Inside the cave, all was quiet.
Zhang Ping had already fallen fast asleep.
By the faint glow of a tinderbox, Zhao Yun carefully trimmed the arrow shaft embedded in Tang Ji's wound, then tore a strip from his robe to bind it tightly. After much effort, the bleeding finally stopped.
Only then did he let out a long breath.
He stepped outside to secure his warhorse—
But it was gone.
Whether it had wandered off to graze or fled back toward the city, he could not tell. The surrounding mountains were filled with wild beasts; Zhao Yun dared not stray far. After a brief search yielded nothing, he returned to the cave, remaining on high alert through the night.
At dawn, the sounds of battle from Luoyang gradually faded.
Zhao Yun considered escorting Tang Ji back to the city—but then he recalled the message in the brocade pouch. After a long hesitation, he made his decision.
"I trust my lord's judgment. If he told me not to return, there must be a reason."
With that, he lifted Tang Ji onto his back, woke Zhang Ping, and set out toward Xiaopingjin on foot.
"Uncle Zilong, what's wrong with Sister Tang?"
"Uncle Zilong, why aren't we going back to the city?"
"Uncle Zilong, I'm hungry…"
Zhang Ping chattered endlessly along the way.
At four or five years old, he was at that age—restless and talkative.
Zhao Yun carried Tang Ji while answering the boy as best he could. Before long, Zhang Ping grew tired, but seeing Zhao Yun already burdened, he bit his lip and refused to ask to be carried.
Halfway there, they came upon a grim sight—
The corpses of Zhao Zhong and the others.
Zhao Yun's heart sank.
Zhang Ping burst into tears in fright. Zhao Yun quickly steadied Tang Ji with one hand, scooped the child up with the other, and hastened his pace.
By midday, they finally reached Xiaopingjin.
The ferry was eerily deserted. Only the rushing river could be heard.
Just as Zhao Yun frowned in confusion, a voice called out from afar:
"Is that Zilong?"
Zhao Yun's eyes lit up. He looked toward the river.
A small boat drifted on the water, a figure standing at its bow.
"It's me!" Zhao Yun called back.
The boat drew near.
As it approached, Zhao Yun recognized the man—
Cao Xing.
Before the boat had fully stopped, a woman rushed out from the cabin.
"My son!"
Liu Hua threw her arms around Zhang Ping, holding him tightly, kissing his face over and over, heedless of the sweat and dust.
"Are you hurt?"
Zhang Ping shook his head and grinned. "Mom, I'm hungry."
"Alright, I'll get you something to eat."
Liu Hua bowed deeply to Zhao Yun in gratitude, then carried the child back into the cabin.
Zhao Yun returned the bow, then turned to Cao Xing with a puzzled look.
"Why are you here?"
Cao Xing explained everything.
Ever since Zhang Xin had persuaded He Jin, he had been closely monitoring events in Luoyang. When reports came that Qiao Mao had led troops out of Dongjun without imperial orders, Zhang Xin immediately realized something was wrong.
"If it's not He Jin… then it must be Yuan Shao."
From that moment, he understood—Luoyang would soon fall into chaos.
He promptly ordered Cao Xing to evacuate his household and sent Zuo Bao to meet them. Though uncertain whether Dong Zhuo would enter the capital, it was safer to move his family out early.
Taking advantage of their freedom to travel, Cao Xing escorted them out of the city under the guise of an outing and handed them over to Zuo Bao. Then, following orders, he remained behind to wait for Zhao Yun.
Everyone else had already left—
Except Liu Hua, who insisted on staying for her son.
Cao Xing sighed. "We've been waiting here for over two days. Hurry—get on the boat."
Then his gaze shifted to Tang Ji, curiosity flickering.
"Zilong… who is this? Your… beloved?"
"You misunderstand," Zhao Yun said quietly, explaining her identity.
Cao Xing's eyes widened.
"The future empress?!"
"You should take them to Qingzhou first," Zhao Yun said. "Lend me a horse—I must return to Luoyang."
Cao Xing shook his head. "My lord ordered us to leave by water. No horses were kept. And he repeatedly warned—once we leave the city, we must not return. I must bring you back safely."
Zhao Yun smiled faintly.
"I'm just an unknown man. No one will trouble me. Go ahead—I'll return after I send her back."
Cao Xing hesitated.
Letting him go would defy orders.
But bringing back the emperor's consort…?
Before he could decide, Zhao Yun turned and began to leave, unwilling to put him in a difficult position.
Cao Xing reached out instinctively—but stopped, torn.
Then—
A dull thud.
Zhao Yun collapsed.
"Zilong!"
Cao Xing rushed forward.
There was no response.
After a night of battle, no rest, and carrying someone across miles of mountain paths, Zhao Yun had long since reached his limit. Only his strength and training had kept him going this far.
Anyone else would have fallen long ago.
Cao Xing looked from Zhao Yun… to Tang Ji.
"What now…"
He hesitated, then sighed.
"…Forget it. The lord said we're not to return. Let him punish us later."
He bent down, preparing to carry Zhao Yun aboard.