Time travel but extremely unlucky
The room was completely dark.
Everyone had their heads down, huddled together, some sitting, some kneeling, breathing softly.
There was a large hole in the roof, but someone had covered it up with tree branches. Moonlight streamed into the room, casting a slanted glow into the corners.
Hanjiang groggily opened her eyes, the moonlight illuminating half of her face. She looked up, following the light to the roof, and then around. She struggled to stand up, but the girl beside her pressed her down and made her sit back down on the ground.
With my hands tied behind my back, it felt very awkward.
There was a huge wound on her stomach, with congealed blood plastered on it. Her movements had caused the wound to reopen, and blood began to flow down her legs from her stomach.
As the cold approached, I felt a piercing pain.
She tried to figure out what was going on.
The memories in my mind are a jumbled mess.
She shook her head.
She recalled that she came to Anzhou with her fellow disciples to help refugees in the morning. She remembered that someone screamed in the crowd, and then the refugees quickly became disobedient and fled in all directions.
She tried to calm the crowd, but was struck on the head. As she turned to look at the person who hit her, she was stabbed through the stomach with a sword.
Then I lost consciousness.
They must have been captured by the rebels.
Several months ago, Anju rebelled, and the rebel forces quickly grew into an army, attempting to establish Anju's independence.
The people of Anzhou fled one after another to the neighboring Mizhou.
Unfortunately, the imperial court delayed sending troops to suppress the rebellion.
The intention is obvious.
Anzhou is close to the Demon Realm, and the imperial court clearly intends to leave this matter to the Demon Clan to resolve.
After all, the first to suffer from the turmoil in Anzhou are the Demon Realm and Mizhou on the neighboring side.
These are all the original owner's relevant memories. Han Jiang transmigrated here, and the only way to obtain information is through the original owner's memories.
There was no system, and they didn't know where they had traveled to.
My head is throbbing with cold; that blow must have given me a mild concussion. I can't remember a lot of things for a while.
She had to get out of there quickly, otherwise, at the rate at which the wound on her stomach was bleeding, she would bleed to death.
Could she be the fastest transmigrator to die in history? Even feeding a kill in a game wouldn't kill her that fast!
Han Jiang leaned closer to the girl beside him and whispered, "Where is this?"
Under the moonlight, the girl looked terrified, turned her head away from Han Jiang, and ignored him.
"Hey you over there! What are you doing getting so close? Did you get permission to speak?" The guard at the door had sharp ears; he could hear Han Jiang speaking even from this far away.
The guard pushed through the crowd and squeezed to Han Jiang's side. Han Jiang was thin and small, and was easily picked up and thrown out.
Han Jiang seemed to have bumped into someone, fell to the ground, and was kicked away. She could only curl up on the ground, panting.
The person who kicked her was another guard, a bald man. He said, "Those who talk too much can just die first."
If Han Jiang's hands hadn't been tied behind her back, she would have slapped herself: "Serves you right for being so talkative."
She was just thrown to the door.
There were only three or four guards near the door, and the hostages were desperately trying to squeeze into the house.
The wound on my stomach seemed to have been torn open, and the pain was so intense that I couldn't move.
By the moonlight, the guards counted heads: "One, two... eighteen, nineteen—"
After counting, a dozen or so people stood up shakily.
Finally, Han Jiang got kicked by the bald man again: "Here! Count this one, it's exactly twenty!"
"Stand up!" the guard shouted to Han Jiang.
How can one stand up when the cold descends?
The guard grabbed Han Jiang's arm, pulled her up, and shoved her toward the other hostages who were also standing there.
The two men used their bodies to shield her from the cold, and she was able to stand up with difficulty.
There were still quite a few people squatting inside. Why call twenty people?
The door was pushed open, and a man wearing a black robe walked in.
The guards immediately became respectful and said, "Sir, these are the next twenty people."
The man said to the hostages, "You'd better pray that this negotiation goes smoothly, otherwise they won't agree, the negotiation will break down, you'll die, and we'll have to send twenty more over."
So they're going to their deaths! No wonder everyone's crowding inside; the closer they are to the door, the easier it is to get targeted and die faster!
The man in the black robe was muttering incantations.
Han Jiang could feel a series of incantations drilling into his ears, making his head swell and his consciousness gradually blur.
A voice suddenly rang in my mind: Spiritual power manipulation.
An unfamiliar word seemed to illuminate the mind along with the original owner's memories, and the previously blurred consciousness gradually became clear again.
Han lowered his head and glanced at the people around him out of the corner of his eye. They all had empty eyes, as if their minds had been controlled.
Strangely, apart from that brief moment of loss of consciousness, Han Jiang still retains her will at this moment.
Could it be that this spell is ineffective against her? If so, that would truly be a stroke of luck.
Right now, apart from feeling a little drowsy, I have no other sensations in my mind.
The man's magic not only failed to control the cold, but instead temporarily blocked the pain from the cold.
"Line up in a row!" the man shouted.
A dozen or so people moved slowly, forming a near-column, and followed the man out of the cabin.
Cold Rain followed at the very end.
The dozen or so people in front of them remained silent and obediently followed the man, showing no intention of resistance.
The man leading the group was quite at ease, holding a torch and striding forward, not at all worried about whether there would be anything unusual about the group behind him.
Han Jiang imitated the posture of his predecessors, lowering his head slightly, so that he could only see the back of the person in front of him.
She dared not look around until she was out of the guards' sight of the cabin.
The dilapidated wooden house is located halfway up a mountain.
The man is now leading them down the mountain.
After walking for quite some time, Han Jiang finally dared to slightly turn his head to check the surroundings.
In August, the nights were still hot and dry.
Hanjiang was having some trouble breathing. But with the dozen or so people ahead of him moving in unison, Hanjiang dared not let his guard down.
The surrounding area was dense with foliage and intertwined shadows; if one were to flee, it would be impossible to see any human figure in the dark.
But another problem was the sound. The ground in the mountains was covered with a thick layer of fallen leaves, and the sound of people walking by was constant.
Once Hanjiang leaves the group, his pace will inevitably differ from those in front of him.
She could only gradually shrink her steps, slowly widening the distance between herself and the person in front of her, calculating the right moment, matching the sound of footsteps, and slipping away into the nearby woods.
The woods were pitch black, and the crowd walked further and further away.
Only when he could no longer hear footsteps or see the faint light of torches did Hanjiang dare to emerge from the shadows of the trees.
She had no sense of direction at all when she was running away.
Perhaps the spell had a time limit, because she no longer felt sleepy, but at the same time, the wound on her stomach began to hurt intensely.
Both hands were still bound behind his back and had not been untied.
Han Jiang gritted his teeth, thinking that he had no choice but to take a gamble.
So, using the moonlight, they found a relatively flat path, buried their heads and rushed forward, not daring to stop for a moment.
I don't know how many times I fell, but I finally managed to fall my way out of the mountains.
He lay half-submerged on the flat ground, panting heavily.
They finally escaped.
Someone's here! Han Jiang turned his head and saw a group of people approaching with torches.
How unlucky! I ran into this as soon as I came out.
I had no choice but to straighten up and take a step in the opposite direction.
"There are people ahead! Chase them!" The group spotted Han Jiang and chased after him, waving torches.
Han Jiang had no strength left to continue running. He was surrounded after only a few steps.
Someone asked, "Who are you?"
Why do you ask that? Aren't they with that man in the black robe?
Han Jiang knelt on the ground, raised his head, and met a pair of eyes.
His face was obscured in the darkness, but he was dressed in dark clothing, his hair neatly styled, clean and gentle.
Her memory told her that this was someone she knew very well. Like the last warmth in the ashes of memory, it offered her comfort.
"The Cold Descent?" the man asked tentatively.
"Great, they're on our side." Han Jiang felt a surge of immense relief, her tense nerves finally relaxed, and she collapsed forward with the weight of the fallen.
I woke up again to find myself being doused with a bucket of cold water.
Han Jiang sat up abruptly, wiping the water from her face. The sudden movement aggravated her wound. The knife wound on her abdomen had been simply bandaged, but the other minor wounds had not been treated.
Even when saving a person, don't save the whole body.
The makeshift camp was illuminated by magical fire.
A handsome man sat by the bed, looking familiar, but I couldn't place him. He must be the one who saved Han Jiang earlier.
His eyes and brows are gentle yet convey a sense of distance, and the corners of his mouth are naturally slightly upturned, giving the illusion that he is always smiling. The mole under his left eye adds a touch of heroism and cunning to his otherwise gentle face.
The original owner must have known this person; otherwise, the body wouldn't have instinctively relaxed upon seeing them.
But now that person's gaze towards Han Jiang was filled with hostility.
Could it be her ex-boyfriend? Han Jiang suddenly felt guilty.
"Can you get down and walk?" the man asked.
Han Jiang helped herself up from the bed; although her wound hurt, it didn't prevent her from walking.
"Since you can walk, then lead the way." The man stood up and beckoned several guards to walk out of the tent.
Hanjiang asked, "Where are you going?"
The man's tone was impatient: "Go back to where you just escaped from."
Han Jiang wasn't exactly known for her good temper. Having just escaped with great difficulty, and with her wounds still untreated, not to mention being doused with cold water, no one would speak kindly to her: "You already said I escaped back, why would I go back?"
“Anzhou is in turmoil. The rebels have taken about a hundred people hostage. They cast a spell on the mountain to disrupt the spiritual energy, so we can’t find the hostages. That’s why we have no choice but to ask you to lead the way,” the man said, changing his tone.
The spiritual energy was in disarray… Han Jiang pondered, searching for the corresponding explanation in his mind.
This spell can cause a person to lose control over their spiritual power, and for those with strong spiritual power, it can even affect their five senses. So how did I find the way down the mountain? Was it just pure luck?
The man said, "What are you thinking about with your head down? Why aren't you moving?"
Han Jiang's wrists were bound by a rope, the other end of which was tied to a man.
The man pulled hard forward, forcing Han Jiang to fall forward. He had to take quick steps to regain his balance.
Is the man in front of me really someone I know? It feels like he's abusing me.
"Don't misunderstand, this is just in case we get separated." The man's smile was enigmatic, sending chills down one's spine.
Han Jiang thought to himself: Then why shouldn't I be the one holding your hand?
But she didn't say it aloud; she knew when to back down.
The man used a disguise technique and changed his clothes before going up the mountain.
Han Jiang recognized the uniform as that of the rebels; she had seen the guards dressed like that in the wooden house.
Going down the mountain is easy, but going up is hard. How come I didn't realize how difficult the mountain path was when I was escaping for my life?
Fortunately, Hanjiang's memories are good, and she is by no means directionally challenged. Her sense of direction is much better than others. Back then, she passed her driving test on the first try, which she bragged about for a whole summer, unlike her classmates who failed many times.
Han Jiang led the way, with the man walking beside her, followed by six other people.
"We're almost there," Han Jiang said softly.
The man then ordered the six men to stay put and untied the ropes binding Han Jiang's hands.
"Come up with me, don't try anything funny."
Playing tricks? Dude, is it possible we're in cahoots? Han Jiang wondered.
She couldn't help but wonder if this man was actually someone the original owner of the body knew.
The man urged, "Let's go." (This refers to the unidentified fellow draped in a cold, menacing skin.)
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