It turned out that Da Bai wasn’t a tiger without conscience—instead, it had been following Dong Huiying and the others, accompanied by its tiger clan companions, on their journey with the eight horse-drawn carriages.
The appearance of the tigers so daunted the bandits, who had never seen such an array, that they scrambled away in sheer terror.
As for Da Bai, it glanced at Dong Huiying with a prideful air, its expression almost human-like; as if to say—"Woman, I knew you couldn’t manage without me!"
After regrouping with Da Bai, the party set off once again. Ostensibly, there were eight horse-drawn carriages, but lurking unseen was a Fierce Tiger Guard, led by Da Bai, ensuring their security was top-notch.
Thus, more than ten days passed.
Atop the great mountain.
A pheasant pecked at the ground, focusing intently on its meal. Suddenly, it seemed to hear something, fluttering its wings and chirping frantically as it flew several meters away.
With a thud, a disheveled man, with arms poised as if to grab something, plummeted to the ground. After catching his breath, he rolled over, unable to resist pressing his hunger-panged stomach.
Before him, all remained pitch black.
Liang Shujun rolled over, laying flat on the ground. He reached out, waving his hand vigorously in front of his eyes, but still, he saw nothing.
He couldn’t help but feel disheartened.
The origins of those people were unknown to him. Over a month had passed since he had seized the chance to flee during the chaos. The mountains were like a maze, and his pursuers were relentless. For him, a blind man, to evade capture and find his way out was no easy feat.
Shujun sat up, then fished out a sour fruit from his bosom. It was a wild berry from the mountain. He felt the surface of the berry, pressing on its left side to find a soft spot, then brought it to his nose for a sniff.
The fruit was rotten.
Carefully avoiding the spoiled part, he ate what was left. The sourness of the fruit nearly made him gag, but he endured it.
After finishing the fruit, he sat in a daze for a while.
He buried his face in his arms, feeling a vulnerability he had never known in his lifetime.
He wanted to go home.
He longed to go home, so dearly missed home.
He missed the gentle words of the girl, the hot meals she cooked for him, her body warmth, her lips, her... everything about her, he missed her so much.
Allowing himself a moment of despair, he then sniffled, picked up a stick, and got to his feet.
"No way, I refuse to believe it. If I make the effort, this godforsaken place can’t trap me for one day, two days, a month, two months—I refuse to believe it can trap me for a lifetime!"
He reached out, sensing the warmth of the sunlight, gauging inwardly. The sun was coming from the left, and given the time of day, it felt like afternoon—the left side was west...
Having found his bearings, he used the branch to rustle through the fallen leaves at his feet, remaining highly vigilant to face any potential dangers in the mountains.
At night, he hid up in a tree and heard footsteps from afar. The hearing of a blind man is exceptionally keen, so sensing the approach, he hid well in advance.
Late at night, he changed his sleeping spot, just as a downpour began. His body soaked by the torrential rain, he shivered and sneezed repeatedly when the light of day arrived.
And so, day by day, his appearance deteriorated, and there were even times when he nearly became prey to the wild beasts of the mountains. With injury for injury, he killed the fierce beasts at a great cost. Lacking the means to start a fire, and fearing it would reveal his location to his pursuers, he had to swallow the raw, foul-smelling meat.