The entrance to Xifeng Pass was bordered by a vast wasteland, a no-man's-land. No one ever lingered there, for fear of bandits lying in wait. Yet, at this moment, it teemed with people.
They wore identical clothing, marked with a large character signifying "prisoner." Their hands and feet were bound by chains, linking them one after another, not only to prevent escape but also to thwart any rescue attempts.
"So thirsty, so thirsty," a prisoner, an elder with graying hair, suddenly swayed and collapsed onto the ground. Since they were all chained together, one person falling meant the others would feel it.
"Elder, what's wrong?" Behind the elder was a young man. Though his hair was somewhat disheveled, it couldn't conceal his refined features, particularly his phoenix-like eyes, which held a captivating allure.
"Thirsty, so thirsty," the elder mumbled.
The prisoners gathered around, looking at the elder. They knew that if he had water, he would revive, but no one dared to speak up. They had been beaten too severely. From Qicheng to Xifeng Pass, they had walked for a full two months.
During this journey, they were given water only once in the morning, with no further supply. At one point, a man, parched with thirst, had fainted. Someone pleaded with the guards for a little water, but the guards beat that person to death. Since then, no one dared to ask the guards for water; those who couldn't endure simply met their end.
"So thirsty, so thirsty, please give me some water!" the elder suddenly clutched the young man, his eyes clearing for a fleeting moment.
The young man flinched slightly, a complex emotion flashing in his phoenix eyes. Just as he was about to speak, another prisoner cautioned him, "Don't you dare say anything. The last person who asked for water was beaten to death. If you want to live, don't open your mouth."
"Thirsty, so thirsty," the elder continued to murmur.
The young man gently laid the elder down, his gaze lowered, making it impossible to discern his thoughts.
"What's wrong with him?" At that moment, a guard pointed at the elder lying on the ground and asked.
One prisoner replied, "Officer, he's thirsty."
"Thirsty? I'm thirsty too! Hurry and get him up, or I'll beat him to death," the guard roared angrily.
"Yes, yes," the prisoners quickly helped the elder up. However, the elder couldn't stand and collapsed onto the ground once more.
"Good, pretending to be dead, are we? Then I'll beat you to death." With that, the guard lashed out with his whip at the elder.
The whip struck the elder's body fiercely. His thin clothing offered no protection against it; a single strike tore through the fabric.
The elder cried out in agony. Hearing this, the guard became even more excited. "He can still cry? Then he's not dead! If he's not dead and pretending, I'll beat him to death!"
After several more lashes, the elder's cries grew fainter. Seeing that the elder was about to perish, the guard's eyes flashed with ferocity. He raised his whip and swung it towards the elder's face.
The prisoners all lowered their heads. They knew that with that whip strike, the elder would surely die. But they could barely protect themselves, let alone shield others.
However, that whip strike never landed. Some of the bolder prisoners opened their eyes and saw the whip firmly grasped by someone.
The guard, seeing this, became enraged. "Let go!"
"Officer, if you continue to beat him, he will die," a deep voice said, soft yet carrying an inexplicable chill.
The guard was momentarily stunned. For an instant, he felt an unprecedented sense of dread and fear. But as he regained his composure, thinking he was being intimidated by a prisoner, he stepped forward and fiercely kicked the young man in the abdomen, cursing, "You scared me to death!"
The young man, unable to dodge, was kicked to the ground. As he attempted to raise his head, the pain of a whip lash brought him back to reality. Whip after whip fell upon him, like buckets of cold water dousing his body. For some reason, he recalled the past.
In the past, he too made mistakes. But even when beaten, he felt a sense of joy, for being beaten proved he wasn't strong enough. He vowed to become strong, so he could protect the one he had sworn to protect.
And that person he wanted to protect was the most important person in his life, someone for whom he would readily sacrifice his life without hesitation.
Yet, the very person who caused him to be willing to give up his life did not live to see his strength. She perished.
Upon receiving the news, he became like a walking corpse. Without the motivation or goal to move forward, he was like a living dead man.
Later, he no longer felt pain. If he were to die like this, it would be a good thing. Perhaps then he could see her in the afterlife.
The guard suddenly stopped. He stepped forward and felt for the young man's breath. His breathing was still present, though very faint. Just as he was about to raise the whip again, he noticed, hidden beneath the messy hair, a delicate face. Though dust covered it, one could still see its former fairness.
He froze. Then, he beckoned to other guards, pointing at the young man's face.
The other guards chuckled, their laughter carrying an unsettling undertone.
Seeing this, all the prisoners were shocked, understanding the meaning behind the guards' smiles. But they were powerless. The guards dragged the young man out, to the base of a large tree, and let go.
One guard rubbed his hands together and smiled. For the two months they had been guarding these prisoners, none of them had touched a woman. Even if they had the chance, they dared not, for the two young masters of the Zhao family were present, and they watched them very closely. Otherwise, they would have already enjoyed a few. These exiled prisoners, euphemistically called exiles, were, to put it bluntly, living dead. Even if they died, no one would question it.