Chapter 18 “Don’t Be Afraid, I’ll Stay With You…”

The horse neighed, shaking the forest.

Birds startled from the treetops, leaving fallen leaves scattered across the ground.

A faint glow emerged from the east, dawn mist swirling as daybreak arrived.

Xiao Sheng narrowed his eyes at the narrow path, barely making out a staggering figure in the pale light.

“Shall we pursue, Young Master?”

“The cliff lies ahead. That arrow struck the horse’s foreleg. I doubt my personal intervention is necessary.”

Xiao Sheng paused, then shook the reins. “Let’s go take a look.”

No sooner had he spoken than galloping hooves echoed from the distance.

Xiao Sheng turned toward the sound, his expression instantly shifting.

“H-How is this possible…”

The approaching hoofbeats sounded like death’s trumpet. A figure pierced through the morning mist, radiating killing intent, and in the blink of an eye stood before Xiao Sheng.

Xiao Sheng and his men were immediately surrounded by dark shadows.

His mouth fell open, but before he could speak, Xiao Rong’s sharp sword gleamed silver and mercilessly pierced his shoulder.

“Ugh!”

Face contorted, Xiao Sheng tumbled from his horse. Blood splattered, staining the dew-kissed grass.

With a dull thud, Xiao Rong dismounted smoothly, planting his foot on Xiao Sheng’s chest, his voice cold as ice: “Where is she?”

After only a moment’s wait without response, Xiao Rong twisted the hilt, nearly driving the blade clean through Xiao Sheng’s shoulder.

“Ah!”

Before Xiao Sheng could recover from the first wave of pain, another agonized scream tore from his throat.

“Sir, there are hoofprints on the eastern path.”

Without sparing Xiao Sheng another glance, Xiao Rong withdrew his sword, his expression stern as he swiftly remounted.

On the narrow path, the pounding hooves seemed intent on shattering the earth.

The rising sun cast dappled shadows through layered branches, while plants along the path bent helplessly against the gale-force winds.

Xiao Rong stared fixedly ahead, his view constantly obstructed by passing trees.

Until the path widened, opening into a clear vista.

A jagged scar tore across the muddy ground.

Si Jin lay motionless at the cliff’s edge, a dark red pool of blood spreading beneath her.

Soft afternoon sunlight filtered through the courtyard trees, casting shimmering halos.

Occasional cheerful chatter from street pedestrians drifted into the roadside inn’s room.

Inside, closed doors and windows maintained an atmosphere starkly opposed to the outside world.

A middle-aged man in coarse linen trembled as he withdrew his hand under immense pressure.

“The lady fell from her horse and struck her head, causing the unconscious state. There may be minor injuries I cannot examine, but most blood on her is from the horse. Based on pulse and head trauma, she should be fine—we’ll assess other symptoms after she wakes.”

Though the diagnosis should have brought relief, the room’s tension didn’t ease in the slightest.

The man seated bedside never took his eyes off the pale face, his fingers tracing the wound on her cheek without eliciting any pained response.

After a long silence, Xiao Rong finally stood. “Has he been brought here?”

The guard at the door bowed. “Yes, sir. He’s in the backyard.”

Xiao Rong gently tucked Si Jin’s limp arm back under the covers before turning away, his eyes instantly clouding with icy coldness as he strode toward the rear courtyard.

The humble courtyard lay open beneath the sky, illuminating Xiao Sheng’s pitiful state—collapsed on the ground, drenched in blood. His shoulder wound was severe, and having been dragged here like a prisoner, he hovered at death’s door, barely breathing.

Yet when Xiao Rong’s figure appeared before him, his eyes widened, bloodshot veins threatening to burst, as a surge of terror jolted him back to alertness.

Xiao Rong approached expressionlessly, looking down at him from above. Though he said nothing, his presence felt like a blade suspended overhead, ready to slice him to pieces.

Xiao Sheng, shaken by his own uncontrollable trembling, snapped back to reality. Pain blurred his vision, but he gritted his teeth and rasped, “Xiao Rong, I’m your uncle! I—ugh!”

Before he could finish, the tall figure above suddenly crouched and closed in, a large hand swiftly clamping around his throat with brutal force, as if intent on crushing him without hearing another word.

Xiao Sheng thrashed violently, his face flushing crimson before turning purplish-blue. The agony of near-death made him realize that Xiao Rong hadn’t come to talk—he had come to kill.

No, he didn’t want to die. He had just been released from prison. He was Xiao Rong’s uncle—they were blood relatives!

Xiao Rong narrowed his eyes slightly, watching the man’s desperate struggles with detached indifference, as if admiring a painting that brought him profound satisfaction.

Filthy blood continued to seep from Xiao Sheng’s wounds, staining the scene in dark, gruesome hues. As the struggles beneath his hand intensified, so did the madness in Xiao Rong’s gloomy gaze.

The sensation of flesh twisting under his grip spurred him to tighten his hold.

Xiao Sheng’s eyes rolled back, his mouth gaping soundlessly.

Abruptly, Xiao Rong loosened his grip, as if recalling something, and leisurely asked, “Who sent you?”

Xiao Sheng seemed on the verge of shock; even without the pressure on his throat, he lay listless, unable to catch his breath.

Xiao Rong seized his hair and slammed his head hard against the ground. The pain jolted him back to awareness.

He clutched Xiao Rong’s wrist weakly, unable to pry it off, and gasped urgently, “You’d never guess who wants Si Ming dead. Si Ming is your wife’s brother—let me go, and I’ll—”

The raspy voice grated on Xiao Rong’s ears. Disgusted, he frowned and instantly tightened his grip again.

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. You’re just a fool doing someone else’s dirty work.”

A chill shot up Xiao Sheng’s spine as he clearly sensed Xiao Rong’s sudden, explosive murderous intent.

A suffocating force, stronger than before, seized him, triggering another frantic struggle.

“No, please… Xiao Rong… let me go… If you kill me, you won’t be able to report this to the court…”

Xiao Sheng’s words were nearly inaudible, faint as a dying breath.

Yet Xiao Rong’s icy expression softened slightly, as if pleased by his reaction.

A sinister curve touched his lips, veins bulging on the back of his hand.

“Who said I intend to report this to the court?”

Cruel. Indifferent.

Like a demon from hell, savoring the taste of death.

Xiao Sheng’s face turned from ashen to purple, his eyes wide with terror.

His struggles grew increasingly feeble until his hands hung completely limp, smearing a trail of filthy crimson blood across Xiao Rong’s wrist.

The room was enveloped in nocturnal stillness. On the bed lay an unconscious woman, her eyelids fluttering restlessly, brows slightly tensed as if troubled.

Xiao Rong approached slowly, gradually blocking the flickering light behind him.

His shadow fell over her like a black veil draping across her face.

And her pale, smooth skin.

Xiao Rong’s gaze appeared righteous, merely searching for injuries on her body, yet his throat betrayed him with undisguised thirst, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily.

Suppressing this restlessness brought him unnatural excitement.

Like deliberately caging a ferocious beast, letting it grow parched and hungry, amplifying its desires to the extreme.

His eyes wandered – from her rounded shoulders, to delicate arms, then downward toward her slender waist.

As the physician had noted, Si Jin bore only minor injuries, limited to her arms and calves.

The bruises from impacts stood out starkly against her fair skin. The shallow scratches still oozed droplets of blood, staining the surrounding flesh.

The autumn night grew chilly, and Xiao Rong’s hands, freshly immersed in cold water, were icy to the bone.

He knelt sideways on the bed, gathering the completely unclothed Si Jin into his embrace. His palms touched her skin, drawing warmth from the weakened, unconscious form.

The body against his chest was soft and pliant, unaware and unresisting – like a beautiful doll that would remain forever still in his arms, never to escape again.

Xiao Rong gently took her hand, playing with it in his palm, his murmurs like ghostly whispers: “You see? I told you I’d find you, didn’t I?”

“What will you do when you wake?”

“Keep running, or stay by my side.”

“No matter. I’ll always, forever, be with you.”

The rustle of clothing was slow and gentle. The clean garments and overall dryness seemed to bring comfort even to the unconscious woman.

Si Jin’s brows relaxed, her breathing evening out.

After rolling up her sleeves and pant legs to apply medicine to her wounds, Xiao Rong extinguished the candle and lay down beside her, pulling her into his embrace.

In the depth of night, his pupils remained bright, his gaze greedily lingering on the face so near, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.

Dawn approached in the east, morning breezes whispering softly.

Light footsteps sounded at the door.

Xiao Rong hadn’t slept all night, yet no weariness showed in his eyes.

He reached to tuck the blankets around Si Jin before slowly rising from the warm softness.

Moments later, the door opened.

The physician stood waiting outside.

Xiao Rong stepped aside to let him in, then returned to Si Jin’s side in quick strides.

After checking Si Jin’s pulse and examining the wound at her temple, the physician bowed.

“I dare to ask – are there any serious injuries on the lady’s body?”

“None, only bruises and scrapes.”

The physician’s expression grew grave, his brows furrowing.

Xiao Rong asked, “What is it?”

“Reporting to my lord, the lady’s condition remains as I diagnosed yesterday – not life-threatening nor severe. If she only has external injuries, she shouldn’t logically remain unconscious like this. Yet she hasn’t awakened. In my humble opinion…”

“Continue.”

“The injury to the lady’s head is not merely a superficial wound as it appears, but has affected the inner tissues.”

The room fell into an instant silence, so heavy it felt suffocating.

The physician’s legs immediately gave way, and he dropped to his knees, hurriedly adding, “Spare my life, my lord. The lady is not incapable of waking; she merely requires more time. I will do everything in my power to treat her.”

Xiao Rong calmly lifted his eyelids, casting a casual glance without a trace of emotion in his voice. “I never said I would punish you if she fails to wake.”

The physician’s heart jolted in fear, his spine stiffening, not daring to ponder the implications of Xiao Rong’s words.

Xiao Rong turned his gaze back to Si Jin. The young woman in his line of sight lay serene and untroubled, as if untouched by any suffering. Nestled gently in his embrace, she was unusually docile.

Unable to wake?

He seemed unaware of the faint, pleased curve that had formed at the corner of his lips.

Unfortunately, the physician had not spoken falsely merely to save his own life.

Si Jin did indeed awaken, during the brief moment Xiao Rong had left the room.

As Xiao Rong returned, just passing through the corridor before reaching the door, he heard a familiar voice coming from inside the room.

His expression faltered slightly, and he quickened his pace, reaching the door in a few strides.

Inside the room.

Si Jin huddled tensely in the corner of the bed, her slender frame and pale complexion making her appear exceedingly fragile. Her dark eyes were filled with unease.

The pain in her body made her aware that she was injured.

But everything before her was unfamiliar—she did not even know who she was.

What had happened to her? Where was she?

Who were these people? And who was she?

“My lady, please do not be afraid. I am the physician from the town, and these are your husband’s attendants.”

“No… I don’t know any of you.Si Jin shook her head in bewildered helplessness, her back pressed against the cold wall.

“My lady, you are injured. Please lie down, or I will not be able to answer to the lord.”

“Don’t come any closer!” Si Jin cried out in alarm.

Just then, the door was pushed open from the outside.

Light streamed in, revealing a tall, slender figure at the doorway.

The sound of the door opening heightened Si Jin’s fear. She looked up in panic, and from a distance, her gaze met his, causing her expression to freeze for a moment.

The man was dressed in black, tall and imposing, with strikingly handsome features. His aura was formidable, his gaze sharp and cold—clearly a person of significant status.

By the time Si Jin regained her senses, the unfamiliar man had already strode to the bedside.

She watched as he bent down, lowering his posture and leaning toward the bed. A strange emotion surged within her, though she could not quite name it.

Was it fear?

It didn’t seem so—this man appeared to harbor no ill will toward her.

Was it familiarity?

No, she did not know him, yet the way he looked at her felt vaguely familiar.

The man’s expression was complex—a mix of joy and tension.

More cautious than her own unsettled self, he reached out a hand toward the corner.

Si Jin stared intently at him, observing his eyes fixed on her, then shifting her gaze to his broad palm.

Her body seemed to instinctively want to retreat, but she was already pressed against the wall with nowhere else to go.

Her lips trembled slightly as she asked in a faint voice, “Who are you?”

Having overheard some of the conversation at the door, Xiao Rong still found himself momentarily stunned when Si Jin posed such a question. His mind went blank for an instant.

Following close behind was a rapidly surging undercurrent, crashing wantonly against his mind, clamoring with his base desires.

She didn’t recognize him?

He should have felt pleased by this due to some selfish desire, yet instead he felt a pang of sorrow.

How could she not recognize him?

Si Jin watched the man’s expression grow increasingly peculiar—seemingly sorrowful, yet also ecstatic.

He appeared as if he were about to be overwhelmed by something, looking utterly abnormal.

Si Jin thought she should feel more afraid, but in reality, her heart gradually grew calm.

“You know me, don’t you?” she ventured softly, taking the initiative to speak.

Xiao Rong’s hovering fingers unconsciously curled slightly as he answered hoarsely, “Yes.”

He gazed at her pale, weary face, tear stains still tracing her pitiful cheeks. She huddled in the corner of the bed, knees drawn to her chest, her eyes filled with helpless confusion—yet within that confusion, his reflection remained.

Only his reflection.

Receiving his affirmative answer, Si Jin couldn’t help but ask further, “Then who are you?”

Xiao Rong had once believed that simply being able to watch her forever would be enough.

To have her near, intimately entwined, watching her eternally.

Not long ago, she had been so resistant to him.

Now she met his gaze, her dark pupils holding a trace of anticipation, waiting for him to utter words that could bring her comfort.

During this month of Si Jin’s escape, he had pursued her trail every single day.

Whenever one lead turned up empty, he would immediately search for the next.

He never rested, never grew weary, never once doubting that he would find her.

Yet he never imagined that when he finally found her, she wouldn’t recognize him.

Just like during those over ten years of secretly watching her from the shadows, he had never once ceased his desire to possess her completely—yet he had also never truly believed she would one day belong to him.

Belong solely to him.

Desire knew no bounds, and he reveled in suppressing it in dark corners.

Letting it swell, ferment, letting it gnaw at his bones and blood.

At this moment, it had swollen to its limit.

Xiao Rong’s thin lips parted slightly as he told her gently, “I am your husband. Don’t you remember?”

Si Jin nervously hunched her shoulders, shaking her head in confusion.

Excitement surged in his eyes, but he masked it completely with an expression of sorrow.

Xiao Rong gradually moved his hand toward hers.

As her fingers loosened slightly, his slipped between them, interlocking their hands as he gently drew her from the corner, finally bringing her before him.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll help you remember slowly.”