Her eyes first landed on Li Ce's impeccably fastened round-collar robe, then trailed down to the smooth, fair skin of his neck, the faint tremor of his Adam's apple, the sharply sculpted jawline, and finally, his tightly pressed thin lips and gently closed eyes. His chin rested upon Ye Jiao's shoulder, arms limp at his sides—he had lost consciousness. Just like before, after prolonged exertion, his body gave in, overwhelmed with exhaustion.
Worry tightened Ye Jiao's chest, but she could do nothing more than hold him close and gaze into the distance. The guards brought by Prince Su, Li Long, had already fallen under a rain of arrows. Li Ce had shown no mercy to his brother. An arrow had pierced Li Long's shoulder, and as he tried to flee while fending off attacks, he was swiftly captured by the men Li Ce had summoned.
"Who do you serve?" Ye Jiao asked, knowing Li Ce had neither residence nor many retainers.
"We serve the Prince Zhao's household," they replied.
Prince Zhao… Ye Jiao recalled Li Jing, the eccentric who once treasured a Taishan stone like a priceless gem—perhaps he could be trusted. These guards looked sturdy and disciplined, their movements fierce and decisive, clearly elite soldiers.
With Liu Yan gravely wounded and Li Ce unconscious, only Ye Jiao could take command.
"Tie up Prince Su," she ordered calmly. "Divide yourselves into teams of three—two to carry the wounded, one to stand guard. Rotate mid-journey and evacuate at once."
They had to move quickly, avoiding the wildfire, and seek timely medical aid to minimize casualties. To her relief, the men obeyed without question.
Only then did Ye Jiao gently set Li Ce down and called out, "Immortal Wang, I must trouble you to heal him."
Immortal Wang circled around Li Ce once, then took a step back.
"Heal him? I am no physician," he said, raising his empty hands—there was no medicine box in sight.
Indeed, he was not a doctor, but the renowned immortal of Mount Li, the very one Ye Jiao had searched for so long.
"Then…" Ye Jiao ventured, "it is said that you can refine qi, commune with the cosmos, and see through life and death—is this true?"
"He will not die today," Immortal Wang replied at once.
"I know he won't," Ye Jiao said, a touch of urgency in her voice. "But you can refine pills. Couldn't you give him one?"
"No," he snapped. "My pills are for those destined to ascend. Do you wish to become immortal, young lady? You and I are fated—if you desire it, I can guide your path to immortality."
Immortality… Ye Jiao's temper surged, yet she forced herself to remain composed. "This man is my friend, also the current Prince of Chu. If you can save him, no matter what you ask, someone will fulfill it."
What she could offer, she would. What she couldn't, she'd beg the Emperor for—one way or another, it would be done.
Only then did Immortal Wang crouch down. His eyes sparkled with anticipation as he rubbed his palms together.
"Then… can I become immortal?"
Immortality again? Was that all he ever thought about?
Ye Jiao's expression stiffened, a fire of irritation burning in her chest.
He still wore her silk shawl around his neck. While others fled in panic, he had been well protected. She had risked her life to shelter a fool. Yet despite his naive words, his features were clear and his bearing refined. He didn't look like an idiot—but every word from his mouth invited a punch.
She remembered the tears the smoke had forced from her eyes, the cuts on her hands from brambles, and her fury brimmed over.
"Give me back my shawl!" she demanded sharply.
He began to unwind it slowly, still pestering, "Truly now, can you help this poor priest ascend?"
Ascend your damn self! Ye Jiao yanked the shawl, and he tumbled backward with a startled yelp.
A voice called from afar, "Master! Master!"
It was Lin Daozhen from Qingyun Temple, dragging a bound Zhang Li behind him. Upon seeing Ye Jiao about to strike Immortal Wang, he panicked.
"Heavenly blessings! One must not mistreat a Daoist immortal!" he cried.
Immortal? Ye Jiao stared coldly at the man still seated on the ground.
He was the so-called immortal who hid in a tree, survived only because she shielded him, and now refused to help unless promised immortality.
"Is he truly your master?" she asked Lin Daozhen.
"But of course!" Lin answered proudly. "I have devoted myself to the Dao, and honor my master as I would my father. If not for his teachings, how could I have apprehended my own cousin and delivered him to the capital authorities?"
Ye Jiao's fury ebbed somewhat. So this so-called Immortal Wang had a touch of reason. No wonder Liu Yan had managed to locate Zhang Li—it seemed these two Daoists had turned themselves in.
"I'm curious," Ye Jiao said. "How did your master convince you to tie up Zhang Li?"
Zhang Li stood stiffly, scoffing with scornful eyes.
Lin Daozhen replied with utmost reverence, "He said—only then could I achieve immortality."
Immortality again!
Ye Jiao nearly exploded. She said no more. Instead, she gathered Li Ce into her arms and instructed the others to snap branches, bind them with the shawl, and make a makeshift stretcher.
They had to get him back quickly. The imperial physicians could at least stabilize his condition.
Immortal Wang did not return to Qingyun Temple. Instead, he muttered to himself, "With so many dead, someone is bound to seek rites for the deceased. No need for them to summon me—I shall go of my own accord."
Ye Jiao followed close to the stretcher, scoffing, "And will performing rites lead to your immortality?"
"No," Immortal Wang stepped around a broken sword and replied earnestly, "but it will earn me the offerings of the people."
So it was all about making money. Ye Jiao tucked Li Ce's dangling hand back onto the stretcher, tempted to punch the Daoist.
But before she could, she felt a tug at her sleeve.
Li Ce had awakened.
He lay weak and dazed, eyes half-open, saying nothing. But his hand reached out and clutched her sleeve tightly.
His grip was anxious yet docile, like a lost soul finding his way home, afraid she might vanish.
Gone was the usual wariness in his sharp mind. In this moment, he was like a child, full of trust, clinging to the one who had stayed by his side.
Ye Jiao let him hold on. She soothed him softly, "Sisi, don't be afraid. I'll take you home and make you well again."
She briefly grasped his wrist. Though the touch lasted but a moment, her warmth passed through to him.
"Jiao… Jiao…" Li Ce murmured her name with a faint smile, as if in a dream.
The events at Mount Li had shaken the entire court.
Liu Yan had sealed the mountain in search of fugitives, only to be attacked by Prince Su, who tried to silence witnesses and set the forest ablaze. Ye Jiao had climbed the mountain to find medicine, saved Liu Yan at the brink, and defended him with valor. Immortal Wang divined the path to survival and revealed the truths of life and death. Prince Chu had scaled the peak in search of Ye Jiao, risking his life to thwart Prince Su and save them all.
Each of these events could fill volumes of storybooks—embellished with filler scenes and minor twists, they'd provide endless tales for days.
The impact was not limited to the court. The people were abuzz, and storytellers throughout the capital leapt at the opportunity to spin these tales into legends.
Suddenly, every person involved became the talk of the city.
Outside the Capital Prefecture, concerned citizens brought offerings of fresh poultry, asking for updates on Liu Yan's health.
"Please let the magistrate know—we're merchants from East Willow Alley, third house," they said with heartfelt concern.
At Qingyun Temple, Immortal Wang had received more offerings in three days than he could store.
"Please, Immortal Wang, take this. Please, tell me—when will my husband die? Not that I wish for his death, of course—it's just good to know, so I can prepare."
Even the usually deserted Duke's residence now welcomed a stream of visitors.
"Is Miss Ye at home? Though she narrowly escaped death, the Emperor will surely reward her. We must remain in her good graces…"
As for Prince Zhao, Li Jing, he boasted repeatedly that it was he who provided Li Ce with the means and manpower to stop Prince Su's crimes.
"All thanks to my help," he would say on court.
The Emperor raised a brow. "Oh? Are you so well-paid that you can afford such a private army? Look at Xiao Jiu—he can't even manage an errand without borrowing your men."
Li Jing immediately fell silent, full of stifled grievances.