Chapter 362 Take Him Away

Chapter 362: Carrying Him Away

He held that pose for a long while, until his breath started to falter, and only then did he gradually settle.

The laughter died out, leaving only ragged breaths that fogged the air in the wind and snow.

He raised his head slightly, his gaze settling back on the grime on Cui Ji's face.

Then he bowed his head and pressed his chapped, cracked lips softly to that smear of dirt.

"Time to go," he murmured.

He turned, grabbed Cui Ji's arm again, and slung it over his own neck.

Then he braced his shoulder under Cui Ji's armpit, bent low, and turned himself into a human lever.

Dragging that limp, unresponsive body, he started shuffling forward, inch by inch.

Slow, agonizing, but driven by a stubbornness that was almost savage in its refusal to yield.

He kept his head down, watching his toes creep forward, and the furrow he was gouging through the snow with sheer force of will.

One step. Then another.

………

The snow seemed like it would never end, swallowing the distant mountains in white.

Lü Rou slogged through knee-deep snow, lurching with every step.

She tugged at the thick cotton robe beneath Cheng Ge's white cloak draped over her.

Her hood was pulled low, but it couldn't stop the knife-edged wind and snow from biting into her collar.

Her face was numb, her lips split, and her breath was ripped away by the gale the moment it left her mouth.

Dahuang padded half a step ahead, head low, wet nose working the snow, huffing white clouds.

"Dahuang..." Lü Rou's voice was nearly swallowed by the storm. She kept calling, her lips frozen stiff, but she didn't dare stop.

She knew nothing about tracking or soldiering. All she knew was that her master was in danger.

Grabbing him and running out was the only thing she could think of in her panic.

They'd left Luoyan Pass far behind. The chaos there was gone, replaced by nothing but an endless, devouring white.

Lü Rou's heart felt like it was caught in an icy grip, clenching tighter and tighter.

Suddenly, Dahuang froze, a low growl rumbling in his throat, the fur along his back bristling.

He cocked his head, eyes locked on a patch ahead where the wind had scoured away the snow, exposing dark, bare ground.

Dahuang's growl erupted into sharp, frantic barks!

He bolted to a mound that nearly vanished into the snow, frantically pawing at it, uncovering a dull swatch of black cloth.

Then he whipped around toward Lü Rou, barking harder, more desperate.

Lü Rou's heart shot into her throat. A cold dread seized her in an instant.

"Master...?" she rasped. With strength she didn't know she had, she lunged toward Dahuang, the deep snow nearly sending her sprawling.

She threw herself down, hands shaking so badly she could barely control them, clawing frantically at the snow.

Beneath the snow lay two people. Cheng Ge was on his side, arms locked around Cui Ji in a protective embrace.

Both were almost completely buried, utterly still, their faces a sickly, terrifying pale.

"Master." Lü Rou's voice broke, thick with tears.

She scrambled to roll Cheng Ge onto his back.

Cheng Ge's eyes were shut tight, tiny ice crystals clinging to his lashes.

His cheeks and lips were drained of all color, but a thin, dried, blackened streak of blood still marked the corner of his mouth.

Her fingers ice-cold, Lü Rou reached tremblingly for Cheng Ge's neck.

Beneath her fingertips, his skin was frighteningly cold, with barely a trace of warmth.

She held her breath, focusing every ounce of her attention, waiting what felt like an eternity.

Only then did she catch it—a pulse, so faint and slow it barely seemed to move.

Still alive!

The realization nearly made Lü Rou's knees buckle, but an even greater panic flooded through her.

"Master! Master, wake up!" she sobbed, frantically digging her nail into his philtrum.

Her nail sank into the cold, rigid skin, leaving a livid mark.

Cheng Ge's brow twitched, barely perceptible. His snow-dusted lashes fluttered, and with what seemed like tremendous effort, he cracked his eyes open a sliver.

His gaze was unfocused, a murky gray, mirroring the storm and Lü Rou's blurred, wavering shape.

Her choked, hiccuping cries reached him as if from far underwater—muffled, indistinct.

He fought to swallow. The motion tugged at his cracked, raw lips and mouth, flooding it with the thick taste of blood.

His lips were glued together. He tried to separate them, managing only a whisper of air: "...Lü...?"

"Master! It's me! It's me!" Seeing him respond, Lü Rou's tears came harder, splashing onto Cheng Ge's frozen face and chilling instantly.

"It's okay, Master. Lü Rou's taking you back! We're going home now!"

She sobbed as she talked, frantically trying to haul Cheng Ge out of the snow and get him onto her back.

Cheng Ge's body was limp, almost weightless, yet somehow heavy with the dead weight of a man at death's door.

Lü Rou threw all her strength into it, barely getting his torso off the ground, when Cheng Ge stirred, just a fraction.

His wandering gaze seemed to fight to focus, settling on Lü Rou's frantic, tear-streaked face, but also seeming to look right through her, somewhere else.

His cracked lips parted, air rasping in his throat, and he forced out a voice so faint it was almost lost, halting but stubborn: "...tired... just... rest a bit..."

"No, you can't rest! Master, it's too cold here!" Lü Rou wailed, straining to hoist him onto her back.

"I'll carry you. We'll go back to the city. It'll be warm there, and the doctor's waiting..."

Cheng Ge seemed not to hear her—or rather, he heard her, but another thought had already drowned everything out.

He tilted his head slightly, his tongue unconsciously licking his equally chapped and peeling lower lip, tasting only blood and the bitter tang of snow.

His pupils reflected the blurry outline of another figure lying motionless in the snow behind Lü Rou.

He took a breath, a rasping wheeze like a broken bellows rattling in his chest. "Take... Cui Ji... and go..."

Lü Rou froze mid-motion. She stared at Cheng Ge's gray, lifeless face.

At the stubborn look in his eyes even as he teetered on the edge of passing out, a wave of crushing grief and panic slammed into her.

"No!" she all but screamed, tears pouring down her face. "Young master, we have to go! We have to save you first! The general... he's..."

She didn't dare look at Cui Ji—that icy stillness that seemed ready to crack at any touch scared her half to death. Right now, all she could see was Cheng Ge.

"Come back with me! Young master, please!" Lü Rou sobbed uncontrollably, tightening her grip and hauling Cheng Ge onto her back.

Cheng Ge's body lurched as she dragged him, his brow knitting tighter. He seemed to want to push her off, but he didn't even have the strength to lift a hand.

But his eyes still stubbornly tried to find Cui Ji.

His throat bobbed, and his voice, even fainter now, repeated like a whisper: "...Save him... save Cui Ji... first..."

Lü Rou didn't care anymore. She gritted her teeth, hefted most of Cheng Ge's weight onto her thin shoulders, and staggered upright.

Cheng Ge's frozen body slumped against her back, his chin drooping into the hollow of her shoulder.

Just then, Lü Rou felt something warm and sticky at the back of her neck.

The warm trickle ran over her icy nape, snaking down and soaking into her collar.

She froze, and right by her ear, Cheng Ge's low murmur drifted in.

Like a dying man's last obsession, over and over—faint but clear—hammering against her eardrums.

"Save Cui Ji..."

"Take him... away..."

"Save... Cui Ji..."

Each word came softer than the last, yet heavier, crushing down on Lü Rou's chest until she could hardly breathe.

The warm blood kept trickling, coiling around her skin like a poisonous snake.

Dahuang paced nearby, frantic, nudging Cheng Ge's limp hand with his nose and letting out low whines.

The wind howled, whipping up snow that lashed against the three frozen figures—two people and a dog.

Lü Rou's hands gripped Cheng Ge on her back, her knuckles nearly digging through his frozen clothes.

She bit her lower lip hard, tasting metal—whether it was Cheng Ge's blood or her own, she couldn't tell.

Her eyes were wide, fixed on the white emptiness ahead, and she forced herself forward step by step.

The curse-like whispers kept coming, but she shut them out, using every ounce of strength to block the sound from eating into her.

Don't listen. Don't think. The young master's just confused, just exhausted.

Just get him back first. Once we're back, it'll be fine. The doctor can save him.

Her mind was a mess, but one thought cut through: keep moving, get the young master out of here!

But just then, a hand weakly caught the fabric of her sleeve.

"Lü Rou... please..."

In a voice that was almost a plea, "I... beg you."

Two words, light as feathers, yet they hit like sledgehammers, smashing through the wall Lü Rou had desperately built.

Cheng Ge seemed to have spent the last of his clarity. His hand on her sleeve gave one more weak tug.

"Great Zhou... can't... lose... Cui Ji..."

Lü Rou's feet stopped dead.

She stood frozen, Cheng Ge on her back, the wind howling in her ears.

Great Zhou can't be without Cui Ji.

Yes... Great Zhou can't be without Cui Ji.

The northern border can't fall. The millions inside the passes can't become prey. This war—the one that decides the nation's fate—can't be lost.

The general is the north's last shield. If he really dies here...

But...

Lü Rou slowly, painfully, lifted her head.

Snowflakes swirled down thick and fast, as if trying to fill every hollow in the world, bury everything alive—including the barely breathing man on her back.

Great Zhou can't be without Cui Ji.

But then... what about the young master?

Lü Rou's world was tiny—so tiny it could only hold that manor, the young master, and a few people she cared about.

She didn't understand nations or armies. All she knew was that the young master had pulled her out of the mud.

She wanted to save the young master.

Only wanted to save the young master.

She opened her mouth to say something, but her throat closed up, and only choked sobs came out.

Time seemed to stop. Every snowflake was visible as it fell, and every gust of wind cut straight to the bone.

Dahuang seemed to feel the suffocating standoff. He stopped pacing and sat down quietly, head lifted.

His wet black eyes moved from Lü Rou to Cui Ji in the snow, and he let out low whimpers.

Lü Rou finally turned around, achingly slow.

Her red-rimmed eyes finally moved past Cheng Ge's pale, closed face.

Her gaze landed on the other figure a few steps away—also covered in ice and snow, silent and still.

She bent down, agonizingly slow, inch by inch.

She carefully set Cheng Ge back down on the snow, propping him against a low snowdrift nearby.

Cheng Ge's lips still twitched faintly, unconsciously mouthing those two words.

Lü Rou knelt beside Cheng Ge, with her numb, red, stiff fingers gently pushing back the blood-matted strands of hair stuck to his forehead.

Using her filthy sleeve, she carefully dabbed at the fresh blood beading at the corner of his mouth.

Cheng Ge wasn't looking at her; his unfocused eyes stared into nothing, one hand fumbling with immense effort inside his robe, where the blood-soaked, frozen-stiff fabric lay.

His fingers kept slipping, nails scraping the ice-hard cloth with a faint, raspy "scratch, scratch."

Dahuang immediately crowded in, nudging his arm with its nose.

Finally, his fingers caught the corner of a stiff piece of paper, and he slowly worked the blood-dampened letter out, inch by inch.

The corner of the envelope peeked out—plain gray-blue, now smeared with stark dark red and grime.

He gripped the thin letter, lifted his arm an inch, then let it drop, the paper whispering against the snow.

"...Nan...ling..." his lips moved, his voice faint but eerily clear, each word wrenched from deep in his chest, "...Yun Xunyu..."

Lü Rou's hands shook violently as she took the letter, then shrugged off her heavy cloak.

She quickly wrapped it around him, tucking it in snugly from head to toe, leaving only his paper-pale nose and closed eyes exposed.

She knelt over him, her numb, frozen fingers brushing the fresh snow from his brows and lashes one last time.

The moment her fingertips grazed Cheng Ge's icy skin, tears spilled down her face, hitting the snow and freezing into tiny beads on impact.

"Young master..." her voice cracked and broke, every word torn from a throat raw with cold.

"Wait for me, Lü Rou... you have to wait... I'll be right back... I'll take you home..."

She couldn't bear to look anymore. She wrenched her head away, her tear-blurred gaze landing on the other snowdrift a few steps away.

She nearly lunged at it, moving with a desperate, no-holds-barred recklessness.

She roughly shoved the snow aside, revealing Cui Ji's equally lifeless face and heavy armor.

Lü Rou sucked in a breath of the knife-edged cold, then bent down.

She put every ounce of strength into hauling up the body—far heavier than Cheng Ge's—and hoisting it onto her back.

The armor was cold and hard, digging painfully into her.

Cui Ji's body was like a massive frozen stone, heavier than she could have imagined.

On her first attempt, she only dragged him a few inches from the snow pit, stumbling and nearly falling herself.

All that was left in her head was Cheng Ge's faint, desperate plea, and those words: "Great Zhou can't lose Cui Ji."