Wuxue’s mind went blank as she hit the ground. In that instant, she replayed everything Torre had done. No matter how she looked at it, he didn’t seem like a traitor.
The pain of the wounds told her the truth: Torre had shot her twice.
Wuxue had once been one of the top bounty hunters in the Jinye Kingdom. She’d killed countless people—enemies, comrades, even clients…
She never would have believed that a beginner who’d only just entered the business could shoot her down before she had a chance to fight back!
Whether Torre was a deadeye or had simply gotten lucky, one of his shots had hit a steel plate behind her and ricocheted into her back. The other had struck her right elbow. She couldn’t even muster the strength to draw her gun.
Wuxue had expected Torre to come closer, but instead she heard him running away. She didn’t know what he was after, but staying here injured was definitely unsafe. It had been a long time since she’d been hit by an old-fashioned bullet. The pain burned like fire. She had to be grateful she’d given Torre a small-caliber pistol; otherwise, she had no idea how much worse things might have been.
Wuxue forced herself upright and began searching her waist pouch for a clotting injection. A good bounty hunter came prepared, no matter how small the job.
The hemostatic medicine was in the second pocket of her pack. Wuxue pulled it out precisely and stared at her lifeline, finally able to breathe again. At least she wouldn’t die here.
Grimacing through the pain, she dragged herself somewhere safer. The clotting agent worked quickly, but it had to be applied directly to the wound. Wuxue focused on lifting the back of her shirt.
Suddenly, rapid footsteps sounded behind her. Wuxue reached for her gun, but a sharp pain exploded in her head. A high-pitched ringing filled her ears, and then she lost consciousness.
“Hey, don’t blame me for hitting you so hard.”
The singer set down the pressure-cooker lid in her hand and knelt beside Wuxue. She bound Wuxue’s arms and legs with practiced ease, brushed the snow off her forehead, and couldn’t resist defending herself. “You outsiders come out here and I never know what you’re up to. Look at your friend! He was fine one minute, then—whoa! What a turnaround. I didn’t want to hit you too, but I didn’t know if you’d suddenly take a swing at me.”
She glanced at Wuxue’s hand, which was still gripping her gun. The singer shook her head and kept rambling. “See? I knew you’d suddenly try something.”
When she finished, she yanked the rope tight, hoisted Wuxue onto the handcart, and started singing that strange song again…
By the time Wuxue woke, she had no idea what time it was. The pain in her waist and elbow had brought her around, along with a dull ache in her forehead. As she came to, she began piecing together what had happened. She remembered perfectly well that Torre had shot her twice. But everything after that—and how she’d ended up here—was a complete blank.
Once she had her bearings, Wuxue looked around. Her senses were slowly returning. The first thing she saw was a blue ceiling, one that had filled her childhood. It was the kind of makeshift shack often found on construction sites. Cheap blue plastic enclosed a layer of flammable foam. It wasn’t much, but it was far more luxurious than a roof made of industrial tarp. Shelters like this were everywhere in the slums, including the Red Iron Wasteland.
Perhaps one of the locals had brought her here. But that didn’t mean she was safe. Wuxue had woken up consumed by regret over trusting Torre. Once, she’d been known for her coldness; now she’d nearly died because she’d let herself care. Out of habit, she reached for the gun at her waist, only to find it gone. Her clothes were missing too!
A chill ran through Wuxue, but she quickly calmed herself. She was tucked in under a blanket, and her hands and feet weren’t tied. She touched her wounds. As expected, they were bandaged. Someone had treated her, and probably taken off her clothes to do it.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. A hollow echo accompanied them. If Wuxue had guessed right, she was on the second floor. As the footsteps came closer, she closed her eyes again.
“The king sent me to find the hills…”
It was that same baffling song. There was no need to guess who’d rescued her; Wuxue already knew. Still, she chose to lie perfectly still and wait. After all, she was naked. Was she supposed to leap up and beat the other woman senseless in the nude?
“I searched the southern hills, now I’m off to the north…” The singer came to Wuxue’s side and felt her forehead. She murmured, “No fever. Good thing I knocked her out earlier. If she’d tried to handle those wounds herself, who knows where she’d have spent the night? Tsk… City people are so dumb.”
The singer’s voice was low, but Wuxue heard every word of “Good thing I knocked her out earlier.” She was already regretting having trusted Torre, and though he had run off, the wound on her head still had a culprit. Wuxue stopped pretending to be asleep. She grabbed the singer’s hand, yanked her close, and clamped her other hand around her throat.
“Tell me! What are you after? Why did you hit me? Do you have anyone else with you?” Wuxue snarled.
To Wuxue’s surprise, the singer’s face scrunched up and she let out a shriek like a pig being slaughtered. “Ma’am! I don’t know anything! I was only trying to help you! But you had a gun in your hand! I—I didn’t dare get close!”
The singer cried as she spoke, tears rolling one after another from the corners of her eyes. They smeared the white ash on her face, leaving her a mess. The clumps of powder made her already unreadable face even harder to look at.
Between the shrill wailing, the impossible-to-read face, and the singer’s desperate fear of getting hurt, Wuxue released her at once. If she’d been half-asleep before, the sight in front of her had fully awakened her. The singer had explained it clearly enough: she’d wanted to help Wuxue, but was afraid she’d get hurt.
Even knowing the singer had meant well, Wuxue shoved her away. She didn’t apologize; instead, she pressed her angrily. “I don’t need your help!”
“Who said I wanted to help you?” The singer wiped away her tears and immediately returned to normal. “Pay me first!”
“For what? I never asked you to save me!” Wuxue said.
“Two hundred thousand Orbs!” The singer slapped the table as if the amount were only natural.
Wuxue remembered that Torre had been about to pay when he shot her. Now this woman had the nerve to ask for the money—and to demand it as if she were completely in the right. If Wuxue hadn’t been naked, she would have jumped out of bed and beaten her senseless.
Still, Wuxue held back her anger. She’d known plenty of people like the singer. Those who lived at the very bottom of society had no use for something as meaningless as dignity. If they could gain something, they would do whatever it took to get it.
“Fine,” Wuxue said through gritted teeth. “Give me my clothes and my gun first.”
“There’s no money in your clothes,” the singer said. “Your bag has three pills and four tubes of medicine. That’s it. And if I give you your gun, how do I know you won’t shoot me?”
“Then how am I supposed to pay you like this?” Wuxue threw back the blanket and shouted, “Do you expect me to walk around town naked?”
The singer had taken Wuxue’s clothes off and bandaged her herself, but even she looked embarrassed at the sight of Wuxue’s ample chest.
“Ahem…” She cleared her throat, her face red. “Don’t go waving those around in public. I’ll get your clothes.”
Wuxue snatched up the blanket she’d thrown aside, wrapped it around herself, and followed the singer out. She didn’t want anything else to go wrong. The singer was as good as her word and took Wuxue’s clothes from behind the door. Wuxue didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the clothes and her bag, then got dressed in a few quick movements.
She wasn’t as angry as she had been before. She noticed that her clothes had been mended and the bloodstains were gone. The singer had treated her wounds and even repaired her clothes. That took care of most of Wuxue’s anger.
“Where’s my gun?” Wuxue asked.
“Where’s my money?” The singer seemed determined to get paid. “Give me the money, and I’ll give you the gun.”
Wuxue had met plenty of people like her. Sometimes, you had to teach them a lesson before they understood. She threw a punch at the singer, but the woman nimbly dodged it and jumped back several steps.
“What are you doing? Crossing the river and burning the bridge?” the singer shouted, springing away from her.
“You’re asking for it!” Wuxue attacked again. So what if she was crossing the river and burning the bridge? Her fellow bounty hunters already considered her a traitor. She deserved to be betrayed today. Wuxue swung at the singer twice, and the singer dodged both blows. The more Wuxue missed, the angrier she got. The woman had been acting like a coward, but now she was dodging Wuxue with astonishing agility.
“Stop hitting me!” At last, Wuxue landed a punch in the singer’s back. “Your gun isn’t with me! I hid it outside. Either kill me, or forget about getting it back!”
