The Northern Song Dynasty returned south, seeking the truth of the Dao.

Wang Huanzhen struggled to his feet and half-crawled into the reeds. He stretched out his left hand, parted a small gap, and looked in the direction from which the sound of horses' hooves came. He saw six golden men dressed in leather armor.

He was looking hurried, constantly urging his horse on, seemingly in a great hurry. The one leading the pack was the same man who had chased him earlier. The man's distinctive braid and full beard had left a deep impression on him.

Wang Huanzhen watched the golden figures depart into the distance, letting out a long sigh of relief. Although he didn't know why they were in such a hurry, it was still good news.

The more anxious the other side was, the safer Lin Qingyan was. Wang Huanzhen, despite not being very good at history in his previous life, vaguely remembered that the Jurchen invasion of the south didn't seem to directly conquer the Song Dynasty.

He turned and lay down on the reeds, looking at the completely dark sky, trying to regain his strength while pondering what to do next. His immediate priority was to go back and find Lin Qingyan.

Their village was located on the edge of Binzhou. Judging from the attire of the six Jurchen riders, they must have been Jurchen scouts. This indicates that Jurchen scouts had already reached Binzhou.

That means Yanjing (Beijing) had likely already fallen. In other words, the Jurchens' first southward invasion had begun. Heading north now would only lead to certain death!

Therefore, the only path left for him was southward! Moreover, Wang Zhen vaguely remembered that although the Jurchens did not conquer the Song Dynasty on their first southward expedition, they did manage to reach Bianjing (Kaifeng).

Therefore, if they wanted to head south, they had to avoid the route taken by the Jurchen army. Binzhou was next to the Bohai Sea, so if they went south along the coastline, they would be much safer.

After thinking it through, Wang Zhen raised his hand and felt some strength returning. He grabbed the reeds and slowly stood up. His back injury still ached.

But the cold sensation from before was gone, which meant the wound wasn't deep and the bleeding had probably stopped. He grabbed a handful of reeds, wove them haphazardly, and draped them over himself.

It was early autumn, and although the reeds appeared yellowish on the surface, their interiors remained emerald green. Therefore, they were still very resilient, and the fluffy reeds, like cotton, could keep you warm when draped over your body.

Wang Zhenhuan looked around and determined his location. He was now downstream of the river, less than a mile from the village. But after everything that had happened...

He was like a frightened bird, even though he had just witnessed the Golden Men's scouts leave. But no one dared to say that this was the only group of scouts.

So after thinking it over, he decided to avoid the main road and instead walk along the reeds by the riverbank. Although this would be slower, it would allow him to hide should he encounter the Jurchens.

He was covered in wounds and had just struggled in the icy river for a long time. Although he had regained some strength, he could only barely walk, let alone fight, and even running was difficult.

Wang Zhen carefully made his way up the riverbank. After walking for about fifteen minutes, he finally emerged from the reeds. By then, the fire in the village had been extinguished.

A pungent smell of blood, mixed with the aroma of burning charcoal, lingered in the air. Wang Zhenhuan stared, his eyes red, at the village now reduced to ruins.

Just hours ago, this place was a scene of warmth and harmony; how could it vanish in an instant? These foreign races truly have no sense of shame or morality; they don't even spare ordinary people!

Wiping his eyes, Wang Zhenhuan turned and walked towards the woods on the opposite bank of the river. Standing at the bridgehead, he recalled the place where he and Lin Qingyan had hidden earlier and determined their approximate location.

He plunged headlong into the bushes; by then, it was completely dark. It seemed that the events of the night had angered the heavens, for even the moon had not appeared.

The sky was overcast, and the forest was pitch black; anything more than ten feet away was impossible to see with the naked eye. Left with no other option, Wang Zhenhuan had to grope his way forward.

They slowly made their way forward, groping their way through for about half an incense stick's time. Wang Zhenhuan finally found the bushes where he and Lin Qingyan had hidden. But the sight before him made his face turn deathly pale!

In that shrubbery, the fallen leaves that had been piled together had all scattered. In the middle of the pile of leaves, a human figure could be vaguely seen, but the space inside was empty.

Lin Qingyan has disappeared!!

Wang Zhenhuan felt a chill run through his body and immediately collapsed to the ground. He stared blankly at the pile of fallen leaves on the ground. His mind was already imagining the torture Lin Qingyan had suffered at the hands of the Jurchens.

Lin Qingyan was the only person he knew in this world. She was also the driving force and hope that kept him going. Now that hope was gone, Wang Zhenhuan suddenly felt that everything seemed to have lost its meaning.

Often, people don't live for themselves. A large part of it is because of family and friends. It is because of these emotional bonds that a person can be considered a complete person.

It's like fruit and roots, flowers and leaves. Fruit comes from roots, and flowers come from leaves. But now, everything is gone.

Wang Zhen was once again completely alone, just like when he first arrived in this world. He was like a walking corpse, a lost soul. He sat on the ground, leaning against a tree trunk, looking up at the pitch-black sky.

The gloomy sky, like his heart, was pitch black and devoid of light, and tears silently streamed down his face. He didn't cry when he witnessed the villagers being slaughtered.

He didn't cry when he was being chased by the Jurchens. Even when he fell into the water and nearly suffocated, he didn't shed a single tear. But now, this man, who appears to be only a teenager...

Inside, there lies the soul of a young boy. Sitting on the ground, crying like a child, his very existence in this world has lost its meaning. Is there any point in him still living?

Wang Zhenhuan thought this to himself, then looked at the sky and closed his eyes. Rest or sleep, it didn't matter. He was too tired; if he could just fall asleep like this, perhaps it would be a relief!

With his eyes closed, his consciousness began to fade. The cold ground gradually took away the warmth from his body. A gust of autumn wind blew by, scattering the fallen leaves on the ground with a rustling sound.

In that half-dreaming, half-awake state, Wang Huanzhen seemed to hear a familiar voice. He slowly opened his eyes and looked into the distance. He saw a girl in a bright yellow dress skipping and hopping towards him.

She kept calling his name: "True brother! True brother..."

Wang Huanzhen opened his mouth and murmured softly, "You came to pick me up? That's so nice..."