How Can I Yield to the Traitor! - Chapter 8

Qi Zhan shook out his wet hair. Stepping onto the bank, he took the coarse cloth towel Fu’an handed him to dry his body. He changed into a set of gray, patched men’s clothing and haphazardly tied his damp hair back, revealing a smooth forehead and a clear, handsome facial structure.

Though he was still striking, the feminine softness was gone, replaced by the crisp, heroic aura of a young man.

“From now on, call me Young Master,” Qi Zhan corrected Fu’an. His voice had returned to its original clear tone, though it was still a bit raspy from his recent ordeal. “There is no ‘Highness’ anymore.”

“Yes, Young… Young Master.” Fu’an adjusted to the new title, though he still looked deeply worried. “Where do we go next? The Wei army is almost here, and I heard the State of Yan is stirring restlessly at the borders…”

Qi Zhan tied his sash and gazed at the flowing river, his eyes somewhat vacant.

Where to? The world was vast, yet there seemed to be no place for them. Looking back toward Linzi, thinking of the land about to be ravaged by war again and the helpless people, he felt a suffocating tightness in his chest.

He had transmigrated into the body of Qi Zhan. This identity made it impossible to deny his responsibility that was his country, those were his people. Even if the throne was a “hot potato” shoved into his hands, and even if he had never planned to carry such a heavy burden, witnessing its total collapse and seeing the citizens become lambs for the slaughter filled him with a sense of powerless sorrow.

But he could barely save himself. What could he do? Reclaim the kingdom? That was a fool’s dream. Save the people? He was unarmed, with only a single servant by his side.

“Xie Gebai…” Qi Zhan murmured the name with complex emotions. That man was blinded by hatred and acted with such cruelty; he appeared to have conquered the Qi lands, but in truth, he had planted countless seeds of resentment and mired himself in a swamp. Now, withdrawing was a way to cut his losses, but he was leaving a massive mess for whoever came next.

As for Qi Zhan himself, escaping Xie Gebai’s grasp by a stroke of luck was his greatest fortune.

“We’ll leave this place and head south,” Qi Zhan decided, shaking off his heavy thoughts. The southern regions were mountainous, making it easier to hide, and further from the State of Chu, putting him outside Xie Gebai’s immediate sphere of influence. “We’ll find a small village to stay in temporarily and gather more information.”

Master and servant avoided the main roads, sticking to remote paths and the edges of the forest. Once his hair dried, Qi Zhan tied it up with a cloth strip and smeared his face with dirt to avoid drawing attention.

As they walked, they encountered groups of refugees fleeing in the same direction. The people looked terrified, dragging their families along and whispering horrifying rumors about the approaching Wei army and the final looting by Xie Gebai’s retreating troops.

Qi Zhan kept his head low, blending into the crowd. Listening to the fear and despair in their voices, his heart grew heavier. After half a day of walking, as the sun began to dip toward the west, they spotted a dilapidated small shrine to the Land God.

The shrine was in ruins, but it provided shelter. Some other refugees were already resting inside. Qi Zhan and Fu’an found a corner to sit and quietly shared their remaining dry rations. Nearby, a woman holding a child was weeping quietly, saying her husband had been snatched by the Chu army to haul grain and hadn’t returned. His fate was unknown.

Fu’an felt a pang of sympathy and quietly wiped his own tears. Qi Zhan watched in silence, his fists clenched so hard his nails dug into his palms.

Suddenly, a chaotic gallop of hooves and arrogant shouting erupted outside the shrine!

“Everyone inside, get out!” “The military is requisitioning this place! Move it!”

The refugees inside panicked. Qi Zhan’s heart tightened as he peered through a broken window. Seven or eight riders in mismatched leather armor looking neither like soldiers nor bandits blocked the entrance. They were fierce-looking men, likely deserters or local thugs taking advantage of the chaos to loot.

The leader, a man with a scarred face, jumped off his horse and barged in with a blade drawn. His greedy eyes swept over the shivering refugees, lingering on the few women and those who looked like they might have food.

“Hand over everything valuable and all your food! Or my blade won’t be so polite!” the scarred man roared.

The refugees scrambled back. Some begged for mercy, while others frantically handed over their last few copper coins or scraps of bread.

Qi Zhan realized things were going south. He tried to pull Fu’an deeper into the shadows. However, even with a dirty face and coarse clothes, his exceptional features made him stand out. The scarred man’s eyes swept over him and immediately noticed the “disguise.” A look of lecherous surprise flashed in his eyes.

“Oho! I didn’t expect this dump to be hiding such a pretty young lad! I could get a great price for you!” He laughed and stepped toward Qi Zhan.

Fu’an was terrified and instinctively shielded Qi Zhan. “Military lord! Please have mercy! My Young Master…”

“Get lost!” The scarred man kicked Fu’an aside and reached for Qi Zhan.

Qi Zhan turned pale, his heart racing. Had he just escaped the tiger’s den only to enter a wolf’s lair?

At that exact moment, the thunderous sound of hooves approached, shaking the ground and instantly breaking the small-scale chaos. The scarred man’s filthy hand froze in mid-air, his lechery replaced by sudden alarm. He and his companions turned toward the road.

At the end of the path, dust was flying. A squad of cavalry in bright, polished armor and flying banners was charging toward them at high speed.

“It’s… it’s the Wei army! The Wei vanguard scouts!” one of the men behind the scarred leader screamed in terror.

These deserters were bold enough to bully civilians, but facing elite scouts of a regular army especially the famously fierce Wei army they were nothing but dirt.

“Dammit! How are they here so fast!” The scarred man cursed, no longer caring about Qi Zhan. He yanked his hand back and shouted to his crew, “Run! If we’re caught, we’re dead!”

The group scattered like startled birds, vanishing into the tall grass by the roadside.

Qi Zhan’s heart also tightened. The State of Wei! They arrived so quickly! He quickly helped the fallen Fu’an up. Ignoring his own pain, he whispered, “Quick! We need to hide too!”

The two scrambled into the thickest bushes by the road, holding their breath and pressing themselves against the earth, trying to silence even their own heartbeats.

The squad of about a dozen Wei scouts thundered past like a storm. They didn’t seem to notice the brief drama at the shrine or the hidden figures; their mission was to scout the road and the enemy ahead. They had no interest in common refugees or a few deserters. The sound of hooves passed like heavy rain and quickly faded, leaving only a cloud of settling dust.

Only when the silence returned did Qi Zhan and Fu’an dare to raise their heads. They looked at each other, lingering fear visible in their eyes.

“Y-Young Master, that was close…” Fu’an’s voice was still shaking.

Qi Zhan was equally shaken. For a moment, he thought he was lost. He hadn’t expected the arrival of his pursuers to accidentally save him from the immediate threat. But this brought no comfort. The Wei vanguard was here, which meant the main army was right behind them. This land was about to plunge into even greater fire. They had to move faster.

“We can’t stay here. Let’s go!” Qi Zhan pulled Fu’an up. He didn’t even care which direction they went; he just wanted to be away from that dangerous road.

He knew they couldn’t rejoin the refugee flow. After the earlier incident, the others would avoid him, and a large group would only attract more bandits. Qi Zhan gritted his teeth, ignoring the blisters on his feet and the ache in his body, and led Fu’an into the dense forest.

The main road and the refugees were off-limits now; the look in that scarred man’s eyes had left a deep scar of fear. In this lawless world, beauty was a curse, a root of calamity.

The mountain forest was rugged and overgrown with thorns, making it much harder to navigate than he imagined. Rough branches tore at his clothes and left small bloody scratches on his skin. Fu’an, being younger, was panting heavily and struggling to keep up.

“Young Master, I… I really can’t walk anymore…” Fu’an leaned against a tree, out of breath.

Qi Zhan himself was exhausted. Looking back, their trail was covered by layers of trees, and the noise of the road was gone, replaced only by the rustle of wind and the chirping of unknown birds. He took a deep breath of the earthy air and forced himself to stay calm. “Rest for a bit. We should be safe here for now.”

They found a large, dry rock to sit on. Qi Zhan took out the crushed rations and gave the larger portion to Fu’an. “Eat. Keep your strength up.”

Fu’an accepted it gratefully and began to wolf it down. Qi Zhan took small bites, though it tasted like wax. He looked at his hands once pampered, now covered in small cuts and dirt and a sudden wave of bitterness and absurdity hit him.

He had lived a good life in the modern world. With his face and his intelligence, he was always the center of attention. When had he ever suffered like this? He had transmigrated into a “game over” scenario, spent his days terrified and pretending to be a woman, and after finally escaping, he was almost sold by deserters. Now he was hiding in the mountains like a wild man eating dry bread.

His nose stung, and his eyes grew hot. He quickly looked up, blinking fiercely to force back the tears. What are you crying for? Who is there to see? In this dog-eat-dog world, tears are the most useless thing you own.

Fu’an noticed his mood and asked tentatively, “Young Master, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Qi Zhan’s voice was raspy. He forced down the last bit of dry biscuit, stood up, and brushed the debris off his clothes. “Once you’ve rested, we move. We need to find a place to stay the night, hopefully near water.”

He couldn’t stop, and he couldn’t look back. No matter how hard it was, he had to survive.

However, just as they prepared to move deeper into the woods, a faint sound different from the wind or birds came from behind them. It was the sound of hooves treading on fallen leaves, and the subtle clink of metal armor.

Qi Zhan froze. He grabbed Fu’an and dove behind a massive ancient tree, holding his breath. The sound grew closer and clearer. It wasn’t a large group, but the steady, rhythmic pace told him these weren’t the rabble of deserters from earlier.

Had the Wei scouts entered the forest?

An even worse thought flashed through Qi Zhan’s mind, making his hands and feet turn icy cold. It couldn’t be Xie Gebai’s men, could it? Did he actually send people after me?! The army is retreating, yet he’s sparing troops to hunt down an insignificant female dependent?

Through the gaps in the leaves, he could see several sturdy warhorses moving through the trees. The riders wore familiar black light armor, their sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. The leader, with a tall build and a cold, handsome face who was it if not Xie Gebai!

They had actually tracked him here! And judging by their direction, they were heading straight for the spot where they had just been resting!

Qi Zhan’s heart instantly sank to the bottom.

It was over.