Chapter 69: Once Again, the Wine Maiden

Unlike the usual simple style of the Five Bushels of Rice Sect, this carriage was lavishly adorned and spacious enough to seat six or seven people comfortably. Zhang Chi drew aside the curtain and peered inside, and indeed saw only one person sitting within—the Wine Maiden.

At this moment, her face was clouded with sorrow, tears silently falling. In these chaotic times, with armies clashing everywhere, what recourse could a lone woman possibly have? Fortunately, since being captured, the Wine Maiden had not been mistreated; in fact, she was treated with great respect, though she was forbidden to meet others freely—a detail that puzzled her far more than she expected. Why had they brought her here, and why did they regard her so? She could not fathom their intentions.

Though the Five Bushels of Rice Sect had not harmed her, she was nonetheless deprived of freedom, restricted in her movements. Today was safe, but who could say what tomorrow might bring? As a gentle and delicate woman, the Wine Maiden could not help but be anxious.

She had suffered since childhood, and the only days of happiness and ease she had ever known were those spent at Zhang Chi’s side. Unable to help herself, her thoughts turned to him.

Just as she was lost in these musings, the carriage curtain suddenly parted, and someone poked their head inside. The Wine Maiden, startled and sorrowful, looked up—and saw, to her amazement, Young Master Zhang himself!

She was both shocked and elated, almost unable to believe her eyes. For a moment, she thought she must be dreaming, so overcome that she opened her mouth but could not utter a word.

Zhang Chi saw her lips parting; if she were to cry out, their secret would be revealed. He hurriedly made a gesture for silence and whispered, “Don’t say a word. Just follow my lead.”

The Wine Maiden immediately understood. The sudden appearance of Zhang Chi filled her with joy and surprise, and she had no time to think further, but in an instant worry returned. Surrounded by the sect’s followers, she wondered, Was Young Master risking his life to rescue me?

Her gaze flicked anxiously behind Zhang Chi, trying to see how many of the Five Bushels of Rice Sect’s troops were nearby, her face a mask of concern.

Zhang Chi noticed her subtle movement and smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Nothing will happen as long as I’m here.”

Such is the nature of women—a single sentence can inspire trust, especially in one as gentle and vulnerable as the Wine Maiden. Nothing had changed in the situation, yet Zhang Chi’s words, “Don’t worry, I’m here,” suddenly dispelled all her fears and anxieties. It was as though even if an army were arrayed before her, she would no longer be afraid.

The Wine Maiden held a revered position within the Five Bushels of Rice Sect, known to many followers only by reputation, never seen in person. Now, as she stepped out of the carriage, every believer present dared not meet her gaze; they hurriedly prostrated themselves on the ground.

To them, she was their Saint Maiden, possessing the power to command eight hundred thousand ghost soldiers—able, it seemed, to destroy heaven and earth with a wave of her hand.

The sect venerated spirits and ghosts; to them, the Saint Maiden was already regarded as divine.

Since being brought here, the Wine Maiden had never appeared before the masses and did not understand why she was met with such reverence. But she remembered Zhang Chi’s instruction: not to speak, only to cooperate. She did not ask questions, but followed him, a little nervous all the same.

Zhang Chi now played the role of a swaggering lackey to perfection, leading the Wine Maiden forward and barking at the blocking soldiers, “Are you blind? How dare you stand in our way! Move, quickly! If you hinder the sect’s affairs, you’ll pay dearly.”

It was not that these guards protecting the Saint Maiden were easily fooled, but rather that in front of the Misty Rain Pavilion, Priest Shouyin had suddenly demanded the Saint Maiden’s presence, insisting she confront Shopkeeper Wu to prove her authenticity. The Thunder Sect followers, unaware of the truth, shouted “Bring forth the Saint Maiden!” their cries thunderous and growing louder, echoing through the area. The guards had no idea what was happening ahead.

Those prostrated Five Bushels of Rice soldiers hastily moved aside.

Zhang Chi strode forward boldly, leading the way south. Dao Xuan, seeing Zhang Chi’s demeanor and observing the kneeling sect members who dared not rise, could not help but chuckle, “Brother Zhang, you really have a knack for this. That’s a brilliant plan.”

Even Zhang Chi himself hadn’t expected it would be so easy to spirit away the Wine Maiden. Given the circumstances, rescuing her should not have been impossible, but he felt a vague unease, as if something ominous was about to happen.

Sure enough, before they reached safety, a loud shout rang out, “Do not let those two escape! Seize them at once!”

The kneeling officer was puzzled. “But…”

“But what? Those two are the murderers who killed Canghuai, the ritual master!”

Someone here recognized him? Zhang Chi was terrified.

The man was none other than the personal guard who had served at General Canghuai’s camp outside Jian Kang City. He was a trusted member of the Five Bushels of Rice Sect, and Canghuai had entrusted him with the Wine Maiden, ordering him to bring her to Kuaiji. Thus, during the battle between Zhang Chi and Canghuai, this guard had not been present.

The news that “Tian Ji” had killed Canghuai had long reached the sect’s upper echelons, but in all of Kuaiji, only this guard knew that the man before him was Zhang Chi—“Tian Ji” himself.

He was not only Canghuai’s confidant, but also trusted by Yan Yicao. Since escorting the Wine Maiden to Kuaiji, he had remained by her side.

The true origins of the “Saint Maiden” could not be revealed to ordinary believers, so most assumed she was genuine. Now, with the guard ordering their capture, the followers were thrown into confusion.

Zhang Chi realized he had been recognized—there was no more room for deception. He quickly said to Dao Xuan, “Run!”

“Brother Zhang, you go first. I’ll cover our retreat.” Dao Xuan, skilled in martial arts, was confident in his ability to escape.

At this point, Zhang Chi did not hesitate, grabbing the Wine Maiden and fleeing ahead. Dao Xuan stood his ground, his expression grave.

His seriousness was not due to fear of fighting the sect’s followers—most were refugees, untrained in martial arts or battlefield tactics. His concern lay with their overwhelming numbers; capturing him would not be easy, but preventing them from pursuing Zhang Chi and the Wine Maiden would be a challenge.

(P.S.: Ostrich—Originally, I intended to reveal a certain plot twist in this chapter, but as the content grew, it seems I’ll need another chapter or two. The title is now somewhat misleading, so I’ve made some changes. Apologies to readers for any inconvenience caused.)