Chapter Fifty-Five: The Final Step

After slowly closing the door, Su Bai lay back down on the bed, his heart still uneasy.

“Although I now have a source for reinforcements, it’s unstable and the timing is uncertain. Moreover, they don’t know if I’m one of the rebels. If that youngster decides to kill me to claim all the credit, it’s not impossible.”

Tossing and turning, Su Bai suddenly sat up abruptly: “No! I can’t place all my hopes on others. I must do something myself.”

But no matter how he racked his brains, he could find no solution.

Suddenly, Su Bai recalled someone. “Right, how could I forget him! With him by my side, I’ll have a much easier time gaining the trust of the rebel leader. In that case, I can escape before the great battle starts.”

“That means I’ll have to change the original plan. The use of my pawns needs to be re-considered.”

Su Bai gazed deeply out the window. “I treat them as pawns, but am I not a discarded piece myself? When will I stop being a piece on this vast chessboard?”

Since being transported to this world, he was often startled awake by nightmares, frequently pondering whether he was merely a pawn placed here by the player.

If the player wished to retrieve him, he would vanish from this world in an instant.

He lowered his head, clenched his fists tightly. “My fate will be decided by myself; I will never allow others to interfere.”

Everything from his previous life had faded into mist; the death of his parents severed all attachment to his old world. Perhaps the last lingering regret was that woman who left his heart unfulfilled.

Thinking of her graceful figure departing, Su Bai’s expression was dazed for an instant. A shiver brought him back to reality.

He laughed at himself: “Enough. No amount of thought can change anything. I should sleep—there are urgent matters to attend to tomorrow.”

Two flowers bloom, each on its own branch.

Having just escaped from the rebel camp, Zhou Ziheng was gasping for breath as he ran wildly forward.

Only after he was several miles away from the enemy camp did he lean against a tree, breathing deeply.

Before his breathing settled, Zhou Ziheng was already thinking about Su Bai.

“Half of the intelligence that boy gave me I already knew, and he didn’t lie to me. But the rest, I can’t judge its truth. If the information is false, what am I to do?”

“Forget it. I’ll report the intelligence and his situation to my superiors. They’ll naturally send experts to investigate him.”

Having cleared his mind, Zhou Ziheng continued to stealthily return home under cover of night.

A few mornings later.

A group of people surrounded Su Bai’s sickbed; Wen Shan Yuan, the leader of the rebels, was among them. However, the true commander, Tang Jiuyuan, was absent.

After being deceived by Zhou Ziheng, Wen Shan Yuan had tightened security in the camp, especially around Su Bai’s quarters. The number of guards had nearly doubled.

But for Su Bai, this was actually a blessing. He had already sent out his message, so the number of guards mattered little now.

Besides, if Zhou Ziheng disclosed his identity, there would inevitably be people coming to verify it.

Strengthening the patrols also reduced the risk of his exposure.

“Rest assured, General. The young master has improved greatly after these days of care. In a few more days, he will surely awaken,” said Zhang Yuan, who maintained his daily examinations. Su Bai constantly reminded him of his importance.

Upon hearing this, Wen Shan Yuan breathed a sigh of relief. Su Bai was now too important to them.

“Alright. As long as Doctor Zhang cures the young master, we’ll release your granddaughter. The sooner he recovers, the sooner your family will be reunited.”

Zhang Yuan said little, merely nodding and glancing at Su Bai.

Without lingering, he turned to leave. Wen Shan Yuan, sensitive as ever, caught the oddity in Zhang Yuan’s gaze and looked at Su Bai, but after two glances, found nothing amiss. He cast Zhang Yuan a puzzled look and left it at that.

When Zhang Yuan stepped outside, his steps were heavy. He touched his chest, the thin and frail cavity making a faint rustling sound.

He recalled yesterday’s conversation.

Zhang Yuan was busy writing prescriptions, while Su Bai lay motionless on the bed.

Suddenly, Su Bai spoke an unexpected sentence that made Zhang Yuan unable to continue writing.

“Doctor Zhang, do you really think these people will spare you and your granddaughter once I recover?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Zhang Yuan was no fool; he had long realized escape from the rebels was impossible.

But no matter how he pondered these past days, he could find no solution. Report to the authorities? The soldiers trembled at the mention of rebels, and the local magistrates had long been swept aside.

These men were all former soldiers under Su Qing, hardened by years of border warfare, far from the drunken incompetents around here.

Moreover, the Emperor had already sent troops to suppress the rebellion. Even if he found them and provided intelligence, who knew how long it would take to rescue his granddaughter? By then, she might already—

Su Bai heard his question and smiled calmly. “Sir, we are grasshoppers tied to the same rope. I want to escape alive, you want to rescue your granddaughter. In the end, we both seek a peaceful life in the chaos.”

Su Bai sighed deeply. “I am no longer the young lord enjoying comfort in the prince’s mansion, so I understand how hard it is for ordinary people. Now the Embroidered Guards want my life, the Emperor wants to eradicate me, even my own people cage me like a bird!”

His agitation grew, his voice rising enough to be heard outside.

Zhang Yuan quickly covered his mouth. “Young lord, keep your voice down! There are people outside, don’t let the rebels know you’re awake.”

Su Bai blinked to indicate he wouldn’t raise his voice again.

Zhang Yuan nodded and released him, though his trembling hands betrayed his inner turmoil.

Su Bai knew that one more push would convince Zhang Yuan to help him with the final preparation.

So as Zhang Yuan released him, he deliberately rolled over, falling to the ground in a mess.

Then he knelt, tears brimming in his eyes.

“Ah! Young lord, you’ll ruin this old man!”

Seeing the dignified heir of the Su family kneeling before him, Zhang Yuan immediately crouched to help him up, lowering his voice so outsiders wouldn't hear.

“If I don’t kneel to beg my savior now, should I wait until I’m dead?” Su Bai faced Zhang Yuan, enunciating every word.

“Why would you say such things, young lord? This old man can barely protect himself, how could I help you?”

Zhang Yuan was in a panic, already troubled by his inability to save his granddaughter, and Su Bai’s actions left him even more distressed.

“Sir, I have a way to save us both.”

“Is that true?” Zhang Yuan grasped Su Bai’s arms tightly, his trembling hands revealing every bit of his anxiety.

Su Bai inwardly chuckled. “All these days of psychological work weren’t wasted. The old man is finally agreeing.” He seized the moment and laid out his entire plan.

“For now, only you can do this. If you succeed, we’ll both survive.”

Su Bai’s eyes stayed fixed on Zhang Yuan. This man was his lifeline; a single word would determine the success of his escape.

Zhang Yuan frowned, knowing that if they were exposed, he and his granddaughter would face annihilation. But if he didn’t deliver the intelligence, it would be death all the same.

Su Bai said no more, patiently waiting for Zhang Yuan’s answer.

He had said all that needed saying; pressing further would only push the old man away.

Time passed slowly as they stood in stalemate.

“Sigh.”

With Zhang Yuan’s sigh, Su Bai’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Young lord, are you confident in this?” Zhang Yuan’s eyes were bleak and weary.

At his age, he was long past youthful recklessness, steady and cautious by nature.

But faced with the current situation, he could only gamble and follow Su Bai’s arrangements.

“Good!”

Su Bai nodded vigorously, forcibly concealing his smile—he had finally resolved the last obstacle weighing him down.

“Sir, listen closely, my plan—”

Zhang Yuan crouched, listening intently to Su Bai’s words.

Within moments, Su Bai stood up lightly, while Zhang Yuan’s face turned sallow, muttering under his breath, but Su Bai wasn’t curious.

Now Zhang Yuan was aboard his ship, and there was no fear that he wouldn’t help.

Even if Zhang Yuan reported the secret to Wen Shan Yuan and Tang Jiuyuan, it would only bring disaster upon himself. At most, Su Bai would be guarded more strictly.

Zhang Yuan had lived long enough to understand the stakes. Now, whether he wanted to or not, he had to act.

“Sir, I have told you everything in detail. No one else must know; otherwise, both of us and your granddaughter will surely perish.”

Su Bai looked down at Zhang Yuan, emphasizing each word, especially the phrase “will surely perish.”

Suddenly, Zhang Yuan’s withered hands gripped Su Bai’s arm tightly, making Su Bai wince in pain.

Zhang Yuan’s voice trembled. “Young lord, I will risk my life to deliver this letter! But can you guarantee my granddaughter’s safety?”

“What a touching scene, but in this world, it’s nothing but a joke,” Su Bai sighed inwardly.

He knelt on one knee, gently covering Zhang Yuan’s trembling hands with his own, solemnly declaring, “Sir, I swear on the Su family’s century-old honor—I will protect you and your granddaughter!”

“Good, that’s good…”

Zhang Yuan slowly released his hands, finally standing up. He bowed respectfully to Su Bai, dusted off his robes, and strode out the door.

Watching Zhang Yuan’s resolute steps, Su Bai felt a pang of sorrow.

“This is a world that devours people. If I don’t eat the small fish, I’ll be eaten by bigger ones. Sir, I respect you, but I cannot become you.”

No matter how eloquent Su Bai was, he could not deceive Zhang Yuan. The old man acted only to ensure his granddaughter’s safety.

Several dozen miles from the rebel camp, in a city.

At a pancake stall, Wei Mingyuan, clad in tattered clothes, was stuffing food into his mouth.

With his meager martial skills, he had scraped together some silver in the city, and the first thing he did was fill his belly.

He had suffered hunger these past days and finally managed to snatch some loose silver from a young lord’s girdle.

As he ate, he overheard people discussing the current situation, and unconsciously slowed his chewing.

“Life gets harder every day. Who knows when these rebels will finally be suppressed?”

“Exactly. Who knows when the court will send reinforcements? But even if the rebels are dealt with, folks like us will still suffer.”

Hearing his companion’s rather extreme words, the man glanced around, coughed twice, and changed the subject: “Cough, cough, best not talk about this.”

Wei Mingyuan recalled abandoning Su Bai, muttering to himself, “I wonder if he’s dead in the rebels’ hands now. Whatever! Anyone who threatens me must pay the price.”

Wei Mingyuan had never felt a father’s broad arms, then lost his mother’s embrace, surviving to now on nothing but his own ruthlessness.

Since his mother’s death, his only principle was: in this world, only oneself can be trusted; no one else is worthy.

Countless rivals had been crippled by him in the sect competitions, and every time he saw their bloody forms before him, he felt immense satisfaction.

“There’s no way I can return to the Dayan Sect now. Which sect should I join next?” As Wei Mingyuan pondered his future, a stabbing pain shot through his chest and spread throughout his body.

“Ah!” With a scream, Wei Mingyuan convulsed and fell to the ground, watched by many bystanders.

“What…what’s happening?”

The two men who had been talking quickly covered their mouths and noses, scolding, “What bad luck, running into a filthy beggar—who knows if he has some plague. Let’s go! Let’s go!”

The pancake vendor hurriedly grabbed his cash and fled, leaving everything behind.

Within moments, not a soul remained within dozens of meters of Wei Mingyuan.

“Ah!” The pain was so intense it erased his reason, and even his cries for help faded.

A figure stood silently before Wei Mingyuan, blocking out the sunlight, making him vaguely aware of someone nearby.

“Heart-devouring rot poison? This boy’s strength is so low—how did he end up poisoned like this?”

While he muttered, Wei Mingyuan reached out a trembling hand, enduring the agony, his voice hoarse, “Help…help!”

Surprised that Wei Mingyuan could still speak, the man remarked, “Oh? This boy’s willpower is extraordinary, his constitution even better. He is certainly promising. But this poison…ah, consider this his first lesson for becoming my disciple.”

At that moment, Wei Mingyuan heard nothing, his mind consumed by a single thought: I must survive.

“This little one can truly endure. Come now, follow me back.”