Chapter Seventeen: Escape from Certain Death (Part One)

At this moment, Su Bai, still desperately fleeing, felt his heart was about to stop beating. The oppressive atmosphere and overwhelming pressure never ceased to squeeze his spirit. The terror of beheading lay not in the pain of the blade but in the torment of waiting—death drew closer even as one yet lived, and all one could do was scream for help from a corner.

Fortunately, Su Bai had lived more than thirty years; his mental resilience at least allowed him to barely remain calm and think clearly. After running for a while, an acrid stench assaulted his nose—a cesspool lay not far ahead.

“Perhaps I could hide in the cesspit and use the broken bamboo nearby to breathe. Night has already fallen; maybe I could escape this calamity.” But he quickly dismissed his own idea: “There are no other hiding places nearby, and even a fool would know I couldn't have gotten far. I'd be digging my own grave.”

Neither plan would work. Growing more anxious, Su Bai spotted a herdsboy in the distance.

He squinted for a better look—the boy seemed roughly his age and matched his stature. There were no nearby houses; likely just a regular herdsboy, playful and inattentive.

“If I use him to draw others' attention, I might buy myself precious time,” Su Bai calculated silently.

Fatigue gnawed at Su Bai’s resolve, tempting him repeatedly to stop. But he knew: miss this chance, and he might die without a grave. So, squeezing out the last of his strength, he ran ahead to the herdsboy’s path, then collapsed onto the ground.

The herdsboy, seeing a frail figure faint at the roadside, assumed Su Bai was weakened by long hunger and moved to help.

He approached Su Bai timidly, asking in a low voice, “Are you alright?”

But what awaited him was not compassion. Su Bai suddenly sprang up, grabbed a stone with his left hand, and struck the boy unconscious. The blow was heavy, dangerously close to fatal.

Su Bai had no time to check for injuries. Quickly, he swapped clothes with the herdsboy and placed him atop the cow. Then, grabbing a dry branch, he lashed the cow’s hindquarters, sending it charging away with the herdsboy. Su Bai himself picked up the broken bamboo, stared at the cesspit with a hint of hesitation in his eyes, but pinched his nose and stepped in.

Before fifteen minutes had passed, a group of imperial guards clad in night attire arrived. (Not everyone qualified for the prestigious flying fish robes.) Pinching their noses in disgust, they muttered, “What a wretched task—tracking a criminal and ending up with something so repulsive.”

The leader, with sword-like brows and phoenix eyes, was handsome even beneath his face veil.

He spoke coldly to the complaining youths, “Remember, the eradication of the Su household traitors is a plan long prepared by the Commandant. The Commandant himself has subdued Su Qing, and assigned Deputy Commandant Shang, as well as the rising enforcer, Lord Shen.

We’re lucky to encounter the Su heir here; don’t complicate matters. If we capture him alive, it will be a great merit—promotion and honors may follow. But if he slips away under our noses, even if the Commandant spares you, the captain certainly won’t.”

“Captain Liu, that’s unfair. We all serve in the imperial guard; how could we not give our utmost? Are you trying to curry favor with the captain by throwing us under the bus?” The sarcastic jibes provoked Liu Yu’s irritation, his face icy as frost.

Nearby, Sikong Yue, unable to bear the bickering, interjected, “Enough, all of you. Li Wu, why are you always at odds with Brother Yu?”

“Xiao Yue is right. We should focus on finding the Su heir—internal squabbling wastes precious time,” Sikong Feng echoed.

Liu Yu and the others had no choice but to disperse, still unsatisfied. They continued searching for Su Bai’s trace, but found none, as if he had vanished. Liu Yu sent some men to search in different directions, while he and a few others expanded their search outward from the original spot.

Luckily, the broken bamboo in the cesspit didn’t arouse much suspicion. Yet Liu Yu, struck by a thought, barked, “Search the cesspit thoroughly! The criminal may be hiding inside!”

Before he finished, Li Wu jumped out indignantly, “What? You want us to sift through the cesspit? If you want, do it yourself! I’ve endured enough of your nonsense; this is too much! Don’t make me report you to the captain!”

“Brother Yu, maybe you’re overthinking. He’s just a nine-year-old child, with only Li Siguo to teach him—how could he have such presence of mind?” Sikong Feng, the mediator, stepped forward again.

“No! You haven’t seen that child—he’s a disaster waiting to happen. The Commandant planned this for ages, ensuring no survivors.

Yet this brat saw through it all. The steadiness in his eyes was what set him apart—so calm, calmer than any of us could manage. So today, we must seize every opportunity; a moment’s negligence and he’ll escape.”

He strode to the cesspit, drew his embroidered spring blade lightning-fast, and thrust it into the muck—by chance, the first strike pierced Su Bai’s left arm.

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Fortunately, the filth masked the blood, but the pain at the wound was unbearable, likely to fester. Without medical attention, death was inevitable.

In the cesspit, Su Bai clenched his teeth, a loose baby tooth ground to fragments, blood and filth flooding his mouth. He knew he was at death’s door—if he faltered, it would all be lost. Despite the stabbing agony, Su Bai forced himself to suppress his breathing.

Just as Liu Yu was about to thrust again, someone ahead shouted, “A cow has been found up front, with a child matching Su Bai’s description. The clothing is finer than a herdsboy could afford… Hey, Brother Yu, where are you going?”

“Go check immediately,” Liu Yu sheathed his blade and ordered the others.

He then turned to the messenger, “Lead the way. We must see that child—perhaps he’ll reveal something.”

“Yes, sir!”

When Liu Yu and his men reached the herdsboy, he sensed something amiss.

Sikong Yue and the others wore grave expressions, and seeing the bloodied herdsboy, Liu Yu understood at once.

Sikong Yue approached, somber, “This child has died from intracranial bleeding.”

“Did he say anything—about the Su heir?” Liu Yu asked urgently, gripping Sikong Yue’s shoulders, provoking Sikong Feng’s displeasure.

Sikong Feng stepped in, pried Liu Yu’s hands away, and said coldly, “Ahem, Captain Liu, mind your manners.”

Liu Yu shot him an annoyed glance—he was simply desperate for Su Bai’s whereabouts, but Sikong Feng was overly sensitive. Rumor had it the siblings’ bond was more than familial…

Liu Yu let it pass and pressed Sikong Yue for answers. Yet the response disappointed him: the child remained unconscious, giving no useful information before death.

As frustration mounted, Liu Yu suddenly clapped his hands, startling everyone.

“Brother Yu, what’s happened?” Qi Yu, always by Liu Yu’s side, probed.

Liu Yu didn’t answer, but sprang up, declaring, “Return to the cesspit immediately! That brat may have lured us away! Hurry, hurry!”

He half-shouted the last few words, sprinting toward the cesspit, muttering, “Such cunning—almost let you escape.”

He understood Su Bai’s ploy but was still a step late, forced to wait at the cesspit for the others.

Once everyone had gathered, Liu Yu explained, “He used the herdsboy as a decoy, knowing he couldn’t outrun our search. I boldly guess he just crawled out of the cesspit. Search within thirty li—his trail must be found.”

Those who had refused to search the cesspit felt embarrassed, but Liu Yu’s words renewed their hope. They replied, “Understood, Brother Yu. Even if he grew wings, he couldn’t escape our grasp.”

Watching the imperial guards depart, Liu Yu smirked: “You’ll still end up in my hands, boy.”

Indeed, Su Bai now staggered along the road, wounded. “With this stench, anyone with a nose will find me. I must wash it off—or my wound will fester and I’ll be exposed. If I remember right, I once heard waterfall sounds in the bamboo hut; water can’t be far. I’m hungry, and I don’t know which wild fruits are safe. Climbing trees in my state would be overexertion. I’ll just take it step by step—first, to the waterfall.”

As expected, after walking about a li to the right, he heard water. Hope renewed his steps; suddenly, a torrential rain struck, thunder and lightning setting the night ablaze.

The lonely boy stumbled on, finally reaching the water’s edge with the last of his strength. He waded in as the rain raised the water above his waist.

Unable to hold back tears, Su Bai pressed his face into the water, unwilling to let the gods witness his weakness. Lightning flashed, and he raised his head, roaring at the heavens and thunder: “If I, Su Bai, survive this ordeal, I will grind you all to dust!”

After washing, he picked up his filthy clothes—then a sly smile flashed in his eyes: “If they’re useless, let them serve one final purpose! A gift for the imperial guards.”

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Ignoring his pain, he scattered his clothes throughout the bamboo forest, arranging them on branches to mimic accidental exposure.

He hid tightly among dry grass, not daring to move. Only when he saw Liu Yu did he exhale in relief: “They’ve taken the bait.”

Liu Yu eyed the tattered clothes, cold light flickering in his gaze. The clothes bore obvious blade marks—he must have wounded Su Bai at the cesspit, though not fatally.

He picked up the foul-smelling garments without hesitation, mockingly, “Does this brat think we’ll fall for the same trick again? He’s still a naive child. Which direction are you searching?”

Liu Yu glanced sidelong at Li Wu, refraining from sarcasm—the mission mattered most now.

Li Wu, knowing he was in the wrong, kept silent, sulking behind the others.

Someone answered, “Southeast.”

“Exactly, southeast. There aren’t many sects that would shelter him, likely only fringe demonic cults. And there’s only one in that direction.”

“The Demon Moon Sect!” everyone exclaimed.

Liu Yu, as if knowing all, commanded, “Go immediately to the main road leading to Demon Moon Sect. The rest search the southern paths. We’ll converge and trap him—let’s see if he escapes again.”

Su Bai, hidden in the grass, controlled even his heartbeat and breath—he knew how strong those at the Focused Spirit realm were. Any abnormal breath or heartbeat, and they would sense him. Even eight legs wouldn’t save him then.

He exhaled in relief: “Finally escaped their pursuit! If only he hadn’t overthought, I wouldn’t have gotten away.

Now, I must decide my next steps. Homeless, I need a faction to depend on. Major sects recruit disciples young for their malleability. My age is still acceptable, but without an introducer or token, entry will be hard.

If I join a gang, no tedious procedures—but with my strength, I’d be devoured to the bone. Demonic sects are far too dangerous to risk.

Thus, my choices are few; the best would be Canglan, one of the Four Great Academies. But as a neutral party, Canglan wouldn’t risk offending the imperial guards for me. Few have seen my face, but the guards have—my portrait will soon be drawn. If I want to avoid trouble…”

Su Bai’s handsome brows knitted. He had a plan, but hesitated. After internal struggle, he resolutely went to the stream, found a sharp stone and a dry branch.

Gazing at his reflection in the water, Su Bai steeled himself: “It’s just a shell—if I lose my life, all is lost!” He bit the branch, pressed the stone to his face, and began to cut.

Though prepared, the searing pain forced him to stop repeatedly. Whenever he thought of abandoning the disfigurement, the ruthless faces of the imperial guards flashed in his mind.

He bit harder on the branch, enduring the inhuman agony. The wood bore two deep rows of teeth marks, sweat and tears mingling as they ran down his cheeks.

At length, his small hands fell limp, rough breaths escaping, and the branch dropped from his mouth. Blood flowed from his face, dripping from the stone onto the rock below.

Seeing the bloodstains, Su Bai frowned: “These marks could reveal my trail—I can’t let them find me.”

No matter how he washed, the uneven stone still held traces of his blood.

He wanted to erase all evidence, but couldn’t waste too much time. Penniless, without a mount, if the guards caught on, it would be disastrous.

Thus, enduring agony in his arm and face, he pressed onward.

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