When luck curdles in this life, even cold water turns to gravel and chips a tooth.

To become a stand-in without precedent, a scapegoat no chronicle has ever held—who can tell if that’s bad luck or crooked fortune.

“We caught you alive, so you’re still useful. Killing you now would be like burning good silk for kindling.”

The young woman moved with quick, clean hands. The rope loop slid like a snake, tightened around Lingcai’s neck, then jerked her close as each word landed like a hammer.

“I hate smooth-tongued types. I’m not killing you yet; that tongue still has its uses. But I want payment—two fingers. A pity, such pretty hands.”

She spoke while she lifted Lingcai’s fingers, set them gently on a boulder cold as winter stone.

“Someone, chop them. Index and middle. After that, you won’t hold a pen again.”

“Just kill me quick,” Lingcai said, despair settling like frost. “Don’t drag this out with useless tricks.”

“You want clean and quick? That’s too cheap.” The young woman—Qiange—smiled like a drawn blade. “I enjoy watching you nobles, high as clouds by day, at the cliff-edge bawling when the storm finally hits.”

Her hand slid from Lingcai’s belly like a cold stream and edged into the seam between her thighs.

“Cut the fingers if you must! Just don’t touch me there! I’m not interested in you at all!”

Lingcai panicked, legs thrashing like a hooked fish, but her kicks only churned the air.

“I’m not interested either.” Qiange’s voice stayed flat as iron. “I plan to make you wish for death. I want you regretting you were born a girl in this dusty world.”

“Even on my last breath, I have to be defiled?” Lingcai’s tears felt dry as sand.

“Would you rather be defiled after you’re dead?” Qiange let out a short, cold laugh.

“That’s even nastier. Forget it,” Lingcai muttered, head shaking like a rattle.

Just as Lingcai felt the sky had fallen, an assassin stumbled down a low dirt rise, mud on his boots, breath ragged. “Boss! Cavalry’s here! We gotta move!”

“Got it. Bag her head and take her.” Qiange’s order cut the air like an arrow. A sack swallowed Lingcai’s sight in one dark gulp, and hands bound her tight, cocooning her into a human bundle.

Qiange turned back, and the captive Xueyu wore a look laid like a trap. Before Qiange caught its meaning, Xueyu spat something out.

A small metal sphere clinked into view, gleaming like a cold star. Qiange reacted, but the beat was already late.

“Eyes shut! All hands—!”

The sphere bloomed a white sun. A searing flash ripped sight from every eye, blanking the world to blinding salt-white.

Qiange squeezed her eyes shut, but the burn still bit. She dropped and pressed her ear to the ground, listening to hoofbeats drum through the earth like thunder.

“Too close. No time. We’ll get wiped.” She shook her head. The flash had gutted her team’s senses, and flight with a hostage was smoke in wind.

“If we can’t take her, we kill her. No loose ends.” Decision snapped like a twig. She lurched up, sight smeared, rushed to the bagged Lingcai, and her blade fell in a clean, swift arc.

Then Qiange waved the few still-moving hands, and they flowed for the woods like shadows melting into trees.

The cavalry swept in with spears like reeds in a storm, and the field fell quiet in seconds. They cut Xueyu’s bonds. When her head cleared, Xueyu walked to Lingcai. The girl’s body lay slack, and a red pool spread like spilled sunset beneath her. A bitter mix tightened Xueyu’s chest; she sighed, soft as wind through prayer flags.

“Forgive us. You didn’t just die for the princess; you died for the state. We’ll honor your family. Rest easy.”

She reached down and pulled the sack from Lingcai’s face. The girl’s eyes were wide, empty as a moonless lake, staring straight through Xueyu.

Xueyu drew a deep breath. She knew this was wrong, but the road allowed no other steps.

“Go on, glare at me. Burn my face into your memory. Hate me alone if you must. If I walk into hell one day, you can do what you like there. Just spare Her Highness.”

“I’m not dead,” the “corpse” said, mouth dry but stubborn.

“...”

They locked eyes for three heartbeats. Then both exploded into a screech that rattled armor.

“Corpse-rise—ghost—! Priest or paladin, anybody, let her rest—!”

“I said I’m not dead! Stop waving that thing! Keep it up and you’ll kill me for real!”

Bound tight, Lingcai squirmed like a tied crab, words tumbling over themselves.

“I’m fine! It’s fake—blood packs!”

Xueyu steadied herself, eyes skimming Lingcai’s state. Aside from clothes soaked in red, she looked normal enough. Xueyu finally let her shoulders drop.

“Why stuff blood packs on yourself?”

“Isn’t it obvious? When the tide turns, you play dead. In times like these, who doesn’t brush past blades?” Lingcai wriggled, then yelped, urgency spiking. “Untie me, please! The rope’s biting. My arms hurt—”

“Okay, okay, it won’t kill you in a minute.” Xueyu waved her off and snapped orders, voice sharp as frost.

“You—head for the monastery ahead. The real princess is hiding there. Move and extract.”

“Save me first!” Lingcai howled.

“Split another squad. Chase the assassins. I want their trail pinned.”

“Save me first!”

“Contact the nearest watch post. ID every assassin. Issue warrants immediately.”

“Can you save me first...”

“One more thing. Send news of the attempted hit to the capital at once. Lock down every mile of the route.”

“Save me first, for heaven’s sake—!”