“Kill her!”

Beneath the resplendent golden canopies of the high platform, over a dozen figures charged through the flashing blades toward Yaoying, who was protected in the center by her guards. Dressed as ordinary civilians, they shouted in Turkish, Persian, Sogdian, and Sanskrit, calling for accomplices, their faces twisted with crazed hatred.

They were all people of the court.

Yuanjue broke out in a cold sweat as he drew his sword and cut down an assassin. The man showed no fear in his eyes, continuing to charge forward covered in blood until he collapsed from exhaustion.

Heart pounding, Yuanjue looked back.

As civilians fled screaming in all directions, a figure lunged at Yaoying. Steel flashed, and someone burst from the crowd to grab her and dodge aside.

The female assassin moved like lightning. Though the man struck at her with his palm, her dagger still found its mark. Blood sprayed forth, drenching Yaoying’s clothes.

Yuanjue was terrified out of his wits. He tried to rush back to Yaoying but several assassins engaged him, blocking his path.

These weren’t ordinary assassins – they were death-sworn warriors!

As guards and assassins clashed, amid the sounds of fighting, blades crossing, screams, and chaos, Yaoying heard the man’s agonized cry.

Her heart stabbed with pain, her body trembling.

The man held her, thinking she was wounded. His arm muscles tensed as he asked anxiously, “Where are you hurt?”

His voice was hoarse.

Yaoying broke out in a cold sweat as she looked at his phoenix eyes visible above his face covering.

She wasn’t wounded – he was.

Why was Li Xuanzhen in the court?

Yaoying’s head throbbed with splitting pain until she fainted.

Li Xuanzhen’s pupils dilated. His wound seared with pain as he fell to his knees holding her, blood gushing forth.

Cold blade light descended upon them.

“Seventh Lady!”

The guards cried out in terror, trying desperately to help but were held back by other assassins.

The wind howled.

Yuanjue held his breath.

Suddenly, everything went quiet. Murderous energy surged as palm force stirred the air.

A long blade cleaved through space as a figure suddenly pounced from afar, their force fierce and mighty.

With several successive cracking sounds, the curved blades of the assassins surrounding Yaoying shattered into pieces and fell to the ground. Without even a cry of pain, they collapsed one after another.

The newcomer wore white robes and a face covering, rushing straight toward Yaoying, their body emanating powerful killing intent.

Though Li Xuanzhen was barely conscious, his arms still gripped Yaoying tightly, shielding her.

The white-robed man bent down, pushed Li Xuanzhen aside, pulled away his hands, and lifted Yaoying.

The killing sounds hadn’t ceased around them, but he paid no attention. He lowered his head to check Yaoying for wounds, his fingers moving to her neck.

Everyone in the scene froze for a moment before reacting and cutting down the remaining assassins.

Someone rushed to Yuanjue’s side and said coldly, “Remember to keep some alive!”

Yuanjue’s whole body shook. He glanced at the speaker, mouth agape, then looked back at the figure who had suddenly appeared and driven back several assassins with one stroke. He was terrified.

“General Ashina, that person…”

Bisuo held his blade horizontally and said coldly, “It’s him.”

Yuanjue shuddered.

Wasn’t the Prince at the temple? How could he be here?

He had already dispersed his cultivation, but just now he forced himself to use it… Was he now the Buddhist Son, or Sudan Gu?

Yuanjue’s face turned ashen.

Bisuo’s expression was also grim.

The guards were relieved to see the white-robed man’s timely arrival. They gathered their strength to continue fighting and soon dealt with the remaining assassins. Yuanjue and Bisuo together captured two survivors.

Nearby imperial guards arrived. Bisuo ordered them to guard all key routes and search for accomplices, keeping onlookers away. He rushed to Yaoying and asked anxiously in a low voice, “Is the Princess alright?”

Tanmoluojia held the unconscious Yaoying and shook his head, his jade eyes slowly closing behind his face covering.

She had no wounds – the blood on her clothes must be Li Xuanzhen’s.

When he saw her fall from afar, the killing intent that had suddenly surged uncontrollably in his heart gradually subsided.

He held her, feeling her soft, slow breathing, his hands trembling slightly.

She was safe.

Bisuo looked worried and whispered, “There are too many people here… I have a residence nearby, let’s go there first.”

Tanmoluojia remained silent as he stood up carrying Yaoying.

The guards gathered around, supporting the severely wounded Li Xuanzhen as they followed Bisuo through an alley to his residence.

Tanmoluojia carried Yaoying inside. Bisuo ordered servants to find clean clothes for everyone and followed them in.

Yaoying remained unconscious. Tanmoluojia laid her on a couch and checked her pulse, his brows furrowed.

“Was she frightened?” Bisuo asked carefully.

Tanmoluojia said nothing, taking a hot towel to wipe the blood droplets from Yaoying’s chin.

A maid entered to change Yaoying’s clothes.

Tanmoluojia stood and withdrew behind the curtain.

Heavy footsteps sounded outside as Yuanjue brought the captured assassins.

Tanmoluojia lowered his gaze, staring at Yaoying on the couch for a moment before turning to leave.

Bisuo followed him out. Seeing the assassins, he became furious and struck one, instantly bloodying the man’s face.

“You are people of the court. Who ordered you? Why would you try to assassinate a woman?”

Today’s assassins had targeted Yaoying. She hadn’t revealed her identity – why did they want to kill her?

The assassin spat out several bloodied teeth and laughed madly, his brown eyes fixed on Tanmoluojia standing in the corridor, his face twisted.

“Sudan Gu! You’re Sudan Gu, aren’t you?! We never thought we’d draw you out today!”

“We weren’t wrong – that woman with Yuanjue is one of yours!”

Tanmoluojia watched the assassin, his gaze cold as snow.

Bisuo’s heart skipped a beat as he broke out in a cold sweat.

The assassin laughed to the heavens: “Who ordered us? I’ll tell you – this is all your fault! You owe a mountain of blood debts. We want to cut you into a thousand pieces! You’re too skilled, appearing and disappearing like a ghost. We couldn’t get to you, so we had to wait for an opportunity…”

His blood-covered face trembled with excitement.

“Finally we found our chance… when you entered the city, when you went on the campaign… Sudan Gu, you thought you were perfect, but we’ve been tracking your movements these past two years. That woman who entered the city with you is important to you… so we followed Yuanjue…”

Bisuo clenched his fists: “Just because of a suspicion, you tried to kill someone?”

The assassin cackled: “Better to kill by mistake than let one escape. Who told that woman to be close to Sudan Gu?”

Bisuo gasped.

The assassin’s eyes bulged as he grinned hideously: “Sudan Gu, you’ve killed too many people. You should taste the pain of losing someone you love! Your family, your brothers, your friends… everyone you care about will die by our blades! What good is your martial skill? We’ll always find an opportunity to strike!”

“We failed today, but tomorrow there will be others… You don’t know how many people hate you, how many are waiting for revenge. You’ll face retribution sooner or later!”

Tanmoluojia stood motionless in the corridor, his figure solitary.

Bisuo could bear it no longer. He sprang forward, grabbed the assassin’s hair, and twisted sharply.

The assassin died instantly.

The corridor fell silent, but the assassin’s curse seemed to linger long in the courtyard air.

Bisuo’s face was pale as he looked back at Tanmoluojia.

“Regent…”

Tanmoluojia closed his eyes briefly. “I understand.”

No matter which identity he held, he would only bring harm to Princess Wenzhao.

As the Buddhist Son, believers would see her as a witch. As Sudan Gu, she would face assassination attempts like today’s again and again.

Bisuo’s heart was heavy, his eyes stinging. He couldn’t find any words of comfort.

He thought of General Saisang’er.

…

Last night, nothing had happened in the stone cave. Though the physician said Raga’s complexion had improved. Although Raga didn’t want to keep Princess Wenzhao there, it was clear that having her company truly lifted his spirits.

This morning, Raga sat in the meditation room copying sutras. After finishing a volume, some birds flew to the corridor outside, chirping and playing among the flower vines. He listened for a moment, put down his brush, and went out.

Bisuo worried about his condition flaring up and quietly followed him to the long street, thinking he was observing the people’s conditions.

Finally, Tanmoluojia stopped in a hidden corner, his gaze fixed long in one direction.

Bisuo followed his line of sight and started.

Yuanjue approached from that direction with a woman in bright clothes, her braided hair falling over her shoulders, face veiled. Though her features were hidden, her bearing as she looked around suggested she was smiling, thoroughly enjoying herself. Her guards behind her wore court attire, two of them carrying armfuls of food, drinks, and novel trinkets.

She stood below the high platform watching the songs and dances, not moving for a long time.

Tanmoluojia stood in the corner, his back to the lively performance on stage, quietly watching her through the crowd.

She played freely in the mortal realm while he watched from beyond it.

Bisuo sighed quietly.

Just then, chaos erupted as assassins struck. A woman took advantage of the guards’ distraction to lunge at Yaoying, raising a dagger. Suddenly a man flashed forward to shield Yaoying from the blow.

Bisuo’s heart raced.

In that instant, Tanmoluojia’s aura changed.

He drew his sword and charged forward. “Regent, you shouldn’t show yourself, I’ll go…”

Tanmoluojia glanced at him, grabbed the sword from his waist, and leaped away.

Bisuo froze before coming to his senses and following.

…

Recalling the scene, Bisuo still felt afraid.

This was exactly what he had feared would happen… if something happened to Princess Wenzhao, the Prince wouldn’t be able to suppress his abilities… just like General Saisang’er who went mad after his family’s tragic death…

Now, discovering the assassins had targeted Yaoying to take revenge on Sudan Gu, Bisuo felt even more terrified.

“I will assign more men to thoroughly investigate this matter, to prevent anyone else from approaching the Princess…” he suggested tentatively.

Tanmoluojia turned and entered the room.

They both understood that death-sworn warriors seeking revenge would not rest until death. There was no complete defense against them.

Before, he had faced many assassination attempts. Alone, indifferent to life and death, without desires or attachments, he had nothing to fear.

But thinking that she would face the same dangers, his thoughts churned, unable to find peace.

In his life he had wanted nothing, save this one desire.

He would bring her harm.

Tanmoluojia closed his eyes briefly and turned to enter the room.

The maid was cleaning and changing Yaoying’s clothes. Her ornaments, small dagger, cloth bundle, dew-catching flask, and brocade bags were piled beside the couch.

With a soft thud, a sheepskin package slipped from the sleeve of her discarded clothes and fell onto the felt carpet.

As the maid hurried to pick it up, a dark shadow loomed over her, retrieving the package before she could reach it.

She looked up to meet a pair of cold eyes and, face turning pale, bowed and fled from the room like an escape.

Tanmoluojia sat by the couch with the package, removed his face covering, and checked Yaoying’s pulse again through a cloth with two fingers.

Though she had no visible wounds, for some unknown reason she still hadn’t regained consciousness.

Perhaps she had truly been frightened.

Tanmoluojia withdrew his hand and felt her forehead, his brows slightly furrowed.

Footsteps approached as Yuanjue entered the room, saying, “Regent, the Wei Dynasty Crown Prince’s bleeding has stopped. The physician says his life isn’t in danger, but with his old wounds not yet healed and now new ones added, it’s truly perilous. He’s drifting in and out of consciousness, asking about Princess Wenzhao, insisting on seeing her.”

Tanmoluojia said flatly, “Keep him away.”

Yuanjue acknowledged.

“Today, she…” Tanmoluojia suddenly said, paused for a moment, then continued, “Was the Princess happy today?”

Yuanjue carefully observed his expression and answered softly after some thought: “Today the Princess was very happy… She said each region has different customs, each with its excitement. She even bought something for you… The Princess also said she wanted to dance with the performers…”

Tanmoluojia listened quietly, his face expressionless, then waved his hand.

Yuanjue withdrew.

Tanmoluojia glanced at the items piled on the table beside the couch. His gaze stopped as he reached out to open a brocade bag.

A stack of sutras was revealed.

He pulled them out.

The sutras were bound like palm leaves, but instead of being threaded through a single hole in the middle, they were folded. The pages were made of sheepskin that had been processed through complex procedures to become soft and thin. They were decorated with exquisite patterns, the lines drawn with gold, silver, and gemstone powder, delicate and ingenious.

He had many sutras in his room, all heavy volumes. Once when Prajñā asked her to find some sutras, she carried a large stack, muttering quietly that the sutras were too heavy and should be made into portable volumes for convenience, with beautiful illustrations to make them more attractive.

Since that time when he said he only needed a few sutras, she often brought him new ones, sending him copies whenever new styles were printed, and borrowing his manuscripts to print.

These few sutras must be new styles.

Tanmoluojia stuffed the sutras back into the brocade bag and picked up the package he had retrieved earlier to return it. Something occurred to him and his hand paused as he opened the bag.

A sweet fragrance wafted out – fresh honeycomb inside, amber in color.

She had once gazed at him expectantly, asking, “Is it sweet?”

He had replied, “Sweet.”

And she had smiled.

Tanmoluojia’s lowered eyelashes trembled slightly as he gripped the package.

The person on the bed stirred.

Tanmoluojia came back to himself, put down the package, and looked at Yaoying.

She hadn’t awakened, her eyes tightly shut, her body trembling slightly.

Tanmoluojia frowned, reached out to brush aside her hair, felt her neck and forehead, and checked her pulse again. There was nothing unusual, yet her brows were deeply furrowed, her face pale white, her expression pained, her body constantly shaking.

“It hurts…”

She murmured faintly.

Tanmoluojia suddenly stood, sending Yuanjue to fetch a physician.

The physician hurried over, checked her pulse, and said puzzled, “From the pulse, the Princess has no injuries, neither internal nor external…”

As he spoke, Yaoying on the couch shook more violently, cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. Suddenly she coughed and vomited blood.

Everyone else in the room turned pale.

Tanmoluojia ignored everything else, sat on the couch, and held Yaoying up, carefully checking again for any hard-to-find wounds, his fingers probing her acupoints, but still finding nothing unusual.

Bisuo frowned and asked, “Could she have been poisoned?”

The physician shook his head: “There are no signs of poisoning either.”

Yuanjue was so anxious his eyes turned red – it was all his fault for not taking better care of the Princess!

The physician consulted several medical texts and checked Yaoying’s pulse again, his expression changing drastically.

“How can this be? In just a moment… the Princess’s pulse is weak, it’s like… it’s like…”

He shuddered, not daring to finish his words.

Tanmoluojia remained silent. He knew medicine too and understood what the physician left unsaid.

She was fading.

In that instant, he felt as if he had fallen into an abyss.

Yaoying continued trembling slightly. Tanmoluojia held her tightly, his face still calm and composed though turbulence churned in his eyes. He said, “Bring the Princess’s guards here, ask if she has had these symptoms before.”

“Question the assassins, ask if they used poison.”

His tone was more urgent than usual.

Yuanjue and Bisuo rushed out. Soon, Yuanjue returned with a guard who had served in the prince’s mansion and knew more than the others.

Seeing the unconscious Yaoying, he fell to his knees with a thud: “The Princess had a serious illness before… the Young Master consulted all the court physicians, but none could cure her…”

Yuanjue nearly fainted, hurriedly asking, “Then how did the Princess recover?”

The guard trembled: “Later the Princess pulled through on her own… The Lady said perhaps it was the Princess’s deceased uncle protecting her… The physician from Jingnan said when the Princess’s illness strikes, no medicine helps…”

Yuanjue’s face turned ashen.

Footsteps sounded at the door as Bisuo entered, his expression grave. He shook his head and said, “The assassins couldn’t get close to the Princess. They didn’t use poison.”

Tanmoluojia’s hands holding Yaoying suddenly tightened.

“What about the Duke of Wei?”

Bisuo replied, “We’ve sent people to fetch him. The Duke doesn’t know what happened here yet, no word from him.”

“Summon other physicians.”

Bisuo acknowledged and instructed his subordinates.

Soon, physicians Bisuo trusted arrived successively. After checking Yaoying’s pulse, they all shook their heads and sighed: “These symptoms are too strange…”

Everyone was at a loss. Finally, someone suggested trying bloodletting, while another proposed chanting sutras.

Bisuo was frantic and drove out all these unhelpful people.

Yaoying’s breathing grew increasingly faint.

Tanmoluojia held her tightly, circulating his internal energy to try to warm her, but she showed no response. She grew colder, her lips turning blue.

His brow reddened, turbulence churning in his eyes with faint light flickering through.

Bisuo watched in terror, silently praying that nothing would happen to Princess Wenzhao.

Yuanjue pressed his palms together, pacing the room while loudly reciting sutras, begging for Buddha’s protection.

Yaoying grew weaker still, her pulse barely detectable.

Tanmoluojia closed his eyes for a long while, supporting her neck, his arms tightening slightly.

He had once taken her to the pagoda to pray for blessings.

Under Buddha’s gaze, he had prayed for her to be free from illness and affliction, and to live a life of joy.

Then, he had confessed to Buddha his mixed thoughts and private desires – he was the one who had developed feelings, it had nothing to do with her.

He had never asked anything for himself.

He only wished for her peace and contentment.

The world is full of fear, life as precarious as morning dew. From love arises worry, from love arises fear. One who is free from love has neither worry nor fear.

All is empty, life and death cycle endlessly. Though he viewed all things with detachment, he still hoped she could fully enjoy the mortal realm.

She was so good.

Tanmoluojia held Yaoying, feeling her life slipping away.

So sudden.

Just like when she had arrived beside him, silent, descending from heaven.

He felt as if he were falling endlessly, the abyss bottomless, everything growing darker and colder around him.

Yuanjue began sobbing softly, while Bisuo was drenched in sweat.

Tanmoluojia removed the prayer beads from Yaoying’s wrist and began reciting sutras.

As the sky darkened, candles were lit in the room. Physicians discussed in the next room, those brewing medicine vigorously fanned the flames, servants came and went, the atmosphere heavy.

Tanmoluojia’s eyes remained tightly closed.

After an unknown time, the person in his arms suddenly stirred, making soft murmuring sounds.

Warm breath fell on his chest.

Tanmoluojia froze, his fingers gripping the prayer beads suddenly tightening.

The person in his arms twisted slightly and opened her eyes, lashes trembling, eyes moist, face snow-white.

“Is Li Xuanzhen alright?”

She asked hazily.

Li Xuanzhen had taken a blade for her. Her heart had been in agony earlier, her whole body in pain, and she had just recovered. If something had happened to him, she wouldn’t be able to bear it!

Tanmoluojia’s eyes were deep and dark as he remained silent, checking her pulse with two fingers.

Her pulse was still weak but at least steadier, much better than before.

He lowered his head to examine her complexion closely. Her face was covered in fine sweat as if she had been pulled from the water, but her lips had regained some color, no longer as pale as before.

The body in his arms gradually warmed.

Tanmoluojia closed his eyes, gripping the prayer beads.

Yaoying hadn’t fully regained clarity, unaware of what had happened. Feeling sweaty and uncomfortable, she struggled to sit up, asking again, “Where is Li Xuanzhen?”

Tanmoluojia’s face remained expressionless.

The others in the room had been about to go pray before Buddha when they saw Yaoying, who had been at death’s door just moments ago, awaken on her own. They stared in shock for a moment before their faces lit with wild joy as they rushed forward together.

“Princess! You’re alright!”

“Are you feeling better? Where does it hurt?”

Yaoying rubbed her head, “I’m fine…”

She remembered what happened before she fainted and glanced at Tanmoluojia beside her, startled.

“Why is the Regent here?”

Tanmoluojia stood and left without a word.