Chapter 403 Hostage

Chapter 403: Hostage

Zhou Ming felt that the world had finally turned into something he no longer recognized.

Cheng Ge was clinging to his neck with all his might, squeezing so hard that Zhou Ming could barely breathe, while still shouting with great emotion:

"Brother Lin! Brother Lin, snap out of it! I'm Amoxicillin! Don't you recognize me?! We're... we're sworn brothers who'd die for each other!"

Sworn brothers? Zhou Ming was being choked until his eyes rolled back, thinking, "So I took all those beatings for nothing?"

Even Hutuke was stumped. His brows were knitted so tightly you could squash a fly between them.

His gaze darted between the two men "weeping in each other's arms," vaguely sensing something eerily off that defied his understanding.

His eyes locked back onto Zhou Ming, still trapped in Cheng Ge's embrace, and his voice was cold and heavy with unyielding authority:

"You—are you really Lin Nanshu?"

Zhou Ming finally managed to squeeze out a sliver of breathing room from Cheng Ge's "iron grip," but his brain was still scrambled.

He couldn't tell if this was a switcheroo or a heist.

He instinctively tried to refute, his mouth just opening—

A searing pain suddenly exploded on the outside of his thigh!

"YOWWW—!!!" Zhou Ming's whole body jolted in agony, a scream escaping his lips as his face twisted.

He whipped his head around to look at Cheng Ge, who still had his arm around his neck with a look of "deep concern."

In those eyes that seemed overflowing with "brotherly affection," a cold and unmistakable murderous intent flashed through—just for an instant, but it made Zhou Ming's blood run cold, every hair on his body standing on end.

Zhou Ming's throat tightened, and beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead.

He looked at Hutuke before him, whose hostile expression showed his patience was wearing thin.

Then he felt the lingering pain in his thigh and the "affectionate" yet threatening embrace from Cheng Ge.

In that split second, his survival instinct kicked in, overriding everything else. He swallowed hard.

Under Hutuke's increasingly frigid stare, his voice wavered as he spoke tentatively:

"So... I'm... I'm Lin Nanshu...?"

That final "ma" trailed upward in pitch, dripping with doubt and hesitation.

A cold glint flashed in Cheng Ge's eyes again, and the arm around his neck tightened slightly in warning.

Zhou Ming's body shuddered, and he no longer dared to hesitate. He said firmly without hesitation:

"...Of course I am! I—I am Lin Nanshu!"

The moment Hutuke heard this, a ruthless glint and a look of "just as I suspected" flashed across his eyes.

No matter how weird it looked, the end result was what counted! This guy was the real deal!

That frail "Amoxicillin" was just a decoy—or perhaps a small fry who knew some inside information.

"Good! Very good!" Hutuke let out a cold laugh. Done with the theatrics, he immediately turned to the guards beside him and barked: "Tie this man up, now!"

"Yes!" The guards stepped forward and lunged to seize Zhou Ming.

Zhou Ming: "!!!"

He watched several burly men lunge at him, scared out of his wits. He thrashed about uselessly, shouting incoherently:

"H-hold on! Why are you tying me up?! I already confessed! I'm Lin Nanshu!

What do you want with Lin Nanshu?! Is this a kidnapping?! Just tell me how much you want!

Don't get rough! I'll cooperate! I'll totally cooperate—OW! Easy! You're breaking my arm!"

The moment the guards moved, Cheng Ge conveniently released Zhou Ming.

He even staggered back two steps looking utterly grief-stricken, raising a hand to brace himself against the table, his voice choked with emotion:

"Brother Lin! Take care! They... they surely won't mistreat you!"

His tone was dripping with sincerity, and after speaking, he clutched his chest and coughed violently, looking like he was about to keel over.

Zhou Ming was bound tightly, like a lamb awaiting slaughter. As they dragged him off, he kept craning his neck to look back at Cheng Ge.

"Ah Ge... what's going on?! Save me, save me!!"

Hutuke watched the "Lin Nanshu" being dragged off, then glanced at the dejected Cheng Ge beside him.

The nagging doubts from the strange turn of events were pushed aside by the satisfaction of nabbing the real target.

He gestured to the remaining guards: "Take him away as well. Hold them separately."

Cheng Ge was led away compliantly, head lowered, shoulders shaking slightly, as if still grieving over "Brother Lin's" plight.

...

Wuliji spent the night rounding up the livestock that had been attacked by wolves, reinforcing the broken fences, and personally tending to the injured herders, making sure everything was taken care of.

By the time he had finished, a faint pale gray was already creeping across the eastern horizon.

After a sleepless night, he was exhausted.

He quickly splashed some creek water on his face, mounted his horse, and prepared to ride back to camp.

That nagging unease in his chest coiled tighter and tighter like vines as dawn broke.

But he was barely halfway back when a rider came charging out of the thin mist ahead. The horse was clearly pushed to its limit, foam flecking its mouth and nostrils.

The rider spotted Wuliji's figure from afar and, disregarding all danger, leapt off the galloping horse without a second thought.

He stumbled, nearly fell, then scrambled forward on all fours, his voice cracked and warped from sheer terror and exhaustion:

"Chief! Bad news! Something's happened! Something—something huge!!"

Wuliji's heart dropped. Looking at this pale-faced tribesman, he asked, "What happened?"

The man was panting so hard he could hardly catch his breath. He braced his hands on the ground and looked up, his face smeared with mud, his eyes filled with sheer horror.

"Our... our people! So many of them—last night—were seized by the Great Khan's men!

I... I only got away by hiding under a feed cart while they were hauling others off in the chaos!"

Wuliji's hand gripping the reins tightened abruptly, his knuckles turning white in an instant.

He continued asking in a low voice, each word as if chiseled out of ice: "What's the situation now? Did they only take our Uerha Tribe people?"

"No... not just us!" The tribesman shook his head frantically, his face even more terrified than before. "The other... those other tribes that also claimed sickness or tired horses to avoid sending troops—lots of their people got taken too!

The earthen prison outside the royal court is said to be nearly packed! The Great Khan even... even..."

His voice caught suddenly, all color draining from his face, his eyes filled with disbelief and fear, his lips trembling as if the next words were too hot to say.

Wuliji's gaze was sharp as a blade, fixed on his face. He didn't push him, but the silent pressure was more terrifying than any shout.

"The Great Khan... the Great Khan took the dozen or so Bayan Tribe captives... and burned them alive! Yesterday evening! Right in front of the captives from the other tribes!

He said... he said it was a warning, divine punishment for defying orders! Now... now the Chief of the Bayan Tribe has taken the remaining people and rushed to the royal court overnight!

He's... he's probably going to grovel and surrender! The other tribes... probably... probably..."

He didn't need to finish—Wuliji already understood.

Burned alive.

Burned alive.

Those two words hit Wuliji's ears like barbed ice picks, stabbing straight through his chest.

He could almost see towering flames and twisted figures before his eyes, and his nose seemed to catch the horrible smell of scorched flesh.

Hutuke had used such cruel, such public methods to crush all dissent and terrify everyone!

Wuliji sat frozen on his horse, the morning breeze stirring his robes, damp with night dew.

He had planned to rally the other oppressed tribes into a force strong enough to make Hutuke think twice...

But now, before that path had even seen its first real step, it had been burned to cinders—and those cinders had snapped the last spine of resistance in the other tribes.

Once the Bayan Tribe caved, which of the other wavering, terrified tribes would dare stand with his Uerha Tribe? Who would still believe there was any way to survive defying the royal court?

The messenger knelt on the ground, looking up at his chief's face.

Wuliji asked quietly, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotion, each word forced from the depths of his chest: "How... is he?"

The tribesman looked blank for a moment, then it suddenly hit him.

The color drained from his face again, his voice dropping even lower, heavy with reluctance:

"Master... Lin, was taken by the Great Khan's trusted men with a big force—it caused quite a stir... I'm afraid... I'm afraid it doesn't look good.

Before I got away, I vaguely heard he'd been taken deep into the royal court. The details... I don't know."

Don't know.

But those three words squeezed Wuliji's heart tighter than any clear bad news.

Specially sent, made a scene, taken deep into the royal court... Hutuke was dead set on using Cheng Ge as a weapon—and likely the cruelest kind!

Wuliji's face, already cold and hard with anger and grief, instantly darkened even further, his eyes so black they seemed to drip ink.

He asked no more questions. He suddenly dug his heels into the horse's flanks and cracked his whip hard!

"Hyah—!" The horse let out a long neigh and shot forward like an arrow, tearing a gash through the morning mist.

Wuliji leaned low, pressed flat against the horse's back, his gaze locked on the camp ahead, a faint, terrifying red rimming his eyes.

The morning wind cut across his tight cheeks like a blade, but it couldn't blow away the burning anxiety and rage flaring hotter in his chest.

His people captured, the alliance shattered, and now... his beloved was in Hutuke's hands!

He dared not imagine how Hutuke would treat Cheng Ge.

Cheng Ge's pale, fragile face flashed through his mind—what would he endure at the hands of a man like Hutuke?

That thought gnawed at his sanity like a venomous snake. He had to get back right now!

The grassland blurred into a stretch of grayish yellow as the wind rushed past in rapid retreat.