As dusk settled, the setting sun painted the last traces of crimson on the ruins of the abandoned post station. Exhausted from days of travel, the guards took turns keeping watch, the campfire crackling and illuminating their weary yet alert faces.
Xiao Chengkang leaned against a half-collapsed pillar, his hands moving swiftly by the flickering firelight. Several "ghost-crying vines" and "bone-rotting grasses" he had just picked from the damp, shady spot behind the post station were quickly sorted and ground between his fingers. The powder, mixed with sulfur and saltpeter, hissed softly in the earthenware mortar, emitting a sweet, fishy odor that sent chills down one's spine.
His eyes were dark and swollen, his fingertips were stained purplish-black from the medicine, and there were even a few minor burns.
A-Yuan sat not far from him, silently wiping her short dagger. The firelight flickered on her serene profile, but her gaze kept drifting to the figure focused on making medicine in the dim light. Looking at his bloodshot eyes, his slightly trembling yet steady fingers, and his pale lips from exhaustion, a delicate, tender tenderness entwined around her heart like vines.
She put down the dagger, got up and walked to the campfire. Using tongs, she picked up several pieces of glowing red-hot charcoal and placed them in an old earthenware pot, then carefully poured in water. The water quickly heated up. She then took a clean cloth, soaked it in the hot water, wrung it out, and walked to Xiao Chengkang's side. Without saying a word, she gently placed the warm cloth over the back of his hand, which rested on his lap and was slightly convulsing from grinding for so long.
The sudden warmth made Xiao Chengkang pause. He looked up and met A Yuan's eyes, which were filled with worry and heartache. The firelight illuminated her clear reflection—a haggard version of herself.
"Take a break?" A-Yuan's voice was soft, with a hint of pleading. "The medicine... is enough."
Xiao Chengkang felt the warm, soothing touch on the back of his hand, as if the heat traveled through his veins to his heart, dispelling some of the chill of fatigue. He slightly tugged at the corners of his mouth, revealing a reassuring smile, and gently placed his hand on hers, patting it lightly. "It's alright. Prepare more, so you can rest assured. Go and rest. The first half of the night will be fine, but the second half might be a bit more turbulent." His words were filled with certainty. A-Yuan wanted to say something, but he had already lowered his head, continuing to focus on the medicine bowl in his hands, though his tightly furrowed brows seemed to relax a little.
A-Yuan silently withdrew her hand, sat down beside him, and picked up the dagger again. This time, she wiped it with even more force, as if she wanted to infuse her worries and determination to protect it into the cold blade.
Sure enough, just after midnight, when all was quiet, a strange thing happened!
"Enemy attack—! Southwest!" The shadow guard on guard duty shouted sharply, breaking the silence!
Countless dark figures, like demons emerging from the ground, silently scaled over the dilapidated walls of the post station! This time, there were more of them than in Wild Wolf Valley, and their movements were even more treacherous. They had clearly learned from their previous experience and were attempting to crush the enemy with sheer numbers and stealthy infiltration!
However, what awaited them was a swift and decisive counterattack from the Jingwang Mansion's shadow guards, who were well-prepared!
"Make your move!" the Shadow Guard leader roared, his voice as cold as ice.
Several shadow guards raised their hands almost simultaneously! White "Three-Step Confusion" powder spread like night fog among the assassins charging at the forefront! The assassins who rushed into the fog froze, their eyes glazed over, and they staggered and fell to the ground as if drunk!
"An ambush! Hold your breath!" The assassin leader was both shocked and furious.
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