Fu mu floated on the sea, and Zhong Li stared intently at the man opposite her.
"You've lived two lives?" she asked, processing his words.
Lu Wuxie nodded. His eyes, now devoid of their usual unrestraint, held a maturity and depth unfitting for his age.
"Lier, do you believe me?" he said, not daring to meet her gaze, fearing he would see disbelief and resistance written there.
"I should have realized it sooner," Zhong Li said, noticing his evasion. This was the first time she had seen Lu Wuxie lacking confidence. She placed the small wooden plank aside, slowly moved closer to him, and gently took his icy fingertips. "So, when you watched your mother die before your eyes again, you decided to investigate what was behind it, didn't you?"
Lu Wuxie turned to look at her. It was the first time she had smiled at him so sincerely. His heart felt as though something had gently stirred it, and an unfamiliar warmth began to scorch him.
His Adam's apple bobbed. He nodded. "In my previous life, I froze to death. I still remember the heavy snowfall on the northern outskirts of Jincheng the day I died. I was buried in the snow. At first, my hands and feet could still move, then only my body, and finally, only my eyeballs. I watched helplessly as traveler after traveler passed by me.
They wore roughspun clothes, their hands and feet tucked away, carrying heavy luggage. They looked crude, but I envied them because they were still alive."
"Your Highness, you were of such high status, and the Prince of Xian's household was second only to the Emperor. Why did you end up in such a state back then?" Zhong Li couldn't help but ask after hearing Lu Wuxie's words.
Lu Wuxie did not answer immediately.
He simply blinked, watching the sky slowly being swallowed by darkness.
As the first stars lit up in the sky, the sea shed the clamor of the day, leaving only the silence of the night. The man on the floating wood closed his eyes, his brow furrowed.
"Throw him here!" a man in black, his face masked, called out to the two subordinates behind him.
Upon hearing this, the two subordinates, with a look of disgust as if discarding something unclean, tossed the man they were carrying onto the ground.
Simultaneously, the snowflakes that had scattered on the ground were kicked up by Lu Wuxie's fall.
"Lu Wuxie!" the man in black looked down at him, his eyes roaming over his body, which was already riddled with wounds. "I never imagined that the esteemed heir of the Prince of Xian's household, the most dashing young man in Jincheng, would suffer such a fate."
Lu Wuxie stared coldly into the man's eyes, mustering all his strength to retort, "If you have the guts, kill me with a sword! Why are you babbling here?"
"Hmph!"
"Ugh..."
The man in black heard him and stomped on Lu Wuxie's injured shoulder. He ground his heel into the wound and laughed maniacally. "Lu Wuxie, don't try to provoke me into giving you a quick death. I'll tell you the truth. I deliberately avoided your major arteries while torturing you, and brought you here half-dead because of someone's orders. He said you should open your eyes and see clearly whose world this truly is! Your Lu family is no longer glorious."
"Bastard! You... ugh..." Lu Wuxie listened and struggled with all his might.
Alas, he was already crippled. His movements appeared to others as mere death throes. The man in black merely applied more pressure, and he collapsed into the snow, gasping for breath.
"Hmph!" The man in black snorted dismissively, casually grabbed a tattered blanket, and threw it over him. "After the Laba Festival, the Crown Prince will ascend the throne. You must survive."
With that, the man in black turned his horse and left.
Snowflakes drifted down from the sky, and Lu Wuxie watched as people hurried past him. Covered by a ragged blanket, no one noticed his presence, nor did anyone have the time to search the mass grave for any signs of life.
After an unknown duration, Lu Wuxie felt as though he had slept, or perhaps... he had died. The sound of clinking bowls and plates reached his ears.
Lu Wuxie opened his eyes. A bowl of steaming Laba congee was placed before him. Not far away stood a woman, a food basket on her arm, watching him from a distance.
He parted his dry, thin lips, about to say something, when a man approached the woman and pulled her away.
"Thank you!" Lu Wuxie could only face the empty path, enduring the biting cold wind, and say his thanks softly.
He looked at the Laba congee before him. His hamstring and tendons had been severed; he couldn't lift the bowl. Enduring the heart-wrenching pain his body suffered from moving, he used the strength in his neck to crawl to the edge of the bowl. He paid no mind to whether the porridge was too hot, nor did he bother to pick out the date pits, swallowing it haphazardly.
When the bowl was empty, he lay back down on the ground, watching the goose-feather snow drift gracefully in the air. A tear slowly traced a path down his eye.
He knew that victory and defeat were common in war, and he accepted this outcome with resignation.
But his mother's life, the lives of over a hundred servants and masters in the Prince of Xian's household – who would explain them?
He stared with wide eyes at the slowly rising morning sun, watching the people who hurried past him. His heart forever ceased to beat.
"Hoo!" Lu Wuxie suddenly opened his eyes. The moment the vast expanse of stars reflected in his eyes, he was still somewhat disoriented.
It wasn't until a gust of icy sea breeze touched his face that he realized it was just another nightmare.
How long had he slept?
Lu Wuxie turned his head to look around. The floating wood was still drifting at sea, and the small fishing island was no longer too far away. As for Zhong Li, she seemed to have fallen asleep from exhaustion, lying askew to the side.
Lu Wuxie managed to prop himself up, inching his way to her side. He gazed at her stunning face under the starlight and bright moon. Just as he reached for the wooden plank in her hand to paddle again, his fingertip felt intense heat. Startled, he quickly reached out and touched her forehead.
Zhong Li had a fever.
Lu Wuxie's brow furrowed unconsciously. He dropped the wooden plank and looked at the bone-chillingly cold sea. Without hesitation, he plunged into the water, pushing the floating wood with all his might towards the fishing island.
Fortunately, the night was calm and the wind still. Enduring the tearing pain of his wounds soaking in the sea, he finally reached the shore in the latter half of the night.
At this moment, Lu Wuxie had exhausted all his strength.
He dragged the floating wood, using his last ounce of consciousness, crawling inch by inch onto the shore. Only when he was sure that the waves would not reach him again did he finally relax.
And at that very moment, he felt a dizzying sensation, as if the world were spinning. He was familiar with this feeling; it was how he felt before he died in his previous life.
His body felt light, as if it were about to fly.
Lu Wuxie reluctantly lifted his heavy eyelids, looking at the woman still sleeping soundly on the floating wood. He parted his dry, thin lips and murmured, "Lier... I told you you shouldn't have saved me... but you wouldn't listen. This time, consider it me repaying you."