The wind blew her hat brim up, and in the dim light, she lowered her head, her skin dark and dull, revealing only a hint of her round, pert nose and her tightly pursed, pale lips.

Mo Ye said, "Give her back to you? Fine, this woman is going to die anyway, keeping her is a losing proposition for me. You want her, right? Then I'll be generous and give her to you!"

When he finished speaking, his voice suddenly turned cold and furious. He grabbed the petite woman, carried her to the parapet, and without a word, roughly threw her toward the city wall.

On the city wall, which was over ten or twenty meters high, a figure, seemingly weightless and adrift in the wind, plummeted rapidly, like a swallow with broken wings, tracing a tragic and pitiful arc...

Everyone felt their breath catch in their throats and stared wide-eyed.

As Yuwen Sheng looked up, the night was dark, and he felt that the nightmare that had been troubling him recently was coming back to haunt him.

His face turned deathly pale. He pushed off with his feet and flew high into the air, reaching out to catch the falling person in his arms—

Just then, a hidden arrow shot out with a gust of wind. He was in mid-air and naturally couldn't avoid it, but another arrow shot out from behind in time and collided with it. With a thud, the arrows were deflected and both fell to the ground.

Seeing that this hidden arrow had failed to secretly take Yuwen Sheng's life, or even harm him in the slightest, Mo Ye furiously swept his gaze across the army below, finally fixing his eyes on a general carrying a quiver and exuding heroic spirit, secretly lamenting the countless elite generals under Yuwen Sheng's command.

No, it's not her!

The moment Yuwen Sheng caught the person, he shoved her away abruptly. But then he saw the woman disguised as Zheng Quchi pull out a dagger and lunge at his vitals.

Yuwen Sheng neither dodged nor evaded, but instead twisted her arm with his other hand, breaking her wrist bone. The woman let out a miserable whimper.

His gaze, like a venomous snake, searched her clothes. These were undoubtedly the blood-stained clothes that Zheng Quchi had once worn, but the person was not her; she was just an imposter.

Where is the real Zheng Quchi...?

The hand moved upwards, reaching the fragile neck bone, and a crisp "snap" was heard.

The disguised assassin had already lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground.

"Isn't it still the same?" Yuwen Sheng laughed, a low, trembling laugh that was neurotic, unrestrained, and maniacal. He raised his eyes, which were completely undisguised, and tilted his head to stare at Mo Ye above.

"Then I'll have to take it myself."

The voice was as soft as a whisper, but it was accompanied by an endless aura of darkness, as if a vast expanse of malevolent energy was rising, threatening to drag everything in the human world into the hell he ruled.

——

Zheng Quchi was slowly climbing the mountain like a snail, when he accidentally ate too much ginseng and started to have a nosebleed.

She was drenched in sweat, worried about pursuers and also afraid that a snake or a ferocious beast might suddenly leap out in the pitch-black night.

My heart was pounding the whole way. I touched my nose and found my hand covered in blood...

As she watched, her nose tingled, and she suddenly felt a strange sadness.

But before the tears could even fall from her eyes, she forced them back.

She wiped her nose with her sleeve and told herself that she didn't have time to wallow in self-pity; if she wanted to live, she had to fight for her life.

Finally, with extraordinary perseverance, she found the thatched hut indicated on the military doctor's map.

After walking all night along the mountain path, she was exhausted and thirsty. She forced herself to scoop a ladle of water from the water tank, gulped it down, and then curled up in a ball in the hay, falling into a deep sleep from exhaustion.

However, she didn't sleep well. In her dream, she returned to the swirling snow, and in her dream, a pair of cold, merciless, smiling eyes remained. He ignored her pleas for help and struggles, and with one slap, pushed her into an abyss.

"Heh..."

Zheng Quchi woke up with a start, covered in a cold sweat.

Then the sluggish pain in her body finally returned. She remained in one position for a long time before she was able to move again with difficulty.

The throbbing pain in her chest made it hard for her to breathe. She tore open her clothes and looked at the large, dark patch of skin. She closed her eyes and continued to chew on the ginseng.

The military doctor said that ginseng is a lifesaver, and if she suffers a backlash, she should take it in small amounts and frequently.

Because she wasn't quite clear on the Chinese medicine measure word "small," she accidentally took too much. But this time, she carefully reduced the amount and didn't dare to eat too much, for fear of getting another nosebleed.

After swallowing the liquid with cold water, she took out the brocade box.

She shook the box and saw an arrow-shaped lock on it. The lock was made of very solid materials and was of excellent quality; she couldn't even break it with a stone.

But as long as there is a keyhole, she can figure out how to unlock it by understanding the internal structure of the lock and using modern methods.

But the prerequisite is that she needs to have lock-picking tools.

She needs a wire that can be bent into any shape.

But she searched the entire thatched hut and found no useful wire, only a piece of iron tied to a wooden stick.

It was probably a knife made by a military doctor for chopping.

She had once watched a survival show where, in the wild, one could use a homemade furnace to melt iron into molten iron and recast it into its original shape.

Since she couldn't find any wire, she had no choice but to make it herself.

First, she had to build a small stove.

The furnace walls required the soft and sticky mud from the Yellow River. Thanks to the location chosen by the military doctor, there was a nearly dried-up stream nearby. She found suitable mud from it and used hand-woven rattan baskets to transport it back and forth, basket by basket.

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