Chapter Twenty: Entering the Purple Mist Forest for the First Time

Qin Xiaomo finally vented her anger—it was time to leave. After all, the people of the Nether Hall were hunting her, and they must be on their way. Now that such a commotion had erupted, staying at an inn in Desolate City was no longer an option.

She turned her head, saying, “Why don’t you two find somewhere in the city to stay tonight? I’m the one they’re after. If you stick with me, you’ll be in danger too.”

“Miss Qin, we’re just a pair of rough men, ignorant of etiquette, but we know who treats us well! You’re a woman of principle. From now on, the two of us will follow you,” the man with the red birthmark declared his loyalty.

“Good! By the way, I don’t yet know your names.”

“My name is Yu Jiang, but everyone calls me Red Hair,” he announced loudly.

“Yu Jiang, that’s a fine name! And you?” Qin Xiaomo turned to the man with the stoic face.

“I… I’m called Cold Ice,” he replied, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. Clearly, the name had brought him much trouble.

“Do you mind if I call you Red Birthmark and Cold Face?”

“Not at all, go ahead—it sounds friendly,” Red Birthmark said with a broad wave of his hand, reminding Qin Xiaomo of Zhang Fei.

Cold Face rented a carriage, lighting the way with torches, and joined Qian Mubai and the others heading west. Their destination was West Bridge Lake, where the lakeside docks offered rest and scenery, conveniently on the road back to Mirror Void City.

“Actually, a petty man like Wu De, a few chicken legs are enough to leave him miserable for a while. Why did you have to use gold to frame him as well?” Qian Mubai suddenly asked Qin Xiaomo, and Red Birthmark looked at her too, wanting to know. He felt it wasn’t necessary to offend someone as powerful as the Desolate City Lord just for their sake.

Qin Xiaomo lifted the curtain and gazed outside. The sky was filled with stars; insects and birds called in the night. The little white creature on her lap squirmed, seeking a comfortable position to sleep. She stroked its belly, pondering for a moment before saying, “When I was young, I studied the arts. I wanted to attend a school I liked very much, so I practiced hard, harder than anyone else. I was lucky enough to pass the required scores, but in the end, I wasn’t admitted. Instead, a classmate who scored over a hundred points lower than me got in. Do you know why?”

“A school? An academy? Why?” Red Birthmark asked honestly.

“Yes, an academy. Because my family had no money and didn’t properly curry favor with the teachers. That classmate simply sent a box of silver. That was when I realized the importance of money. I learned that even if we have ability, without money, we feel helpless. Often, it’s lack of money that prevents us from blaming ourselves or our families—we just feel weak and useless, enduring unfairness. I nearly gave up my dreams and courage because of it,” Qin Xiaomo’s eyes fixed on the ground, lost in her memories.

Red Birthmark opened his mouth but found no words of comfort.

After a moment, Qin Xiaomo looked up and forced a smile. “See? It’s hard, isn’t it?”

Red Birthmark nodded as if he understood.

“Today, seeing you two humiliated over a bit of silver reminded me of those days. If we truly had no ability, it would be one thing, but to be bullied despite our abilities—how can that stand? Besides, we have this young lady to back us up; it’d be a waste not to rely on her,” Qin Xiaomo said, flattering Qian Mubai.

“May I ask which county this young master hails from?” Red Birthmark clasped his fists in respect.

“Mirror Void County,” Qian Mubai replied, his lips barely moving.

“My apologies, my apologies—these nine cities are all ruled by the old county lord. No wonder the Desolate City Lord is the way he is. Let me tell you, the Desolate City Lord is no easy character: jealous, vengeful, with many petty ways. We’ve truly offended him today; I fear he won’t let it rest,” Red Birthmark said, lifting the curtain to check for pursuers.

Just as he finished speaking, a cold, haunting flute sounded in the night, making the late hour even more eerie. Suddenly, Cold Face tugged the reins, bringing the carriage to a halt and called out, “There’s no road ahead. What should we do?”

“What’s going on?” Red Birthmark jumped out of the carriage to investigate.

Soon, he returned. “Miss Qin, Young Master Qian, there’s a deep ravine twenty meters ahead—so deep you can’t see the bottom, and it’s ten meters wide. The carriage can’t cross it. What now?”

Qin Xiaomo, holding the white creature, and Qian Mubai got down as well. The flute continued, neither near nor far. The carriage was stopped in a narrow purple pine grove, less than two meters wide. The pine trees bore tiny purple glowing beads, like stars scattered across the night sky. Upon closer inspection, these were droplets of crystal dew from the maturing pine cones, which fell to the ground with a “thud” sound. The crystal dew quickly seeped through the cracks of the cones, soaking into the earth, giving the ground a faint purple mist. From time to time, a “thud” echoed nearby, sending chills through the desolate surroundings.

“We’ve reached the Purple Mist Forest. Quickly, move forward. If the purple mist thickens, illusions will appear, and none of you will find your way out,” Qian Mubai warned, frowning slightly.

“But Young Master Qian, there’s a deep ravine ahead—no way forward!” Red Birthmark exclaimed.

“The ravine you see is just an illusion. Do you see the purple mist rising from the ground? It’s thicker now, and the pit seems wider, doesn’t it?” Qian Mubai pointed at the mist.

“It does! And that ‘thud’ sound is getting more frequent,” Cold Face observed, looking around.

Hearing it was only an illusion, Qin Xiaomo felt relieved and asked calmly, “So the flute is an illusion too?”

“That’s real,” Qian Mubai replied, and silence settled over them.

Qin Xiaomo cautiously drew closer to Qian Mubai. While others found joy in wine, her innocence surfaced whenever danger arose. Qian Mubai found her endearing and couldn't help but smile.

“At a time like this, you can still smile?” Qin Xiaomo surveyed their surroundings warily, poking Qian Mubai in the waist.

The touch sent a jolt through Qian Mubai’s body. No one had ever dared treat him like this, especially a young woman yet to be married—it was rather forward.

“Hurry, hurry, let’s get back in the carriage. This place is giving me the creeps,” Qin Xiaomo turned, noticing the white creature had somehow gotten off the carriage, tugging at Qian Mubai's sleeve. She quickly scooped it up and climbed aboard.

“You go ahead, I’ll check up ahead,” Qian Mubai said, not daring to mention that the Nether Hall pursuers were already close, for fear of frightening Qin Xiaomo.

With a leap, Qian Mubai landed in the trees, tapped several branches, and vanished without a trace.

“What agility!” Qin Xiaomo applauded silently, witnessing it firsthand—it was like watching a period drama.

Cold Face was equally impressed. He drove the carriage straight toward the ravine, worried the horse might panic. As they neared the pit, he blindfolded the animal, cracked the whip, and the horse neighed, leaping into the mist-shrouded illusion of the abyss.