In a state between sleep and wakefulness, Wang Xiuxiu's consciousness was shrouded in a thick fog.

She tried hard to stay awake, her long eyelashes trembling, but she couldn't fully open her heavy eyelids.

Under the influence of the drug, her thoughts were fragmented, yet she was determined to leave some clues—even just tearing off a piece of clothing or knocking over a hairpin would do.

However, Zhou Yun'an was clearly prepared, not only binding her hands tightly but also changing her clothes into the most ordinary coarse cloth clothes.

The carriage suddenly stopped, and the sound of its wheels rolling over gravel ceased abruptly.

Xiao Cheng whispered from outside, "Master, we've arrived at the ferry."

Zhou Yun'an did not answer, but simply reached out to wrap a coarse cloth headscarf around Wang Xiuxiu's head.

The rough fabric rubbed against her cheeks, carrying the damp scent unique to the riverbank.

He picked her up horizontally.

Wang Xiuxiu's head rested limply against his chest. In her blurred vision, an inconspicuous awning boat was moored on the river in the distance, with a hunched old boatman standing at the bow, his face obscured by a straw hat.

It turns out that Zhou Yun'an had deliberately created a maze along the way, intending to travel by water.

The thought flashed through Wang Xiuxiu's muddled mind. In her few moments of clarity, she felt both hatred and fear towards this person—hatred for his scheming and fear for his meticulous mind.

Suddenly, Zhou Yun'an whispered in her ear, his warm breath brushing against her cool earlobe, "When we get to Mingzhou, you'll thank me for letting you live until now."

The voice was as soft as a lover's murmur, yet it sent chills down Wang Xiuxiu's spine.

Just as they were about to board the ship, a startled cry suddenly came from the teahouse at the ferry crossing: "Your Highness, what are you doing here?"

The sound was crisp and clear, standing out starkly in the quiet ferry crossing.

Zhou Yun'an froze.

Wang Xiuxiu used all her strength, but all she could see was a flower girl standing in the tea stall.

It was Cui'er, who had once received her kindness in Mingzhou!

The girl was carrying a bamboo basket with several bunches of fresh flowers inside.

"You've mistaken me for someone else." Xiao Cheng quickly stepped forward to block the view, but his right hand secretly reached for the short knife at his waist.

"No way!" Cui'er stood there, peering around, the jasmine flowers in the bamboo basket swaying gently with her movements. "The Consort bought some of my jasmine last month..."

In a flash, Wang Xiuxiu bit her tongue!

The excruciating pain briefly broke her sedation, and as blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, she finally let out a weak groan: "Run..."

Before the darkness swallowed her consciousness, Wang Xiuxiu saw Cui'er turn and run away, while Xiao Cheng's throwing knife was already unsheathed.

In the sunlight, the blade flashed with a cold light, heading straight for Cui'er's back.

The moment the flying knife pierced the air, Cui'er leaped into the swift-flowing river.

The icy river water instantly swallowed her figure, and her blood spread a glaring red across the surface.

"Dead." Xiao Cheng squinted at the churning blood and sheathed his sword.

No one was on the river anymore; only a few jasmine flowers drifted with the current, gradually turning pale pink.

Zhou Yun'an stared at the spreading blood, tightened his grip on the unconscious Wang Xiuxiu in his arms, and strode toward the awning boat.

\"sail!\"

For some reason, Zhou Yun'an's voice carried an unusual air of anxiety.

At the same moment, Lu Jingze, outside Yunling Pass, suddenly pulled on the reins.

The warhorse reared up with a neigh, raising a cloud of dust.

He instinctively reached for his chest, where a talisman was hidden.

The stitches on the brocade pouch are fine and neat, embroidered by Xiuxiu herself.

"No..." Lu Jingze's pupils contracted sharply. The unease he'd felt for days finally found an outlet. "Whether it's the fabric or the tire tracks, Zhou Yun'an did it on purpose!"

He abruptly raised his head, his eyes flashing with a sharp light, "Zhou Yun'an isn't at Yunling Pass at all!"

"Send the order!" Lu Jingze's voice boomed like thunder, startling the birds in the forest. "The entire army retreats to Peizhou City!"

"Your Highness?" Zhou Han was taken aback, and the command flag in his hand almost fell to the ground.

Lu Jingze had already spurred his horse into a gallop, his black cloak fluttering behind him.

"Zhou Yun'an didn't leave Peizhou at all! He took Xiuxiu and went back!" His voice was filled with unprecedented urgency.

Upon returning to Peizhou City, the group did not dare to linger for even a moment and headed straight for the ferry.

The Xuanjia Guard's iron cavalry shattered the morning tranquility of the ferry crossing, startling the water birds on the shore into scattering and fleeing.

But when everyone rushed into the ferry, the tea stall was already empty.

The overturned teapot was still being handed over, and a few jasmine flowers lay scattered on the ground, already trampled into the mud.

Lu Jingze dismounted and scanned his surroundings, only to find a series of messy footprints and a few drops of blood that had not yet dried on the muddy ground.

The bloodstains were bright red and glaring, standing out starkly against the grayish-brown soil.

He crouched down, his fingertips dabbing at a speck of crimson.

Just as he was deep in thought, a faint cry for help came from the reeds on the riverbank.