Escape to Freedom

The man instinctively jerked his head aside, narrowly dodging the blow.

In that instant, Chen Ye closed in.

His fingers hooked around the man's wrist. Using the grip to pivot, he swung the man between himself and the other guard.

Chen Ye's strength was astonishing. The man could not break free; pain shot through his wrist, and his hand opened on reflex.

His long saber fell.

Chen Ye caught it with the tip of his foot and flicked it into his hand, then brought it across the man's neck.

"What was that you said... about leaving me a way out?"

The man opened his mouth, his face deathly pale, but not a word came out.

Chen Ye gave him no chance to speak.

He swept the blade across.

Like slaughtering a chicken or butchering a dog, he slit the man's throat with one clean stroke.

Warm blood spattered across his face.

Chen Ye shoved the corpse forward into the other guard.

The two tangled together.

Without a moment's hesitation, Chen Ye charged, saber swinging.

The last guard hastily raised his blade to block.

But caught off guard, how could he withstand Chen Ye, who had undergone Mortal Shedding once already?

Clang! His saber flew from his hand, and the force knocked him flat.

His hands trembled as he begged, "Don't kill me... don't kill me... It was... it was the family head's order! None of us could disobey! Spare me, please spare me!"

Chen Ye frowned.

The family head. Gao Boyan.

When he had served the Gao Family, his position had been too low for him to have any dealings with the man.

Even on the rare occasions they crossed paths, he had only glimpsed him from afar.

Yet Gao Boyan had treated him like raw material to be used up, determined to put him to death.

These pursuers were no different from him: expendable material in the Gao Family's hands.

Anyone willing to risk their life for the Gao Family was not worth sparing.

"Where's Gao Yunheng?"

"The... the Eldest Young Master left for a post in the Capital City a few days ago."

The Capital City?

Chen Ye remembered.

The Xie Family seemed to be in the Capital City too.

The guard's hand crept toward a crossbow beside him.

He thought he was being discreet, but Chen Ye had noticed long ago.

Chen Ye's blade rose and fell. With a wet slice, the pleas stopped dead.

The bamboo grove fell utterly silent.

Standing among the three corpses, Chen Ye looked down at the long saber in his hand.

Its edge was chipped too.

He tossed it aside and took one that was still intact.

Then he crouched and searched the bodies one by one, finding a total of four taels in silver bits.

Redeem!

[Remaining lifespan: forty-three days.]

Chen Ye stared at the line of figures for a moment.

Forty-three days.

He had killed so many people and taken every bit of silver he could find, yet he still had only forty-three days.

Expressionless, he wrapped the long saber in strips of cloth and strapped it to his back. He hung the crossbow at his waist, then gathered a few arrows and some dried rations from the ground.

When he stood, the wound beneath his ribs pulled, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

The dogs' barking in the distance was drawing closer.

Chen Ye wasted no more time and sprinted down the mountain.

Beyond Spring Mountain, the official road northeast led out of Qinghe Prefecture.

The Gao Family's influence in Qinghe Prefecture had roots tangled deep and wide. There was no place left for him there; he had to leave as soon as possible.

Chen Ye had barely gone when the Gao Family's men arrived on his heels.

But all they found were corpses strewn across the ground. Chen Ye was nowhere in sight.

A light breeze swept through the sea of bamboo, setting it rustling.

The hounds barked furiously where they stood.

After leaving Spring Mountain, Chen Ye ran for over a hundred li without stopping.

A full day later, he finally crossed out of Qinghe Prefecture.

Only then did he dare pause to catch his breath.

Chen Ye crouched between rocks beside a stream, scooped up cold water, and splashed it over his face.

The water washed the scabs from his knuckles. Thin threads of pale-red blood seeped out again, exposing raw pink wounds.

He tore a strip from the hem of his robe and bound the wounds tightly, then tucked the short saber at his waist.

His injuries still throbbed faintly, and it took him a while to recover.

Forty-three days.

As Chen Ye crouched by the stream and drank, he called up the number again.

Everything he owned amounted to those forty-three days of life, a short saber, a crossbow, a few arrows, and the scant scraps of dried food he had taken from the corpses.

He had to go to the Capital City.

The Xie Family and Gao Yunheng were all there.

So were the cultivation methods and pills that could prolong his life.

In the Jing Kingdom, the aristocratic clans held a stranglehold on martial arts. Most techniques were passed down within families and never shared with outsiders.

And most of the foremost clans were entrenched in the Imperial Region.

To solve his lifespan problem for good, he could only seek a way through those clans.

There was no other path to survival.

He filled his waterskin, stood, and continued on his way.

Two days later, with his rations nearly gone, he finally reached the docks at Anhuai.

The Anhuai docks stood on Great Peace Lake and connected to the Grand Canal. A major hub between the lands south of the Yangtze and the Capital City, they bustled with activity.

Porters hauling sacks, vendors hawking goods, saber-wearing wanderers, boatmen calling for passengers... people from every walk of life mingled there, fish and dragons in the same waters.

Chen Ye wrapped his crossbow and arrows in a burlap sack and slung it over his back. With a saber at his waist, he looked no different from any other wandering martial artist and drew little attention.

Only the dried blood on his clothes set him slightly apart, giving off the distinctive rank smell of human blood.

But he had no mind to worry about it.

Three days had passed since he left Spring Mountain.

His forty-three days of life had become forty.

He needed to find a boat to the Capital City as soon as possible.

Chen Ye first went to the notice board by the docks to look for boats heading there.

Ideally, he could find work along the way too, enough to cover his expenses and buy back some of his lifespan.

A crowd had gathered around the board.

Chen Ye squeezed through for a look. Most notices offered poorly paid work unloading cargo.

Only one notice still had wet ink. It looked as though it had just been posted.

A merchant convoy was recruiting temporary guards to escort its boats to the Capital City.

Applicants had to be strong and sturdy; some skill in martial arts was preferred. Pay was settled daily.

Chen Ye stopped an idle man beside him and asked, "Has this boatman filled the positions? Can I apply?"

The man looked him up and down. Seeing that Chen Ye was young and hardly burly, he laughed. "You? They're hiring men who'll have to fight for their lives, men who live with their tongues on a knife's edge. This isn't children playing house."

"Hey, making a living is hard enough. Why laugh at him?" Another idle man pointed the way. "Go straight down this road and you'll see Boss Zhou's boat. They're hiring beside it. Ask them yourself."

Chen Ye cupped his fists and thanked him, then headed in the direction he had indicated.

Sure enough, a large, flat-bottomed canal boat with a shallow hold was moored beside the dock.

A crowd of wandering martial artists had gathered on the open ground beside it, arguing noisily.

Chen Ye moved closer and saw what was happening: the convoy was choosing boat guards, but applicants first had to demonstrate their strength.

Those who could use a saber or shoot arrows had priority.

Strong applicants came next.

He found the boatman overseeing the selection, cupped his fists, and said, "Sir, I'm here to apply."

The boatman glanced at him. Seeing Chen Ye's disheveled hair, dirty face, and catching the rank smell clinging to him, he frowned.

He recognized the smell. It was not animal blood, but human.

The boatman's gaze lingered on the saber at Chen Ye's waist and the crossbow wrapped in burlap on his back. He did not send him away. "Can you shoot?"

Chen Ye patted the crossbow on his back and nodded. "Yes!"

"And blades?"

"Those too."

"Good. Lift a stone for me."

Chen Ye looked around. Several stone locks used for strength training stood by the docks, toys the porters used to test their strength in their spare time.

The heaviest looked to weigh only a little over a hundred jin.

The wandering martial artists seeking work took turns trying to lift it, their faces turning red with effort.

Chen Ye walked over, gripped the stone lock's handle with one hand, and raised it to his chest.

The movement tugged at the wound beneath his ribs. His brows drew together slightly, but his arm remained steady.

After a brief pause, he lifted it over his head.

The surrounding noise fell silent for an instant.