Shiliang could never have imagined that Guxi would be so utterly ruthless—that he would truly want her dead!
This man had once cared for her so tenderly, had cherished her so completely. On every mission, he had always shielded her, refusing to let her suffer even the smallest injury!
It wasn’t as though the Empress of Eastern Qin and Chu Tiange had never tried to set their sights on Guxi. She had even thought, once or twice, that if Guxi learned of her betrayal, he would still protect her—might even betray Prince Yao’s household alongside her!
But never, never had she imagined that Guxi would draw his blade against her!
All because of Han Ziqing. Even the man who had lived through hardship at her side day and night, the man who was infatuated with her—even he had turned his sword on her because of Han Ziqing!
Perhaps what Shiliang felt wasn’t resentment at all, but jealousy—jealousy so fierce it was driving her mad. “Guxi, you… are you really content to be someone’s servant your whole life?”
“Don’t you dare try to sow discord between us! Shiliang, I know exactly what kind of temper you have. You’re proud, stubborn—but pride and betrayal are two entirely different things. Our mistress made it perfectly clear from the start—she wanted us to learn as much as we could from her, so that one day we could stand on our own, could have our own mercenary company!” Guxi said earnestly.
“Learn more? If it weren’t for Xuanyuan Lige teaching her the Wind Blade technique, if it weren’t for Prince Yao secretly protecting her the whole time, she might not even be alive today. What exactly am I supposed to learn from her? How to win favor?” Shiliang sneered coldly.
If before this she had been constrained only by the hundred beggar lives at stake, bound to obey Xuanyuan Lige, then now she had changed completely. All the jealousy buried inside her had come surging up, leaving nothing but bitter defiance.
Ziqing no longer wished to waste more words on this girl—listening any longer would only make her angrier, more despairing. She kicked the fake Wuzheng aside and said coldly, “Yingzi, see her out.”
“Yes!” Yingzi had been waiting for this moment for a long while now, and stepped forward at once.
Shiliang immediately dodged away. “Han Ziqing, I won’t go. If you’ve got the guts, kill me with your own hands!”
This was undeniably a provocation. Shiliang stared straight into Ziqing’s eyes and even took a step closer. “Han Ziqing, if you’ve got the guts, kill me with your own hands. Hah—my betrayal really is your failure, isn’t it? Go on, kill me yourself. I’m just like you, you know—just a little beggar, the kind who won’t stay down no matter how much she’s beaten or cursed! You said it yourself once—even if someone tramples your face into the dirt, you can still crawl back up. Only death is the end. Once you’re dead, there’s nothing left. Come on, then. Kill me!”
Shiliang spoke softly, almost gently, but her words carried a hypnotic, needling power. Even Yingzi and Guxi standing nearby felt their chests tighten, unable to bring themselves to act. But this kind of provocation had absolutely no effect on Ziqing whatsoever.
Once Han Ziqing’s heart turned cold, it would never warm again.
She let out a cold laugh, speaking word by word. “The thing I hate most in this life is betrayal. It is the filthiest, most despicable act there is. Shiliang, let me tell you—even if it were Jun Beiyue who betrayed me today, I would not forgive him… let alone you!”
With that, she abruptly drew Liuguang and, without another word, swung it down straight at Shiliang’s head. Mercenaries were the people who walked closest to death of anyone—and the fear of death could never escape their eyes.
Ziqing knew this girl. She was afraid to die.
Sure enough, before the blade could fall, Shiliang surrendered. “Wait!”
But Ziqing didn’t stop. Shiliang dodged frantically, crying out in terror, “I’ll go through it! I’ll crawl through!”
At those words, tears very nearly spilled from Ziqing’s eyes. She said coldly, “Shiliang, if you had chosen to die, it wouldn’t disgust me nearly as much as this.”
To feel disappointment, heartbreak, over someone like this wasn’t worth it. Ziqing was only furious at herself, hated herself, for having been so blind as to save someone with so little backbone.
She slowly lowered her blade, refusing to look at Shiliang, and turned her cold gaze toward the dog door instead.
Shiliang, caught between hatred and terror, saw Ziqing lower the sword and immediately scrambled as far away as she could, all the way to the dog door. No one urged her on—everyone simply watched.
Yingzi scoffed repeatedly in disdain, furious that Prince Yao’s household had produced such a spineless traitor. Guxi’s eyes were plainly brimming with tears—was there anything in the world crueler than watching, with your own eyes, someone you had once liked and admired reveal such a shameless, cowardly desire to cling to life at any cost?
Guxi’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and yet, with every inch Shiliang crawled, his heart grew colder and colder. For a long, long time afterward, no one ever saw Guxi smile again. But that, of course, is a story for later.
Shiliang lay flat on the ground, hands braced against the edges of the dog door. Nanzhao’s dog doors were somewhat smaller than those of Da Zhou—thin as she was, it still wasn’t easy for her to squeeze through.
Her eyes, in that moment, turned dark as a devil’s. She gritted her teeth and swore silently to herself: Han Ziqing had her pride, did she? Well, if she wasn’t going to kill her today, if she was going to humiliate her like this instead, then one day, one day, Shiliang would make her pay this back a hundredfold!
Without looking back, she steeled her heart and forced herself through with all her strength. The moment she was outside, Shiliang scrambled to her feet, turned, and spoke through the gate, word by word. “Han Ziqing, I bet Jun Beiyue never told you—he took me into the Pharmacist Clan’s poison den. I fainted, and he was the one who carried me out. Hah!”
The moment those words left her mouth, inside the room Shiliang froze in shock herself. Yingzi kicked the door open with a bang and rushed out, while Shiliang spun around to flee.
But in that same instant, both of them stopped dead—even Ziqing, still inside, froze. There, not far beyond the gate, stood Jun Beiyue, having appeared there at some unknown moment, calmly watching everything unfold.
Shiliang panicked instantly, her cheeks flushing red all the way to her ears. She didn’t dare meet Jun Beiyue’s eyes, instinctively wanting to flee—but his cold, indifferent expression left her frozen in place, unable to move at all.
Ziqing stood in silence, watching Jun Beiyue. For the first time in her life she felt something like this—an indescribable, bitter ache surging up all at once, choking her chest, leaving her utterly at a loss for what to do.
Jun Beiyue offered no explanation. He only said flatly, “Didn’t Qing’er already tell you to get out? Why are you still here?”
At those words, Shiliang’s heart clenched a hundred times tighter than Ziqing’s own—but the most pitiful thing was that she truly had no choice but to leave.
Leaving like this was still better than dying, better than staying and being used to raise poison!
Once she was gone, Jun Beiyue shot Yingzi a glance, and Yingzi understood at once—while the princess consort wasn’t paying attention, he slipped out quietly to follow her.
Prince Yao hadn’t kept Shiliang’s betrayal a secret from his consort—but he was absolutely determined to keep the continued poison-raising a secret from her. He had invested far too much effort and thought into Shiliang to let her go so easily now!
Where those she despised were concerned, the princess consort held to her own principles. But where Prince Yao’s own enemies were concerned, he never bothered with principles at all—and when this man abandoned principle entirely, he was, quite simply, more terrifying than any devil.
Seeing Yingzi leave, Guxi understood perfectly well what he intended to do. But his heart had already gone cold. He didn’t follow. Instead, he turned and walked away. Soon, only Jun Beiyue and Ziqing remained in the room.
Ziqing stood rooted where she was, lips pressed tightly together as she stared at Jun Beiyue. She had to admit her mind was completely blank. Her eyes stung, ached—she had never loved before, had never been wounded by love before.
The corner of Jun Beiyue’s mouth curved with tender heartache. Slowly, he shut the door behind him and stepped closer, one step at a time.