Chapter 137

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Under the brilliant glow of the full moon, the tall grasslands rippled like waves on a tranquil sea as a gentle breeze swept across the vast expanse.

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Three shadowy figures dashed silently through the undulating emerald sea, their movements fluid and practically weightless, leaving naught but faint impressions in the bent blades before they sprang upright once more.

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Though cloaked in darkness, their eyes shone with keen alertness, scanning their surroundings with practiced vigilance.

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As they neared the forest's edge, their steps slowed to a halt, chests heaving with suppressed exertion.

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One of the figures knelt, calloused fingers brushing over the faint indentations of horse hooves in the soft earth just beyond the tree line. "This way," he murmured, nostrils flaring as he caught the smoky scent of oak drifting on the night air. "I can smell the burning."

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Springing back to their feet, the trio took off once more, shadows flitting between the ancient trunks as they gave chase.

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The distant flicker of a campfire drew them onwards until, finally, they ground to a halt mere 4 li from the dancing flames, concealing themselves amid the dense underbrush.

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One man sighed, sucking in deep lungfuls of the wood-scented air as his comrades settled in beside him, well-concealed by the woven canopy overhead.

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"I can't believe we are stalking and following just a mere boy," he grumbled under his breath, bewilderment tinging his roughened tone. Retrieving a strip of dried meat from a tattered pocket, he tore into it with stained teeth, chewing thoughtfully.

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In the moon's unforgiving light, their disheveled appearances were thrown into sharp relief – ragged linen garments hanging from their lean frames, bearded faces smeared with grime and perspiration.

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Yet despite their world-weary mien, a gleam of alertness shone in their eyes as the speaker cast a sidelong look toward the apparent leader of their motley band.

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The latter, clad in an equally threadbare yet once-fine hanfu, now torn and stained from hard use, shrugged dismissively. "What can I do? That's the Elders' command." His gaze drifted toward the flickering campfire. "And to be precise, we are not chasing that famous flower boy, but rather that young woman."

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Hunkering low amid the gnarled roots and thick bushes, the trio kept a watchful vigil over the distant campsite, trading positions every so often to relieve aching muscles and stave off exhaustion's insistent lull.

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"This is a mess," another grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The Qinhai region is in chaos, yet here we are, instead of gathering more information about the current situation, watching some teenagers."

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"Juniors, you are still young, naive, and clueless," The leader's gruff voice cut through the tense silence, tinged with disappointment as he shook his head at his subordinates. His critical gaze swept over them, lips twisted into a shameful frown. "You both don't know how valuable that young lady is."

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One of the men, having just traded places with the third to keep watch, furrowed his brow in doubt. "Umm, Senior Brother..." He trailed off, tongue darting out to moisten dry lips.

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"Why are there only two people? Weren't they traveling with three?" The words had scarcely left his mouth when the trio immediately stiffened, muscles coiled like taut bowstrings.

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The telltale thud of approaching hoof beats shattered the stillness. Without a whisper, the three ragged figures melted into the shadows, keen eyes trained on the newcomer materializing through the trees.

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As the identities of the arrivals became clear, two sets of eyes widened in bewilderment, flicking toward their leader in silent question.

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But the leader was nowhere to be seen - or rather, he had become one with the very earth itself, his form blending seamlessly into the dirt and loam beneath the newcomer's footfalls.

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"Uncle, you are too close to them," a soft voice breathed, the barest thread of sound trickling through the trees, just audible enough for the newly arrived coachman's ears to catch. "What if they discover us?"

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Emerging from the concealed horse carriage, screened by a thicket of bushes off the main road, stepped a woman garbed in flowing white robes with crimson stripes.

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But then her gaze as frigid as winter's bite as piercing eyes narrowed to slits. With a deft flick of her wrist, a jian materialized in her grasp, glinting viciously in the moonlight.

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SWOOSH!

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The blade lashed out without warning, a deadly silver arc cleaving through the air toward the unassuming ground at her feet. In a blur of motion, a figure erupted from the earth, and the clash of steel rang out like a thunderclap, shattering the night's tranquility.

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