[Key information detected: The poor courier's family! Mission loading...]

[Mission Description: Complete the urgent military intelligence transmission over an 800-li (approximately 400 km) distance...]

[Task Reward: 100 catties of fresh pork]

[Accept the mission: Yes/No?]

Jiang Chan's pupils suddenly contracted!

This damn system finally responded! And it responded strongly!!

Before she could even take a closer look, her survival instinct and craving for pork made her scream in her mind, "Yes! I accept!"

The thought had barely formed!

An irresistible feeling of dizziness suddenly gripped her!

The old woman's incessant chatter, Chen Yan's probing gaze, Xiao Tao's upturned face, the desolate courtyard... all the scenes were like paint thrown into a whirlpool, instantly distorted and shattered!

...

The flame of the oil lamp licked at the darkness, casting menacing shadows on the earthen wall.

A plain scroll of yellow hemp paper lay open on the table.

What's unusual is the three feathers stuck straight up on it, dark red and stiff, as if they've been quenched with blood.

This thing is called "800-li urgent delivery".

Delay means the messenger and his entire family will lose their heads.

Beside the scroll was Jiang Chan's hand.

His fingers were long and slender, with black dirt stuck under his nails. He was now gripping the edge of the table tightly, his knuckles white.

She stared at the three bloody feathers, her mind buzzing as fragments of chaotic memories crashed in—a dilapidated post station, a paralyzed post road, the stench of defeat and decay permeating the air, and the "husband" named Zhang Dashan on the bed.

And the death knell hanging overhead.

A strong stench of blood, mixed with the sour smell of sweat and medicine residue, emanated from the creaking, broken bed behind me.

Zhang Dashan was wrapped in a thin blanket whose color was indistinguishable, with only his head showing.

His face was dark red and swollen, his lips were dry and cracked, and each hot breath produced a gurgling sound, his broken babbling was indistinct.

He would occasionally convulse violently, causing the bed to groan.

The cold rain pounded fiercely against the oil paper pasted on the windowpanes.

The other two old postmen and the lame servant in the post station had long since huddled in the woodshed next door, not daring to utter a sound.

"Delay...the whole family...beheaded!" The cold words, carrying the stench of blood, rolled through her mind.

In the woodshed next door, a hushed argument pierced the wind and rain and the thin wall:

"...Send it away? Old Li, are you tired of living? Sending yourself to your death!" The old, shrill voice was filled with overwhelming fear. "Black Wind Ridge! The official road! Collapsed! Collapsed beyond recognition!"

Another hoarse voice, trembling with sobs, cried out, "The collapse is the least of our worries! It's people! Defeated soldiers! They came down from Eagle's Sorrow Gorge, like mad dogs! They looted anyone they saw, then killed them! The post station soldier ahead, hanged himself from a tree by the roadside, his intestines inside out..."

"Shh! Shut up! Are you out of your mind?!" the first voice hurriedly interrupted, "They'll hear us inside..."

"What did you hear? Who dares to touch that death warrant? Zhang Dalang is dead!" The hoarse voice rose as if in a desperate act, "Whoever wants to send him off can send him off! This old man of mine would rather rot in the haystack at the post station than go out and be slaughtered like livestock!"

"Sigh..." A long sigh, revealing utter helplessness.

The woodshed fell silent, save for the mournful howling of the wind and rain outside the window.

A dead end.

A chilling despair coiled around my heart like a venomous snake.

System panel:

[Quest Triggered: The Poor Family of the Postal Workers]

[Identity recorded: Lin Cuixiang, wife of Zhang Dashan, a courier]

[Mission Description: Replace your seriously ill husband, a courier, and complete the urgent military intelligence delivery! Deliver the urgent message to the Qingshan Pass Governor's Mansion before the deadline; Countdown: 05:59:12; Items Provided: Mountain off-road vehicle x1; Map + Directional marker x1]

[Task Reward: 100 catties of fresh pork]

[Mission Failed: Execution of the Entire Family]

Jiang Chan took a deep breath, the cold air making her throat hurt, but her mind cleared instantly.

Why is this dog system different from the previous one that sweeps and weaves hay rings?

Why didn't they mention the penalties for failing the task when they posted it?!

The entire family was executed... Was I going to experience that myself?

Explain yourself!

"system?!"

But the system gave no other response besides those words.

Her gaze shifted from the dying man, fixing on Blood Feather like a nail.

Never mind... that's not a death warrant, that's—100 jin of fresh pork!

The mission must be completed!

She turned around abruptly, stirring up a gust of wind that made the oil lamp flame flicker violently.

He rushed to the cracked old wooden box by the bedside and roughly ripped open the lid.

It smelled musty.

The box contained a few old, patched-up pieces of clothing worn by post station workers, dusty and stained with mud and sweat that couldn't be washed off.

Without the slightest hesitation.

She grabbed Zhang Dashan's thickest old dark blue coarse linen coat from the trunk and put it on.

She changed into gray cotton trousers, the thick hemp rope tightly binding the waistband and hem of her jacket.

She then tucked her hair back into her hat.

In the mirror, the woman's delicate face was now only a cold, calm expression.

She is now Zhang Xiaohe, Zhang Dashan's "cousin" whom no one has ever seen before.

He picked up the urgent document with blood-stained feathers from the table; the cold scroll felt rough against his hand.

He turned around and pulled open the creaking, dilapidated door.

Standing in front of the three timid-looking men, Jiang Chan didn't waste any words, "You guys help look after Zhang Dashan!"

"Sigh...we are too..."

Jiang Chan took out a few pieces of silver and handed them over, "...help take care of him, give him water and food..."

"ah!"

"oh!"

"good!"

Jiang Chan didn't say much, turned around and stepped into the wind and rain.

The cold rain and wind lashed down, and even with an umbrella, my old coat was instantly soaked through, clinging heavily to my skin, the chill biting to the bone.

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