“...Cut the main rope!” Arrows rained down from the river, thudding into the wooden planks of the bridge. The hemp ropes snapped one after another, and the bridge tilted precariously, as if about to topple. Yue Tingzhou's left arm was already useless, the poison spreading up his shoulder, blurring his vision. He bit his tongue, the metallic taste of blood mixed with the cloying medicinal scent flooding his senses, barely making out the dark figure rushing towards him from the other side— Huo Qingya's clawed gloves glowed with a faint blue light under the moonlight, the distance less than thirty paces. Zhu Hanli didn't respond to the "Don't worry about me." Instead, she hooked her arm around Yue Tingzhou's right arm, supporting him, and clenched the Wandering Light Dividing Blade tightly in her other hand. The blade hummed in the night, seven cold, silver afterimages shimmering from the edge, like seven pear blossom petals scattered by the wind. "Hold on tight." Her voice was soft, so quiet that it was almost swallowed by the river breeze. But the hand holding the blade was tighter, so tight that Yue Tingzhou could feel the tremor of her internal energy—a sign of its peak exertion. Huo Qingya swept across the bridge on the rope. Behind him were twelve elite soldiers from the Tianming Sect, their black night clothes billowing in the wind like a flock of vultures soaring over the river. The soldier in the lead had already raised his crossbow, the arrow pointed directly at Zhu Hanli's forehead. "Surrender now," Huo Qingya said, his voice like ice scraping against metal. "Or face death." Yue Tingzhou wanted to draw his sword. But as soon as his right arm moved, the poison surged along his meridians, making the entire arm feel like it was filled with mercury. He looked down and saw that the skin on the fingers of his left hand was already turning a sickly gray, and black blood was seeping from under his fingernails. It was over. Just as that thought crossed his mind, Zhu Hanli moved. She didn't retreat, but instead stepped forward half a pace. The seven afterimages of the Wandering Light Dividing Blade exploded simultaneously, the silver light like shattered ice crystals, so blinding. The first afterimage slashed towards the crossbowman, the second aimed at Huo Qingya's wrist, the third swept across the incoming arrow rain—the remaining four were all embedded in the eight main ropes of the bridge. Not cutting. Twisting. The moment the silver light touched the hemp ropes, Zhu Hanli gasped, a trickle of blood appearing at the corner of her mouth. She forcibly reversed her internal energy, twisting the blade's intended cutting path into a twisting rope, the seven afterimages like seven living silver snakes, clamping down on the knots. Huo Qingya's expression changed. He recognized the technique—a "River-Locking Technique" from the Wandering Light Sect, transforming a blade into a rope, using internal energy as a winch, specifically designed to break large mechanical hinges. The price was reversed meridians, leading to either a setback in cultivation or, in severe cases, a shattered dantian. "Are you crazy?!" Before the words were out, Zhu Hanli had already pulled Yue Tingzhou backward. Not jumping, but falling. Her entire body was like a kite with its string cut, carrying Yue Tingzhou as she fell backward onto the bridge deck, and at the same time, her left hand pulled sharply— "Break!" The seven afterimages tightened simultaneously. *Snap*. The first main rope broke. The bridge lurched violently, the bridge planks rising, and the Zhu family's boats on the river were pushed sideways by the waves. The second, the third... the snapping sounds merged into a continuous roar, like firecrackers on New Year's Eve. The elite soldiers rushing across the bridge lost their footing and fell into the river, screaming, the spray reaching three feet high. Huo Qingya leaped in the last moment, hooking the remaining half of the broken rope with his clawed gloves, suspending himself in mid-air. He stared at Zhu Hanli, his eyes showing something other than the usual coldness—shock, and a faint, almost imperceptible hint of apprehension. "You will regret this," he said. Zhu Hanli ignored him. She pulled Yue Tingzhou, using her remaining internal energy, and stepped on the rolling, broken bridge planks. One step, two steps, three steps—the planks shattered under her feet into wood shavings, but the momentum she gained was enough. The two of them, like two leaves blown by the wind, flew diagonally towards the muddy bank on the other side. When The momentum she gained was enough. The two of them, like two leaves blown by the wind, flew diagonally towards the muddy bank on the other side. When It was faint, like the glow of fireflies on a summer night. But the moment Yue Tingzhou saw that light, his spine chilled—it was the positioning light of the Tianming Book Spirit Mirror. The light point hovered in the air for a moment, then slowly moved, like an invisible eye scanning the riverbank. Finally, the light point stopped above the canopy of trees above them. Zhu Hanli looked up. The branches and leaves of the old pear tree swayed in the night wind, and the faint blue light filtered through the gaps, casting fragmented patterns of light on her face. She didn't speak, but simply tightened her grip on Yue Tingzhou's hand, her fingernails almost piercing the skin of his arm. "Let's get out of here," she said softly, her tone returning to her usual calm, but Yue Tingzhou heard a hint of tension in her voice. The two of them supported each other, stumbling into the dense forest behind the mudflat. The old pear tree was left behind, but the blue light from the spirit mirror was like a ghost clinging to their backs, impossible to shake off. Yue Tingzhou glanced back and saw the light point slowly descending, finally stopping at the spot where they had just landed. Xie Wuchen had already locked onto their coordinates. The pursuit that followed would be ten times more intense than tonight. There were no paths in the dense forest. Zhu Hanli, relying on her memory, walked east, where there was a hunter's abandoned cabin, which could provide temporary shelter. Yue Tingzhou followed her, each step causing a throbbing pain in his left shoulder. Although the toxin hadn't spread, the skin around the wound was already swollen, and hard lumps could be felt through his clothes. "We need to treat the wound," Zhu Hanli suddenly said. "Wait until we get there..." "Now," she interrupted him, her tone leaving no room for argument. "The poison from the Frost Falcon's claws will corrode your bones. If we wait until tomorrow, your hand will be useless." She stopped in a clearing in the forest and found a relatively flat stone for Yue Tingzhou to sit on. Then, she took out a lighter from her pocket and lit a small pile of dry branches. The flames flared up, illuminating her face, stained with blood and dust. She reached into a small porcelain bottle attached to her clothes, unscrewed the stopper, and poured out a small amount of pale blue paste. "Pull up your sleeve," she said. Yue Tingzhou hesitated. Zhu Hanli didn't urge him, she just looked at him. The flames danced in her eyes, reflecting a kind of almost judgmental calmness. He knew what she was waiting for—she was waiting for him to reveal the wound, for the brand hidden beneath his clothes to be exposed to the light. He took a deep breath and pulled down the fabric of his left shoulder. The fabric stuck to the wound, and when it was torn, it brought off a layer of skin, and blood gushed out. But Zhu Hanli didn't look at the blood; her gaze was fixed on the spot three inches below Yue Tingzhou's shoulder—where a palm-sized dark red mark was branded, the pattern was the unique emblem of the Henglu Division: a sword piercing through a scroll, with a chain wrapped around the hilt. The brand was already old, with blurred edges, but the pattern was clearly visible. It was a permanent mark branded during the induction of undercover agents, impossible to wash off or smooth out, unless the flesh was carved away. Zhu Hanli's breathing stopped for a moment. It was so brief that Yue Tingzhou almost thought he was mistaken. Then she lowered her head and dipped her fingertips in the ointment, gently applying it to the wound. The ointment was cool, instantly suppressing the burning pain, but the itchy sensation caused by the toxin remained beneath his skin. "This is pear blossom honey ointment, which can temporarily suppress the toxin," she said in a flat voice, unable to discern any emotion. "But to completely detoxify, you need to find a specialized healer. Lu Jianwei might have a way, but he is three hundred miles away." Yue Tingzhou didn't respond. He looked at the side of Zhu Hanli's face, at the shallow shadows cast by her lowered eyelashes in the firelight, at her lips—where there was still blood from the vomiting she had done earlier, now dried and forming a dark red scab. "About what happened in the secret passage..." he began, his voice hoarse. "Don't talk yet," Zhu Hanli interrupted him. " “It’s in the hands of Xie Wuchen,” Zhu Hanli added, “or someone he trusts. This copy we received is a bait he deliberately left behind.” She looked up at Yue Tingzhou: “You already guessed, didn’t you?” Yue Tingzhou remained silent. He had indeed guessed. From the flicker in the informant’s eyes when he handed over the index, to how quickly Huo Qingya appeared, to how seamlessly the three groups of pursuers coordinated – it was all too smooth, like a rehearsed play. But he hadn’t said anything, because there were no other options at the time. Either take the bait, or return empty-handed, and then wait for the Yue and Zhu families to be listed on the blacklist, with their disciples’ cultivation qualifications revoked. “Even if it’s a bait, we have to swallow it,” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. “At least now we know the location of the original scroll in the Cloud Peak Heavenly Palace, and we know the outer routes. It’s better than having nothing.” Zhu Hanli didn’t argue. She carefully re-rolled the index, tucked it back into her sleeve, and then took out two hard biscuits from her bag, handing one to Yue Tingzhou. “Eat. We need to reach the Hunter’s Hut on the east side before dawn. There’s clean water there, and we can set up some simple traps to hold back the pursuers.” Yue Tingzhou took the biscuit and took a bite. The biscuit was hard and tasted like sawdust, but he forced himself to swallow it. Having something in his stomach seemed to lessen the chill in his limbs. He leaned against the trunk of an old tree, looking at Zhu Hanli, whose silhouette was outlined by the firelight, and suddenly remembered the words she had said in the secret passage: “to dissolve the alliance.” Her eyes were cold as ice at that time. What about now? He didn't know. He only knew that earlier, on the bridge, she could have easily left on her own – with her lightness skills, she could have escaped before the broken bridge. But she didn't leave; instead, she used a forbidden technique to sever the main rope and flew across the river with him, a burden. Why? This question swirled in his throat, but he didn't ask it. He was afraid of the answer he wouldn't want to hear – like "I just didn't want the index to fall into Huo Qingya's hands," or "Wan Jing鏢局 never abandons its cargo." The fire crackled. Zhu Hanli suddenly spoke: “The brand on your shoulder is the mark of a衡律司 secret agent.” It wasn't a question, but a statement. Yue Tingzhou clenched the biscuit in his hand, his fingernails digging into the crust. “Yes.” “When was it branded?” “When I was nineteen. The year I joined.” “So, you were trying to distance yourself from me in the secret passage because you were afraid of being recognized by your衡律司 colleagues?” “……Yes.” Zhu Hanli didn’t ask any more questions. She stared at the fire for a long time, so long that Yue Tingzhou thought the conversation was over, when she finally said softly: “The year my father died, the cargo he was transporting was a copy of the original scroll of the Heavenly Mandate.” Yue Tingzhou’s head snapped up. “I was young then, and I only knew that my father had taken on a big shipment, traveling the official road from Yunzhou to the capital,” Zhu Hanli’s voice was calm, calm as if she were telling someone else’s story. “Before the caravan left, my father called my mother and me to the study and said that if this shipment was successful, Wan Jing镖局 would be able to obtain the imperial merchant license from the imperial court, and would no longer have to pay tolls at various checkpoints.” She paused, drawing a half-burned twig from the fire and unconsciously scratching it on the ground. “But he didn’t come back. The caravan reached halfway and disappeared completely, along with the people and the goods. Three days later, the wreckage of the cargo truck was found in a mountain gully, along with eleven corpses. My father’s body was not among them, but there was his knife at the scene, with the emblem of Wan Jing镖局 engraved on it.” “The authorities said it was bandits. But my mother didn’t believe it; she investigated privately, and there were no major bandit groups operating in the area between Yunzhou and the capital at that time. And…” Zhu Hanli looked up, her eyes sharp. “All the goods were gone, but the box He had seen it. Not only had he seen it, but he had also personally organized the files related to that case—it was a task he received during his second year at the Heng Law Firm, where his superior instructed him to sort and archive a batch of old cases, including "the case of the copy of the Heavenly Mandate, stolen during transport by the Wan Mirror Escort Agency in the seventh year of the Tianqi era." The conclusion recorded in the files was the same as that of the government: the victims were killed by bandits, and no one survived; the case was closed. However, he had a hunch and flipped through several additional pages of the attached investigation records. The records mentioned that of the eleven corpses, the cause of death for three was not from knife wounds, but from poisoning; there were signs of a struggle near the wreckage of the carriage, but the pattern was chaotic, unlike the banditry encirclement tactics usually employed; and, the lock on the copy box had been opened with a key, not picked. He had not dared to include these details in the official file at the time. Because his superior had explicitly said, "This is an old case, the conclusion is already reached, there is no need to add anything extra." Now, he realized that it wasn't "no need," but "not allowed." "I have read the file," Yue Tingzhou finally spoke, his voice rough like sandpaper on wood, "The conclusion is that it was a bandit attack. But I remember some discrepancies in the investigation records, which I didn't dare to pursue at the time." "What discrepancies?" "Three of the corpses died from poisoning, the lock on the box was opened with a key, and..." he paused, "a badge was found at the scene, the inscription on the badge was worn off, but the material was official copper and gold." Zhu Hanli's pupils constricted. "An official badge..." she repeated, then suddenly laughed, a cold and bitter laugh, "So, the person who killed my father was not a bandit, but someone from the official side. Or someone who could obtain an official badge." She didn't say anything more, but Yue Tingzhou knew what she was thinking—those who could obtain an official badge and suppress the discrepancies within the Heng Law Firm were few and far between in the entire martial world. And Xie Wuchen was one of them. The campfire crackled again. The call of a night owl echoed in the distance, eerie like a ghost's wail. Zhu Hanli stood up, stamped out the fire, and covered the ashes with mud. "We should go," she said, "The positioning light from the Mirror Stone can only last for six hours. We must reach the Hunter's Hut before dawn, and then find a way to shake off the pursuit." Yue Tingzhou stood up, leaning against the trunk of a tree. The wound on his left shoulder was pulled, causing him to gasp in pain. But he remained silent, following Zhu Hanli into the depths of the forest. After about half a stick of incense, Zhu Hanli suddenly stopped. She turned around, looking at Yue Tingzhou, her expression unreadable in the moonlight. "There's something I need to make clear," she said, "I'm helping you because we need each other to survive, to obtain the mother scroll and clear the names of both our families. But that doesn't mean I trust you—at least not yet." Yue Tingzhou nodded. "I understand." "When this is over, if you are still alive, and I am still alive..." Zhu Hanli paused, a hint of uncertainty in her tone, "Then we'll talk about it." She turned and continued walking. Yue Tingzhou watched her back, and suddenly remembered a saying his master, Shen Litchuan, had said: "Trust in the martial world is not earned with words, but with blood and life." He was beginning to understand. After another half an hour of walking, they finally reached the Hunter's Hut before dawn. It was a dilapidated wooden hut with a crooked door and茅草 stuffed in the windows, but it at least provided shelter from the wind. Zhu Hanli went inside to check for any ambushes before allowing Yue Tingzhou to enter. It was very dark inside, with only a sliver of moonlight filtering in through the cracks in the door. Zhu Hanli found a pile of dry grass in the corner and spread it out for Yue Tingzhou to sit and rest. She herself went to the window and peered out through the cracks in the茅草. The forest was silent, only the sound of the wind. But Yue Tingzhou knew that this silence was deceptive. Huo Qingya's people were likely already crossing the river, Xie Wuchen's next wave of pursuit Zhù Hánlí knelt behind him, her silver needles twirling between her fingers before she steadily inserted them into the acupoints near his shoulder blades. The moment the needle pierced his skin, Yue Tingzhou felt a cool current flow in along the needle's shaft, fine but steady, gradually pushing the chaotic numbness and itching sensations towards the wound. "Have you studied medicine?" he asked in a low voice. "As a courier," Zhù Hánlí's voice was close, her breath almost on the back of his neck, "you have to know a little about it. When you're seriously injured and there's no doctor around, you have to do it yourself." She inserted a second needle, then a third. Yue Tingzhou felt the numbness in his left hand slowly receding, and his fingertips could move slightly. But the pain at the wound intensified, like countless needles were piercing him. "Just bear with it," Zhù Hánlí said, "the toxins will concentrate in the wound, and it will hurt for a while, but it's better than spreading to your heart." Yue Tingzhou gritted his teeth and said nothing. One silver needle followed another, and Zhù Hánlí's movements were steady, but Yue Tingzhou could feel the trembling in her fingertips – a sign of excessive internal energy depletion. The move on the Broken Bridge had taken a far heavier toll on her than she had said. When the last needle was inserted, Zhù Hánlí suddenly gasped and stumbled forward, her forehead resting against Yue Tingzhou's uninjured right shoulder. "You..." Yue Tingzhou wanted to turn around. "Don't move," Zhù Hánlí's voice was soft, with a hint of fatigue, "let me lean on you for a while. Just a little while." Her breath brushed against the back of Yue Tingzhou's neck, warm but slightly rapid. Yue Tingzhou remained stiff, feeling her entire weight pressing down on him, heavy yet light – the weight was the physical reality, but the lightness was the sudden, unexpected reliance that took him by surprise. He didn't know what to say, so he remained motionless, allowing her to lean on him. The sky outside the window gradually turned white, and birdsong came from the forest. A new day had begun, but the pursuers would not stop just because the sun had risen. They had to continue running, continue searching, continue walking on a knife's edge. After an unknown amount of time, Zhù Hánlí finally straightened up. "Okay," her voice returned to its usual calmness, "the toxins have been temporarily suppressed, but you must find an antidote within twelve hours, otherwise they will recur." She removed the silver needles and put them away in a cloth bag, then stood up and walked to the door, looking out. "It's dawn," she said, "we have to..." Her words were cut short. Suddenly, the sound of horses' hooves came from the mountain road in the distance. Not one, but a group. The sound of the hooves crushing the morning mist was like muffled thunder, growing louder and faster, moving at an astonishing speed. Zhù Hánlí's expression changed, and she suddenly pulled open the door to look out – At the bend in the mountain road, a team of black-clad knights was rushing towards them. The horses were all black, and the riders were all in black. The one at the front held a banner, with a golden emblem of the Heavenly Mandate Book embroidered on it. At the top of the flagpole, there was a small mirror attached. The mirror's surface was facing the direction of the hunter's hut, and a faint blue light had already locked onto the wooden door. "It's Xie Wuchen's personal guard," Zhù Hánlí's voice was as cold as ice, "he's really serious about this."