The storm had finally begun to wane. The rain, once relentless, faded to a soft drizzle, and the wind carried the scent of damp earth and crushed leaves.
Jiang Feng and the woman pressed forward through the valley, their clothes soaked and torn, their bodies weary from the night's ordeal. The assassins had lost their trail for now, but it was only a matter of time before they regrouped.
The woman limped slightly, her wounds slowing her down, but her expression remained composed. She was strong. Stubborn. That much was clear.
Jiang Feng finally broke the silence.
"I never got your name."
She hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Li Xue."
A simple name. But something about it felt... guarded. As if she had given him only a small piece of herself.
Jiang Feng glanced at her wrist, where the jade lotus birthmark still peeked from beneath her tattered sleeve. His mind swirled with questions, but he knew better than to push too soon.
Instead, he simply nodded. "Jiang Feng."
She looked at him then, truly looking, as if seeing him for the first time. "You're a swordsman."
He smirked slightly. "That obvious?"
"The way you move, the way you fight… it's not just skill. It's discipline." Her dark eyes flickered with something unreadable. "You were trained by a sect."
Jiang Feng's smirk faded. A shadow passed over his expression.
"…I was."
Li Xue studied him but didn't pry. Instead, she turned her gaze to the path ahead. "There's a cave nearby," she said. "We can rest there before we decide our next move."
Jiang Feng raised an eyebrow. "You know this area well?"
Her lips pressed together. "Well enough."
She wasn't telling him everything. But for now, he let it go.
---
The cave was hidden behind a thick curtain of vines, its entrance narrow and unassuming. Inside, the air was cool, the stone walls damp with moisture. It was small, barely large enough for the two of them, but it would serve as shelter.
Jiang Feng gathered some dry twigs from the cave's entrance and started a fire. The soft glow flickered against the damp stone, casting long shadows across their faces.
Li Xue sat against the wall, exhaling as she finally let her exhaustion show. She reached for her side, wincing slightly.
Jiang Feng frowned. "Let me see."
She hesitated.
He sighed. "You fought beside me. That makes us allies, at least for now. Let me help."
After a long pause, she relented, pulling aside the torn fabric of her robes to reveal the wound.
A deep gash ran along her ribs, crusted with dried blood. It wasn't fatal, but if left untreated, it could become infected.
Jiang Feng reached into his travel pouch, pulling out a small vial of medicinal powder. "This will sting."
Li Xue didn't flinch as he carefully applied the medicine, but he didn't miss the way her fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into her palm.
Once he was done, he wrapped a clean strip of cloth around her ribs. His fingers brushed against her skin, cool against warmth, but neither of them spoke.
When he finally pulled away, she exhaled slowly. "Thank you."
Jiang Feng leaned back against the opposite wall. "You're not just some ordinary woman, are you?"
She let out a dry chuckle. "And you're not just some wandering swordsman."
Silence stretched between them, filled only by the soft crackle of the fire.
Finally, Li Xue spoke.
"The Iron Thorn Society…" she began, her voice quieter now, "they want me dead."
Jiang Feng studied her. "Why?"
She hesitated. Then, after a long moment, she said, "Because of what I know."
Jiang Feng didn't press her for details—not yet. Instead, he asked, "And the jade lotus mark?"
Li Xue's fingers traced the birthmark on her wrist, her expression unreadable.
"When I was born, an old monk told my mother that this mark was a symbol of fate. That one day, it would lead me to something—or someone—important." She let out a humorless laugh. "He never said if that fate was good or bad."
Jiang Feng leaned forward slightly. "And what do you believe?"
She looked at him then, her gaze deep and knowing. "I believe that ever since I was a child, people have tried to use me… or kill me."
Jiang Feng was silent.
After a moment, she continued, "A month ago, I overheard something I shouldn't have. A secret that the Iron Thorn Society would kill to protect."
Jiang Feng's jaw tightened. A month ago…
The same time his sect had been destroyed.
His heartbeat quickened. "What secret?"
Li Xue hesitated again, studying him carefully. As if deciding whether or not to trust him.
Finally, she said, "The massacre of the Cloudveil Sword Pavilion… it wasn't a betrayal. It was an assassination."
Jiang Feng's blood ran cold.
She continued, "Someone orchestrated it from the shadows. And the Iron Thorn Society was involved."
Jiang Feng's fists clenched. His entire life had been torn apart because of that night. And now, this woman—this stranger—was telling him that it had been a carefully planned execution?
His voice was low, dangerous. "Who?"
Li Xue shook her head. "I don't know yet. I only heard fragments. A name, a meeting place. I was trying to learn more when I was discovered."
Jiang Feng exhaled sharply. If she spoke the truth, then the real mastermind was still out there. And if the Iron Thorn Society wanted her dead…
Then that meant she was his only link to the truth.
Li Xue watched him carefully. "You don't believe me."
Jiang Feng met her gaze. "I believe that if you're lying, I'll kill you myself."
She didn't flinch. Instead, she smirked. "Fair enough."
Silence fell between them once more, but this time, it was different. He had saved her life. And now, she had given him something in return—a thread of truth in the web of lies surrounding his past.
Their fates were now tangled together, whether they liked it or not.
Jiang Feng finally leaned back, closing his eyes briefly. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter.
"What's our next move?"
Li Xue's expression turned serious. "I need to get to Lotus Pier. There's someone there who can tell us more."
Jiang Feng nodded. "Then we go together."
Li Xue raised an eyebrow. "You trust me now?"
He smirked. "Not even a little."
She let out a soft chuckle. "Good."
The fire crackled between them, casting flickering shadows on the cave walls. Outside, the rain had finally ceased, leaving behind the cold hush of the night.
Jiang Feng stared into the flames, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword.
The road ahead would be long. Dangerous. But for the first time since the massacre of his sect, he had a path forward.
And he would follow it to the bitter end.