Rejected Beauty Practices the Villain Play
Chapter 115: Showing Weakness

Chapter 115: Chapter 115: Showing Weakness

Xie Xun didn’t have time to question the guards about why they allowed passage for a group that clearly included women, nor to ask about the transit documents. Once inside the city, Lian City had six gates in total. Without hesitation, Xie Xun headed toward the North Gate in pursuit. By the time he arrived, the gates were just about to close. Xie Xun stopped the gate guards to inquire about people leaving the city.

The Beiman group, over ten tall and sturdy individuals, all on fast horses and highly conspicuous, had indeed left through the North Gate. Xie Xun handed Zhuifeng over to the gate guards, instructing them to tend to the horse carefully, then borrowed another fast horse to continue the chase beyond the gate.

Zhuifeng was a thousand-li horse, with unmatched endurance and speed. However, in the forest, it had been injured by thorns. Sensing his horse’s pain, Xie Xun paused halfway to remove the thorns.

Unable to find a replacement horse along the way, Zhuifeng bore the pain and pushed on in pursuit, though they ended up falling behind by the span of an incense stick’s burning time.

By nightfall, tracking became difficult. Knowing they were Beiman, Xie Xun focused on following the direction toward Ningzhou. As they galloped non-stop, they would inevitably need to rest. Humans tire, and horses require feed and water. Xie Xun was convinced he could catch up.

This kind of long-distance chase was a test of endurance.

Fengyu was jolted awake in the middle of the night. Seeing how delicate she appeared, one of the Beiman youths worried she might die from the rough ride. He pulled her into another position, seating her in front of him on the horse with one arm encircling her waist. The effects of the drug wore off, and Fengyu, awakened by the jolting ride, felt waves of nausea surging in her stomach. She wanted to vomit but couldn’t. Born into luxury, she had never endured such an extended ride on horseback. Her legs were chafed raw and excruciatingly painful, the cold wind slicing like blades across her tender skin. Fengyu felt wretched all over.

But she didn’t panic, cry out, or try to resist and escape. Instead, she shut her eyes and feigned unconsciousness. Unless she couldn’t suppress her vomiting, she wouldn’t make a sound.

She had no intention of making futile moves. Struggling, crying out, or injuring the Beiman youth would only result in falling from the speeding horse—her neck would snap, and she’d die an unjust death.

As a hostage, her duty was to be obedient and avoid causing trouble for her captors.

When the group of strong men held up a portrait asking if she was Feng Shu, Fengyu immediately realized they were after her elder sister. She had no idea how they acquired the portrait of her sister. When the novice monk outside the temple doors called her "Miss Feng," they mistook her identity. Fengyu chose not to deny it. Even if she denied it, they might not believe her. Their accents were northern, their words were archaic, and they were towering in stature—she inferred they were Beiman. She had no idea where they got the portrait, but she surmised their target was Feng Shu, likely due to Xie Zhang killing the Beiman King. Even if she denied her identity, they wouldn’t spare her, and they might search the city for her sister instead.

Feng Shu was a person for whom Fengyu would lay down her life without hesitation.

The Beiman... why wouldn’t they kill her? Why bring her to Beiman?

If they sought revenge on Brother Xie Zhang, they could’ve killed her right away. Why insist on taking her to Ningzhou? Struggling with the jolting ride, the iron-like grip of her captor’s arm felt as if it would snap her waist. Fengyu gritted her teeth, enduring. The group ran through the night without resting!

Fengyu wondered silently—could they be bribed with money?

How proficient were these Beiman in Yanyang dialect? Could she negotiate effectively with them?

How could she escape? Amidst the jostling ride, Fengyu wracked her brain for a way out. Aside from removing the Soul Suppressing Pearl, was there any other option?

Forget it. Perhaps she’d wait for the Young Marquis to arrive.

If he somehow survived, he could forgo the fifty thousand silver taels he owed her. Surely, the Young Marquis would be willing to risk his life for such a sum.

As dawn broke after their overnight journey, a faint light spread across the sky. Passing by a bubbling creek, the group, drained after a day and night of relentless travel, stopped to rest. The Beiman youth behind her said something Fengyu could faintly make out as "rest." The Ningzhou people had traded with the Beiman years ago, so most Ningzhou folk knew at least a word or two of their language.

It had been years since Fengyu last heard Beiman dialect, and it sounded utterly unfamiliar. The youth reined in his steed, leapt down in a single motion, and crudely tossed her onto the ground with one arm. Fengyu’s forehead struck a rock, stars danced before her eyes, and pain spread through her body like wildfire. Yet she stubbornly endured it, continuing to feign unconsciousness.

The Beiman began to rest. They swallowed dry rations with cold creek water, refilled their waterskins, and let their horses graze and drink by the river. Their journey to Ningzhou was still long, and without fresh mounts, proper rest was necessary.

Fengyu cracked open one eye and saw the men facing away from her, soaking their feet in the creek to refresh themselves. The winter snow was just melting, and the water was bone-chillingly cold. Yet they rolled up their pant legs and waded in without flinching. Quietly, Fengyu slipped off her ornamental hairpin and hair stick, hiding them in her sleeve. After a day and night of jostling, most of her hair accessories had fallen off, but the hairpin and stick had remained in her bun. In the dim pre-dawn light, surrounded by shadowed mountains and flowing water, Fengyu finally saw her chance.

Seeing the captors distracted and soaking in the river, she cautiously got to her feet, gathered her skirt, and ran toward the mountains. These were Beiman operatives operating within Yanyang territory—they had to move discreetly. They could only travel at night. If she could lose herself in the mountains and hide, perhaps rescue could come in time.

It had rained heavily days prior, and the foothills were coated in thick, clinging mud. Fengyu’s embroidered shoes became weighed down with dirt, feeling as heavy as lead. Before she reached the forest’s edge, a roar echoed behind her. Fengyu turned her head to see the Beiman youth spinning sharply in the creek. His predator-like eyes locked onto her with an unyielding glare.

He shouted something to the others, and the entire group surged toward her like hunters chasing prey. Fengyu didn’t dare look back; she kept running forward. The worst-case scenario was merely being caught and beaten. But what if—what if she actually managed to escape?

The Beiman youth grabbed his massive bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed at her legs. He only needed her alive to bring her back to Beiman for their gods’ rituals. Missing a limb or two didn’t matter.

The arrow whistled through the air, piercing the pale light of sunrise, aimed right at Fengyu’s legs. A chill ran down her spine as she sensed danger. She rolled and crawled to shield herself behind a tree.

The arrow missed its mark. Furious, the Beiman youth let out a roar. The group raced toward her. Fengyu shut her eyes in despair. The forest was a hundred li away—there was no way she could outrun her pursuers.

Her gaze fell on the Soul Suppressing Pearl hanging from her wrist. Her fingers lightly caressed its vibrant surface. As long as she removed it, whether she lived or died would be Xie Xun’s fate to bear.

Fengyu hooked her finger around the bracelet’s clasp. With just a small exertion of force, she could set herself free.

By now, Xie Xun should be sound asleep or training with the Kyoto Capital Guard. Far away in the Capital City, safe and unharmed. This was, after all, the feud between Marquis Zhenbei Mansion and the Beiman.

With reddened eyes, countless thoughts churned in Fengyu’s mind. Life and death cycled through her reasoning a hundred times, but in the end, she resolved... to see her vow through. It was her decision to protect her sister. If the Beiman took her away and her sister remained safe, then Fengyu had fulfilled her duty. This had nothing to do with Xie Xun.

Dragged roughly by the Beiman youth, Fengyu’s face streaked with tears as she turned to her best skill—her acting. "Don’t hit me... don’t hit me... wuuu wuuu wuuu..."

The young girl, hair disheveled and appearance utterly pitiful, cried in a way that softened even the hardest of hearts. The Beiman, hardened by a life in wind and snow, had never seen such a frail, willow-like young woman.

The Beiman youth barked, "Stop crying!"