The trench was colder than it looked.
Ju Xian leaned back against the muddy wall, breath shallow. A bead of blood
trickled down her cheek from a cut above her brow. Her robes, soaked and
clinging, made every movement stiff. Across from her, Taotao sat with his leg
stretched out, ankle swollen, and face twisted in discomfort.
"I think I twisted something," Taotao muttered, rubbing his foot. "Might just
be my pride. Hard to tell."
Ju Xian didn't laugh. Her gaze was fixed on the jagged edge of the trench
above, where rainwater trickled in thin streams and vines hung like limp
ropes.
"We can't climb that. Not in this condition," she said quietly.
Taotao let out a dry chuckle. "Perfect. Stuck in a hole with a noblewoman who thinks she's always right and a foot that's protesting my entire
existence."
"I don't think I'm always right," Ju Xian snapped, finally turning to him. "But
at least I'm trying to do something useful."
"Useful?" he scoffed. "Like dragging us both into the woods to hide in a pit?"
"I had a plan!"
"You call this a plan?" He waved dramatically at their muddy prison. "It's a
trench, Ju Xian! A trench! With rain, snakes, and a very sarcastic thief who
wants out."
Her tone sharpened. "I never asked you to follow me. You chose to stay."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh right, because being mistaken as your kidnapper
and chased by guards was entirely my dream job."
They both fell silent, breaths heavy.
Ju Xian spoke again, more quietly this time. "I've seen people heal, you
know. Apothecaries traveling through towns. I used to sneak out to watch
them. They didn't just treat wounds—they gave people hope. I always
wanted to be one."
Taotao looked at her sideways. "So why the noble airs?"
"Because my life was never mine. Rules. Expectations. Marriage contracts."
Her fists clenched. "This is the first time I've ever felt free—even if I'm
bleeding in a trench."
He nodded slowly, then smirked. "Freedom smells like wet socks and
crushed dignity."
"Better than perfume and lies."
They sat in silence again. The rain above softened to a mist.
"Maybe we're both cursed," Taotao muttered. "Born into messes we didn't
ask for."
"I don't believe in curses," Ju Xian replied. "Only choices."
"Then I must've made all the wrong ones."
She looked over at him. "You're here, aren't you?"
He gave a half-laugh. "If this counts as 'here,' then yes."
A rustle came from the far end of the trench.
Taotao's eyes narrowed. "Did you see that?"
Ju Xian followed his gaze. A shape moved among the leaves.
A sleek, dark snake slid silently from under a log, tongue flicking, eyes fixed.
"Please tell me that's a very shiny root," Taotao whispered.
Ju Xian's hand reached for her satchel. "Stay still."
The snake coiled, tense and watching.
Their argument was forgotten.
Only the silence remained—and the sense that fate, once again, had dropped
them into something far deeper than they expected.