, it’d be a burp…”

“Keep lying,” the big brother said while flipping the meat. “If I didn’t know you’re always starving like a hungry ghost, I might’ve been fooled.”

Unexpectedly, before he finished speaking, another slurping sound came, immediately followed by an unfamiliar voice that was quite sincere: “It really wasn’t him; it was me. That meat you’re grilling smells amazing—is it delicious?”

“Of course—” Even the big brother sensed something odd now and lifted his head.

He saw a figure quietly standing by the roadside in the dark night, unarmed, with only a carriage behind her. On closer glance, the newcomer was a young girl, her long hair messy and a horsewhip for driving hung at her waist. She had likely just passed by, stopped the carriage, and walked two steps toward the roadside.

The leader of the mounted bandits faked a smile and said, “Well, where’d this little girl come from? Hungry? Get your master in the carriage to buy you some. We’re guarding delivery business; grown-up matters are no concern for children.”

Chen Shu wasn’t afraid of him at all. She walked closer and pointed at the grilling meat, saying, “Haven’t you got two skewers? You take one, and he’s already had one—leaves one spare, right? Why not share that one with me?”

“What do you know, little girl?” the third brother said, waving his bare gnawed skewer to shoo her away. “Buzz off; this is for our lookout brother.”

“Indeed,” the big brother added soothingly. “We’re from a central plains escort service on vital duty. A little girl shouldn’t bother with what she doesn’t understand. Hurry back and drive your carriage—your master must be waiting anxiously.”

“You’re both mistaken; there’s no master of mine in that carriage,” Chen Shu said, flashing him a sweet smile. “It’s your lookout brother—I’ve caught him already. I’d suggest you hand over that skewer for a bite instead. For the meal’s sake, though you’re heinous bandits, I’ll go easier on you!”

Without a beat, the third brother sneered, “How insolent you talk, girl! Us three brothers have robbed from south to north without ever failing—”

“We three brothers have escorted goods from south to north without ever failing,” the big brother cut him off. “Our second brother just went on guard duty against road bandits; he’ll be back any moment. You’re accusing good people wrongly, miss.”

“Wrongly?” Chen Shu recalled her daytime ordeal and grew upset. “How am I wrong? Forget that your second brother confessed everything—look at you two, camping out late at night with more horses than luggage. What escort service guards like that—”

Before she finished, the two mounted bandits attacked. The big brother used the meat skewer to flick at the campfire, and the third brother kicked it afterward. Sparks cascaded onto Chen Shu’s feet, igniting the dry grass there within a few breaths.

Flames roared up, swiftly climbing half a person’s height and nearly engulfing Chen Shu whole.

“Why are you still lagging?” the big brother yelled, grabbing the curved blade at his feet. “Hurry and pack your things—we’re running!”

His words proved useless this time. After he spat them out, the third brother remained motionless, trembling in terror. The big brother followed his gaze—and froze utterly on seeing it.

Raging flames wreathed around Chen Shu, burning fiercer with the wind, but she stood unharmed at the spot, cheeks flushed, long sleeves billowing. Against the vast night, she seemed strangely, grotesquely beautiful; fire seemed to blaze in her eyes, but it was pure rage.

“How overdone,” she muttered, wounded. She stepped forward and yanked a burning-red stick straight from the flames. With a casual swing, she clubbed it down onto the head of the third brother before her.

Fire leaped from the stick onto his collar, and the third brother howled instantly from the scalding. Chen Shu didn’t relent; she struck again savagely, dislocating part of his arm. He collapsed onto the grassy slope, shrieking as he frantically rolled to douse the flames on him.

She tilted her head and studied the third brother for a moment, then snorted lightly as if finally venting her fury. Patting the stick in her hand, she turned to face the big brother.

“Why haven’t you knelt yet begging for mercy?” she asked curiously. “Don’t you care to live?”