The journey back to the base was uneventful—something Michael was profoundly grateful for, given the battered state of his body.
After a short but grueling trek, he finally caught sight of the same two guards who had stood watch when he left the outpost a day and a half ago.
Yet, instead of relief, a wave of cold caution settled over him. The presence that had taken control of his body earlier had left behind more than just strength—it had left behind clarity. He wasn't certain, but he had a strong inkling of who was behind the attempt on his life.
And if his suspicion was right, then returning to the base wasn't a reprieve—it was a gamble.
His gaze dropped briefly to the coppergrass tucked into the folds of his torn robes, and his thoughts drifted to Ming Su.
A memory surfaced—Xiao Ren sitting cross-legged by a fire, telling stories to a wide-eyed young girl with a bright smile and a hunger for tales. The memory wasn't his, but the emotion it stirred certainly was.
He clenched his jaw.
Ming Su… no.
But the death squad had known exactly what he was after. That wasn't coincidence. That was a message. A setup.
The idea that Ming Su—his Ming Su—might be involved made something crack inside him. It wasn't just betrayal. It felt like watching a flower he'd tended wilt in poison he didn't see coming.
Though he wasn't really Xiao Ren, those memories had become his. That quiet bond… that fatherly affection—it all bled into him, tangled and indistinguishable from his own identity now.
He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. No more hesitation. No more doubt clouding his focus.
When he opened them, they burned with quiet resolve.
---
Michael didn't approach the gate. Not yet. He circled the perimeter, eventually finding a secluded spot far enough from the outpost to avoid detection, yet close enough to return quickly when the time came. He sat with his back against a tree, Rain laid across his chest, and allowed himself to drift into a shallow rest.
He didn't expect to sleep long.
The sun dipped below the mountains, smothered by the rising dark. Cold crept in with the dusk, wrapping the forest in a familiar chill.
Michael stirred, cracking open his eyes. The cold reminded him of his first outing—just a day and a half ago. It felt like weeks.
Back then, the cold had bitten deep, unbearable. Now, it was just another discomfort. He smirked faintly. What a difference pain makes.
He braced against the tree and rose to his feet. Every joint ached, but he moved with measured purpose. His hand drifted to Rain's hilt every few steps.
He might need her soon.
When the outpost came back into view, he noticed something different. Two new guards stood at the gate—heavier armor, sharper eyes. These weren't the same men from earlier. They scanned the shadows with precision, every muscle coiled like a spring.
Michael's fingers tensed around Rain.
"Let's do this."
He stepped from behind the tree, deliberately entering their line of sight. Both guards reacted instantly, weapons half-drawn—until they saw who it was.
Their expressions faltered.
"We greet the elder!" they barked, fists slamming against their chests.
But behind the salute was confusion. They recognized him, yes—but barely. His torn robes, the dried blood on his face, and the hollow sharpness in his eyes made him look like a ghost.
Michael exhaled silently.
Not everyone's in on it.
He gave them a nod and a brief pat on the shoulder as he passed. No words. No pause.
The base at night was quieter than he remembered. The halls—usually filled with voices, footsteps, the occasional barked command—were now still. Only the guards remained active, patrolling like silent shadows.
Perfect.
He moved quickly but carefully, mentally counting down.
Six hours left.
He turned a familiar corner—and froze.
The infirmary door stood ahead.
It was open.
A dim, flickering glow seeped out from within—candlelight. Unusual for this time of night. Medical staff should've been asleep, and the place empty.
Michael's heartbeat slowed, not sped up. Every instinct screamed.
He stepped closer, footsteps silent.
The scent of herbs and other medicine assaulted his nose, but he ignored it. His eyes were dead set locked on a door at the end of the infirmary.
He passed rows of beds, his eyes scanning every one of them for signs of activity.
Thankfully, they were all empty. In fact, the infirmary was totally empty, something that seemed odd to him.
If not for his danger sense not sending any warnings, he would have felt like things were working too well in his favour.
Reaching the last door, Michael dropped his hand around the handle, before turning it– opening the door.
Inside, Ming Su sat behind her desk, her eyes slightly red, with bags hanging under them. Her previously kept appearance now looked haggard like someone who had gone the last few days without having a proper bath.
The sight made something inside his chest crack.
She removed her eyes from the wall, glancing at the door upon hearing the sound. When she saw who it was, her previously dead eyes gained life in them.
Instead of joy, her gaze held acceptance.
Like a sinner who had already made peace with judgement.
"Ming Su," Michael said quietly, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
She didn't speak. Just watched him–eyes puffy, dark ringed, haunted.
A fragile silence stretched between them. She broke it first.
"You found it." Her voice was hoarse. "You actually found the coppergrass."
Michael didn't answer. He walked closer, his gaze never leaving hers.
A sinking gut feeling growing heavier in him as he saw her appearance.
"I sent you in the wrong direction," she whispered, like confessing to a grave under moonlight. "I thought... I thought the poison would finish what time had already started."
His lips tightened.
"You sent me out there to die... Didn't you?"
She nodded her head.
Her honesty wasn't brave. It was hopeless. She looked at him, regret swimming in her eyes.
Michael stood over her, close enough to see all the emotions behind her eyes, the twitch in her jaw as she forced herself not to look away.
He didn't need Xiao Ren's experience to know the truth.
"He's in on it too... Isn't he." He said flatly.
Her expression flickered to one filled with rage, before settling back to it's defeated from. She sank deeper into her chair before whispering:
"Yes."
Michael said nothing. Just stared.
Her answer revealed his earlier suspicions to be true. At this moment, he truly pitied Xiao Ren.
Killed by two people he considered family!
Memories of how he met Ming Su surfaced.
---
Xiao Ren moved through the crowded streets of Tongzhou, his farmers hat covering his face.
His cloak billowed in the wind as he moved further away from the trade prefecture's economic centre, and deeper into the slums.
He had accomplished his mission, and now it was time to escape and report back to his superior.
Taking a short cut through an alleyway, he came face to face with three men hanging up on a young girl.
They beat her using various tools they could get their hands on, hurling insults at her while doing so.
He stood there, locked in place, silently watching their actions.
'Should I step in?' he pondered, his hand going towards his sword, before pausing.
'no! The mission takes priority.'
Although heart wrecking, he had a mission to complete.
He quickly turned around, ready to continue on his way, when he heard something that made his blood freeze.
"Hold the bitch down, let me relieve myself for a bit."
"I'll go next after you third cousin." Another replied, laughing as he grabbed onto her arms, holding her in place.
The third guy smiled, revealing decayed teeth. "I've never had a young'un this small, wonder how she tastes." He joked, licking his lips.
Xiao Ren turned around, his footsteps quickening as he started at them, now in a full sprint.
He knew this was against his orders to lie low.
He knew he wasn't supposed to do anything as it didn't concern him, but for some reason, leaving such a young defenceless girl to the whims of such trash, didn't sit right with him.
*Tap Tap Tap*
The sound of his footsteps alerted them as they turned around.
"Wha_!" the guy holding her down shouted as a knee crashed into his nose, sending him flying.
Before the other two could react, a silver glint flashed by, slashing the man with decayed teeth throat open.
"Krrghk–" he choked while grasping his throat, falling to the ground in despair.
The last man, whose ragged pants were now at his knees paled as two of his brothers were dealt with in quick succession.
"Wai_" he wanted to beg, when Xiao Ren swung his blade once more, with it his member falling into the ground.
Before he could scream in pain, the same sword stabbed forward, lodging itself firmly in his throat.
The life in his eyes slowly slipped away, his body falling limp onto the floor when the sword was removed from his throat.
Xiao Ren stepped over the dead body, heading towards the man he had slammed his knee into.
The man backed away, blood and snot falling from his nose.
"Please! Please I beg of you spa_" like his brother's, he only saw a slash of silver, before everything went black.
A head toller onto the ground, blood flowed onto the snowy ground, staining it red.
Xiao Ren cleaned the blood on the dead man's cloth, before sheathing his blade.
With his conscience clear, he continued on his way, not bothering to check up on the girl he had rescued.
The sound of snow crunching behind him, alerted his of someone. His hands flashed, his sword drawn, now placed on the person's neck.
The girl who now has a sword to her neck stumbled backward, her body trembling in fear.
"Stay away!" Xiao Ren ordered, his voice cold. His face hidden under the cap, without a scar running across it.
His cold eyes considered the little girls appearance with little sympathy. The bruises and swellings around her body, a testament to her rough life.
He had seen sights like this a thousand times at this point, a testament to the negligence of the emperor to his citizens.
It was because of sights like this that he had to get on his way, so he could further the plans of the rebellion.
Sheathing his blade, he was about to head off when a meek voice sounded out.
"Are you leaving too mister? Are you leaving Xu Er like mummy and daddy did?"
Her soft voice reached his ears, piercing his heart. He looked behind and saw the girl staring at him, tears dripping to the floor.
The sky darkened as snow started falling to the floor.
A snow storm was coming.
Xiao Ren stood there rooted in place, unable to move away.
What was he fighting for?
Wasn't his blade one for the people?
If he just walked away, wasn't he acting like the royal family he and the other rebels detested?
Coming to a quick decision, he turned and approached the girl.
His figure looming large over her, startling her. She saw him bending over. Thinking he was going to hit her, she flinched away, scared of the hit, only to realise after a while that the hit hadn't come.
Instead, something soft had come over her head.
Opening her eyes, she saw a soft straw hat firmly placed on her head, while a handsome young man who looked to be in his twenties stood covering her from the snow storm, a warm smile placed on his face.
"Would you follow me?" He asked.
Xu Er paused, processing what she just heard. Her tears dropped freely this time as the sound of sobbing could be heard.
She dove I to his body, tightly embracing him.
"Yes... Yes I'll follow you."
Xiao Ren held her tightly, accepting her tears and pain.
He then softly whispered into her ears.
"From now on, you're starting a new life... You're name is Ming Su."
---