Li Wuxin moved with quiet urgency, every muscle in his body screaming with fatigue. Xu Moyao, still fragile, was barely clinging to life, his limp body held firmly on Li Wuxin's back as they dashed through the moonlit corridors of the fortress. The clang of their footsteps on stone echoed, but there was no time for hesitation. They had to escape.

Lan Boxiao, her face set with determination, walked alongside them, her eyes ever watchful. She'd taken up the rear, guarding them. Each step was heavy with the knowledge that they might not make it out alive. Yet, they were not slowing down, not even for a moment. The flickering torches, the sharp smell of blood, the distant cries of soldiers, they were all but forgotten in the rush of their desperate flight.

As they neared the outer gates, Li Wuxin's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling from exhaustion and the strain of carrying Xu Moyao. He gritted his teeth against the pain in his legs, against the strain of his muscles begging him to stop, but he couldn't. Not yet.

At the gate, Lan Boxiao turned to him, her voice low, barely a whisper against the chaos around them.

"We're almost out, but I can't leave. You have to go on ahead."

Li Wuxin knew that this moment would come. He could see the guilt in her eyes, but he also saw something else, the unwavering resolve she'd carried from the start.

Her gaze dropped briefly, and she seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat before Li Wuxin spoke.

"Lan Boxiao," he said, his voice hoarse, " You don't have to do this alone. You know that, don't you?"

She looked at him then, her expression a mixture of disbelief and doubt.

"I'm not sure I deserve your trust," she muttered, her voice strained. "Not after everything that's happened. After everything I've done..."

Li Wuxin's eyes softened, his grip tightening around Xu Moyao's still body.

"You deserve it more than anyone else," he said firmly. "And if you think you're not worthy of a second chance, remember that Lu Xiaoquian is still waiting for you. She's waiting for you to come back."

Her face softened at the mention of the name, her features momentarily faltering. Lu Xiaoquian, always the one person who had believed in her.

"Go," Li Wuxin urged softly. "She'll forgive you. You know that."

Lan Boxiao nodded, the sadness in her eyes replaced by something resolute. She drew her sword and, without another word, turned to face the encroaching danger. With not a single glance back, she disappeared with them into the shadows.

They burst through the gate of the fortress.

Li Wuxin's heart raced, sweat chilling on his forehead. The cold night air hit him like a slap, its sharpness stinging his face, but deep within him, there was a fleeting glimmer of hope. They were free. But before he could savor the feeling of freedom, reality quickly set in.

Every breath he took felt heavy with the weight of their situation, every step he made reverberated with the gravity of what still lay ahead. Xu Moyao, lifeless across his shoulders, was still hanging on the precipice of death. And that could not wait.

The journey out of the fortress had been nothing short of harrowing. Every movement had been a battle against exhaustion, a race against time. The sounds of soldiers falling behind them, the shouts and orders that pierced the darkness, it was all just a blur now. But the danger had been real, their escape fragile. There had been no guarantee they would make it out, but somehow they had. Luck, fate, or sheer desperation had played a part.

In that frantic flight, Li Wuxin only had one thought: save Xu Moyao. One thought, one goal, a single straight line toward survival.

When the towering walls of the fortress receded into the distance, swallowed by the night, a strange emptiness surrounded them. The cold of the night seemed to seep into their bones, but it was nothing compared to what they had just left behind. The fortress was now a distant memory, but the road ahead of them was far from safe. They weren't out of danger yet, not by a long shot. Not until they were far enough from the army, and certainly not until Xu Moyao was out of danger.

Li Wuxin forced himself not to look back. The wind bit at his face, carrying the scent of wet earth and pine trees, smells that were familiar, yet they did little to ease the turmoil inside him. With every step, he felt the weight of Xu Moyao, heavy and precarious. His friend, his love. He had no time for anything else, not for doubts.

Lan Boxiao followed quietly beside him. She didn't need words to understand. She knew the situation was far from resolved. But in silence, she offered her support, her footsteps heavy but certain behind him. Their flight had only just begun, and it wouldn't stop until Xu Moyao was safe.

A faint sliver of moonlight broke through the trees, casting strange, dancing shadows across their path. They moved toward a clearing ahead, where Li Wuxin knew his horse was waiting. They had to leave now, quickly, before the sound of their escape spread through the ranks of the enemy. The soldiers would soon realize they were gone and would likely give chase, but in the vastness of the woods, there was a chance, a slim one, a chance that this nightmare will finally be over.

When they reached the spot where he had left the horse, Li Wuxin straightened, breathless from the effort. Still, there was no time to rest. He grabbed the horse's reins. He was careful, ensuring the animal didn't make a sound. The sounds of the forest surrounded them, but none of them were as sharp as Li Wuxin's labored breathing.

He placed Xu Moyao on the horse, his movements firm yet gentle. Every step had to be quick, but precise. He couldn't afford to be careless now. Every motion mattered. They needed to leave immediately.

" Lan Boxiao, the stable isn't far, is it? Go grab a horse and hurry back" ordered, his voice firm but calm, his eyes still fixed on Xu Moyao, who seemed paler with each passing minute. 

The moment Li Wuxin gave a nod, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the shadows of the trees, her cloak billowing behind her. Her footsteps were quick and precise, silent against the underbrush. She knew where the stables were—tucked just beyond the southern ridge of the fortress, half-concealed by thickets of pine and forgotten rock paths. Time was thin. Every moment counted.

The forest loomed around her, but she moved like someone born to its darkness, weaving through twisted roots and low branches without hesitation. In minutes, she reached the hidden stable, where a handful of horses had been tied. She spotted the black stallion immediately

Without ceremony, she untied him, whispered something low to calm him, and swung onto the saddle with practiced ease.

Then she rode.

The horse broke into a gallop the moment her heels touched his sides, tearing through the undergrowth, thundering over roots and stone with fierce determination.

Further ahead on the narrow trail, Li Wuxin moved carefully through the trees, his horse walking at a steady pace. Xu Moyao was still unconscious, slumped gently across the saddle, his limbs cradled as if he were made of glass. Li Wuxin’s focus was absolute, his eyes scanning the shadows, his posture tense with the weight of responsibility. Every sound in the forest made his grip tighten on the reins.

She pulled up beside him, her face flushed from the ride.

“They haven’t given chase—yet,” she said between breaths. “But we don’t have long. We need to put as much distance between us and the fortress as possible.”

Li Wuxin expression softening just for a second. Without a word, they pressed on together, side by side, deeper into the woods—racing the dawn, and the danger that followed close behind.

The sky grew darker as they rode, and they continued until the sun was high in the sky, enveloping the forest in its warm light. 

It was after hours of relentless riding, with the rhythmic sound of hooves on the dirt path and the constant rustle of the forest around them, that they decided to stop. Ahead, nestled in the embrace of towering, ancient pine trees, was a small village, a peaceful haven, isolated from the chaos of the world beyond. The air here felt different, fresh, untouched by the noise of battle. The dense canopy of pines blocked out much of the harsh sunlight, casting long, comforting shadows over the dirt roads. The village itself seemed to hum with a quiet tranquility, a stark contrast to the frantic flight they had just endured.

For a moment, Li Wuxin allowed himself to breathe deeply, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. They had arrived at the heart of the valley, far away from the fortress and the soldiers. Here, in this remote corner of the world, they could rest, regroup without fear of being found.

Xu Moyao was still slumped on the horse, his body sagging with the weight of his injuries. Despite their exhaustion, Li Wuxin's focus never wavered from the task at hand. But for the moment, they had earned this brief respite. A place where they could disappear, where they could finally tend to the wounds.

The journey wasn't over, not by a long shot. But here, in the heart of the ancient pine valley, the world outside seemed a distant memory. Li Wuxin didn't speak, but he knew they would remain there for some time. The time it would take for Xu Moyao to recover. Three months, maybe more. 

The time didn't matter, as long as Xu Moyao pulled through. That was all that mattered.

In the inn, as they settled in, Lan Boxiao spoke up, hesitant. "I'm sorry..."

But Li Wuxin gently interrupted her, his voice calm but unwavering. "No. Don't apologize. You brought us out. You helped save him."

He looked at her, eyes soft but resolute. "We'll stay here. Three months, maybe more, whatever it takes. He needs time, care. And we'll need supplies, medicine, food and bandages. We'll manage it, together."

Lan Boxiao opened her mouth to speak, but the words never came. She held his gaze for a moment, then gave a small nod. There was something in the way he spoke, something kind.

They made their way upstairs, the wooden steps creaking beneath their weight, to drop off their belongings and catch a moment's breath.
The room was small but warm, the scent of old pinewood lingering in the air. They moved quietly, fatigue hanging on their shoulders like a heavy cloak. For a moment, neither spoke.

Then, breaking the silence, Li Wuxin turned toward Lan Boxiao, his tone calm but resolute.

"I'll go into the village and buy everything we need. For now, our priority is Xu Moyao. He can't be moved again for a while," he said.

Li Wuxin cast one last glance at Xu Moyao, still unconscious, his breathing faint but steady. Then he turned to Lan Boxiao.

"I'm leaving him in your care," he said quietly. "I won't be long."

Lan Boxiao nodded without speaking, her eyes already fixed on Xu Moyao.

With that, Li Wuxin slipped out.

When he returned, arms full of herbs and a few essentials, the room was silent. Lan Boxiao had fallen asleep, seated on the floor with her back against the bed. Her knees were drawn to her chest, arms wrapped loosely around them, head resting gently on her folded arms, as if she had stayed awake until sleep simply claimed her.

He let out a soft breath, something close to a smile touching his lips.

 The next few days passed with relative quiet, allowing Li Wuxin to make the necessary arrangements for supplies and medicine. The local villagers were kind and offered help when needed. Life in the High Valley of Ancient Pines was simple, and that was exactly what they needed.

By the third day, Xu Moyao stirred. The first signs of life came in the form of his twitching fingers. Slowly, with great effort, his eyes cracked open, hazy and unfocused at first, but there was a flicker of recognition when they met Li Wuxin's gaze.

Li Wuxin smiled gently, settling beside the bed. He lifted a small bowl of warm soup, the fragrant steam curling in the air between them.

Xu Moyao stirred, eyelids fluttering open. His gaze took a moment to focus, drifting from the ceiling to Li Wuxin's face. There was confusion first, then a flicker of recognition.

"...You're here," he murmured, voice dry and rough like paper.

A breath caught in Li Wuxin’s throat.

“… Xu Moyao?” he whispered, barely daring to believe it.

Xu Moyao blinked slowly and smile.

It was enough.

Li Wuxin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His vision blurred. The knot of tension that had lived in his chest for days suddenly snapped, and tears welled in his eyes before he could stop them.

“You’re awake,” he choked, his voice breaking. “You’re really awake.”

He reached forward, grasping Xu Moyao’s shoulders. Then, without thinking, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.

“I thought we lost you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I was so scared…”

“I’m here,” he murmured, “thanks to you.”

Li Wuxin didn’t respond right away. He simply held on a little tighter, as if trying to anchor them both to this fragile, precious moment of survival.

He pulled back just slightly, enough to look at Xu Moyao’s face. His fingers brushed aside a damp strand of hair from his forehead.

There was a pause, silence settling between them like a blanket.

Li Wuxin reached over to the small table beside the bed and picked up the bowl of soup, the steam still curling gently from its surface."

Li Wuxin raised the spoon"You need to eat something," he said, his voice soft.

Xu Moyao didn't move at first. His gaze lingered on Li Wuxin's face, studying him in that way he always did, calm but full of hidden layers. The air between them thickened, and for a moment, it seemed as though time had paused entirely.

Then, after a beat, Xu Moyao's lips curved ever so slightly. His eyes, still clouded with lingering fatigue, gleamed with a familiar spark.  

One that was only for Li Wuxin, like a private joke shared between them.

"...What if I say I'll only eat if you feed me?" he said, his voice quiet but teasing, 

Li Wuxin raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is that so? Well, in that case..." He gently lifted the spoon to Xu Moyao's lips. "I guess I'll have to spoil you just this once."

A warm, delighted laugh escaping his lips. He leaned forward, feeding him slowly, his hands steady despite the soft blush that colored his cheeks.

"Always the same," Li Wuxin chuckled, his voice soft and affectionate. "You never change."

Xu Moyao smirked faintly. "And you still blush when I tease you."

"Maybe," Li Wuxin replied with a smile.

As Xu Moyao's gaze softened, the moment seemed to stretch, suspended in time. Li Wuxin could feel the weight of everything that had happened, the pain, the danger, the sacrifices. But in this simple moment, everything seemed to fall into place.

"Rest now," Li Wuxin whispered. "We have time."