Wei dropped to his hands and knees and began to crawl across the narrow wooden suspension bridge, hanging high above the ground.
Below was only darkness and wind.
His palms were torn open. His knees burned. Blood smeared the rough planks and the twisted vines. Dark streaks marked the bridge.
He pressed himself lower. Smaller.
As if that could blunt the assassin's killing intent.
But his humiliation seemed to bring the assassin a deep satisfaction.
The assassin idly turned the bone blade in his hand, as though he were playing with a human heart instead of a weapon.
Wei's chest ached as if something heavy had been placed on it.
The pressure built and built, swelling until it felt as though his ribs would crack apart.
Then, suddenly, the assassin stopped.
He rose to his feet.
He no longer looked at the two figures before him. Instead, he turned sharply and stared into the darkness behind him.
The forest there was pitch black.
Only the wind moved, whining through the trees.
"You. Stay where you are. Do not move!" he barked at Wei.
There was a dryness in his voice.
He began to scan the shadows.
Wei made his decision.
He would not stay there as ordered.
The bridge shook under his weight. Each step felt like setting his foot on a loose stone at the edge of a cliff. The vine ropes swayed in the wind, tugging his body sideways.
At any moment, he could be thrown off and swallowed by the abyss.
He glanced ahead.
Something caught his eye.
Little Butterfly, who had been lying there quietly a moment ago, was gone.
Just now she had been there.
Like she was asleep.
Now she had vanished.
No one had seen her leave.
No one had heard a sound.
It was as if the night itself had swallowed her whole.
Cold sweat burst across Wei's back.
The assassin's breathing grew uneven as well.
"How did you move her?" he demanded, glaring at Wei.
But his eyes were not steady. They flicked sideways again and again.
The one he feared was not Wei anymore.
It was the darkness behind him.
Wei's only thought now was to reach the other side.
"I told you not to move. Are you deaf?" The assassin's voice had twisted, strained.
Wei was calculating.
If he sprinted now, could he reach Chun before the blade fell?
He stopped looking at the assassin.
He fixed his eyes on the distance.
Five meters.
On flat ground he could run that in a blink, even with his eyes closed.
But now he realized something he had always known and tried to forget.
He was afraid of heights.
When he was a child he had once fallen into a well. He had cried in the dark until his throat bled. Since then, the thing he feared most was emptiness under his feet.
And now.
Chun was on the other side.
If he did not go, she would die.
He had thought about surviving.
Just moments ago he had even considered kneeling, begging, clinging to life a little longer.
But when he saw Chun lying there, still and silent, like someone asleep, he understood something with painful clarity.
There are some people you do not measure by whether you can afford to lose them.
If you do not save them, you will see their closed eyes every night in your dreams for the rest of your life.
That would be worse than death.
Five meters.
He drew in a deep breath.
He forced his shaking legs to steady. He tightened his arms around the trunk of the bridge and crawled faster.
He could feel the fibers of the rope grinding and splitting beneath him. Fine snapping sounds traveled up through his bones.
The assassin was still scanning the forest, suspicion written across his face.
But then he noticed.
Wei was getting closer.
All at once his anger focused completely.
"Looking to die."
The bone blade shot towards him.
In the moonlight it flashed white, blinding.
Wei no longer cared if the bridge broke, or the blade coming to him. He lunged forward.
The bridge swung wildly.
The ropes screamed as if about to tear apart.
His foot slipped twice.
But he kept moving.
Even if he fell.
He would fall after seeing Chun.
The blade passed his face with a trace of blood.
The assassin's body froze.
His eyes were fixed on Chun.
His pupils widened.
That was not rage in them.
It was terror.
A faint sound escaped his throat.
As if he wanted to say something.
But no words came.
The next second—
Chun's eyes flew open.
They were clear, sharp, resolute.
She did not hesitate.
She threw her whole body forward with all her strength.
A heavy impact.
The assassin toppled backward like a tree cut clean through.
The back of his head slammed against the ground with a dull crack.
There was no struggle.
No convulsion.
He did not even have time to scream.
Moonlight spilled across his face.
His eyes remained open.
But they no longer saw.
What had just happened?
Chun stood there, stunned.
As the assassin fell, a shadow had appeared behind him.
No one had noticed when it came.
It was tall and thin.
The upper body was like a dried branch.
The lower half wore a black leather skirt.
Yes, a skirt. The kind women wore.
But Chun was absolutely certain this was a man.
He held a strange blade.
The blade curved in a cold arc, pale as frost.
Its edge was like a crescent moon.
And yet it gave the illusion that it could hook away a life in an instant.
The tall, thin figure stood quietly.
He made no unnecessary movements.
Yet a biting chill radiated from him.
As though he had stepped out of a place even darker than the forest.
"Danger."
Wei threw himself forward. His body lifted off the swaying planks. His fingers reached for Chun.
Something was wrong.
Chun, not far ahead, suddenly seemed pinned in place by an invisible force.
She froze there.
The wind swept through the treetops, lifting her loose hair, but her body did not move.
She did not turn around.
It was as if she could not hear.
As if she could not see.
As if her soul had been pulled from her, leaving only a shell standing in the clearing.
Wei's heart slammed against his ribs.
"Chun—!"
No sound came out.
A violent force struck him from the side.
He felt it before he understood it.
His body snapped backward. The bridge ropes screamed. The planks twisted under his feet. For a split second he was weightless—
Then the world broke.
Steel flashed.
A blade cut through the vines.
The suspension bridge split with a sharp, splintering crack.
Wood shattered.
Ropes tore loose.
Wei crashed down with it.
Air vanished from his lungs. The night sky spun above him. Broken planks and snapping vines tumbled around him into the abyss.
He should have closed his eyes.
He did not.
As the bridge collapsed beneath him, as the darkness opened wide to swallow everything, Wei forced his eyes to stay open.
Forced them to find her.
Chun.
Even as he fell.
The middle aged man stepped to Chun's side.
His pace was unhurried.
As though he had known she would not move.
He did not even use force.
He simply lifted a hand and rested it lightly on her shoulder.
Chun's body swayed faintly.
But she did not struggle.
She did not cry out.
She did not look back.
Like a puppet guided by invisible strings, she allowed herself to be led.
Step by step.
Into the dark forest.