In the pitch-black curtain of rain, a silhouette gradually emerged, stepping one by one onto the shattered Xiang Palace.

The disguise on her face had been washed clean by the rain, her wet hair clinging to her pale face, and the coldness in her eyes from firing the gun and killing had not yet dissipated.

She hadn’t waited for him to return.

She had come to find him, just like that night long, long ago.

That day, An Xian suddenly said to him: “The Concubine Yu who is coming to serve in your bedchamber today seems unusual, her makeup and dress are vastly different from usual…”

He didn’t understand: “What do you mean?”

An Xian replied in confusion: “Your Majesty instructed this servant that if any concubines coming to serve in your bedchamber had anything different from before, we should report it to Your Majesty.”

Only then did he remember—that was an instruction from long ago. At that time, he hadn’t given up looking for that fellow traveler from another world. After so many years, even he had almost forgotten.

Regardless, he still went through the motions. Feeling the woman kneel before the bed, he simply said: “Get out.”

Then he acted like someone who had just arrived from another world, asking the guards: “Will she die if she doesn’t stay to serve in my bed?”

If the other person was a traveler from another world, they should have reacted by now.

He dismissed the guards. Behind the bed curtain, the woman remained silent for a long time.

Xiahou Dan laughed self-mockingly.

Just then, a slender white hand lifted the bed curtain.

The person was indeed dressed incredibly beautifully, yet had a pair of very clear eyes.

He no longer dared to believe in anything pure. But he also didn’t want to easily extinguish these eyes, so he calmly told her to make a bed on the floor and make do for the night.

After a moment of silence, he heard a trembling voice: “How are you?”

Xiahou Dan smiled at her: “You came.”

Yu Wanyin knelt before him, her hands shaking as she tore off a piece of cloth to bandage the wound on his chest: “It’s nothing, it’s just a small wound, just need to stop the bleeding…”

“Wanyin.” Xiahou Dan looked at her. “I have something to confess to you.”

His lips had turned pale, and his words sounded like the beginning of a deathbed confession. Yu Wanyin’s eyes immediately reddened: “Don’t say it! Keep it to yourself and live to tell me when we get back!”

Xiahou Dan smiled: “Afraid I’ll die after I finish speaking?”

“Shut up!”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t die until you agree. I haven’t fulfilled your dream yet…”

His words broke off abruptly.

Since Yu Wanyin couldn’t persuade him to stop talking, she silenced his mouth in another way.

Xiahou Dan couldn’t remember when his senses had begun to grow numb. Perhaps it was the first day he arrived in this world, perhaps it was the day he killed someone, or perhaps after the daily headaches, his body had activated a self-protection mechanism.

But at this moment, he was birthed anew by this inexplicable world.

The sound of rain was deafening as if someone had lifted a soundproof curtain.

All the pain within his body became a thousand times clearer, every nerve screaming and burning.

Her lips seemed forged from molten lava. A strong taste of rust spread from his throat, rolling into their entangled lips and tongues, not knowing who was giving whom a mouthful of blood.

This body reflexively shrank back, as if trying to escape the flames. Yet Xiahou Dan tensed his muscles, leaning forward instead, raising his hand to grip the back of her neck.

The downpour shattered three thousand particles of dust; on the earth, some were dying, some were kissing.

Until Yu Wanyin couldn’t breathe and struggled slightly.

Xiahou Dan released her and smiled: “Sweet.”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

You’re quite skilled at this, aren’t you?

As if bewitched, she leaned in, wanting more.

Bei Zhou: “Excuse the interruption.”

Bei Zhou had blood at the corner of his mouth, having suffered some internal injuries.

The two secret guards Yu Wanyin had brought had been crucial at the key moment, helping him subdue Tur. Bei Zhou dragged the tightly bound Tur, standing patiently to the side watching their passionate farewell, waiting who knows how long before politely interrupting.

Those two secret guards were checking the casualties in the hall. Several guards who weren’t dead yet were being helped up for treatment. They also found two Yan people who were still breathing, bound them as well and threw them beside Tur.

Yu Wanyin suddenly came to her senses and turned away awkwardly. Bei Zhou noticed the wound on Xiahou Dan’s chest and his expression changed: “Dan’er!”

Xiahou Dan was wearing a jet-black dragon robe, so the blood wasn’t obvious, but the cloth Yu Wanyin had used to bandage him was completely soaked red.

Xiahou Dan looked down: “It’s nothing.”

Bei Zhou’s face darkened, one hand hovering above Tur’s crown: “We don’t need to keep this one alive, right?”

Tur hadn’t expected that their operation, which had every advantage of timing and position, would end in defeat. Now he was completely dejected, only his sunken eyes still fixed on Xiahou Dan, burning with ghostly fires.

He spat: “Indeed, the Xia people only have treacherous weapons and androgynous monsters.”

Bei Zhou struggled to suppress the urge to strike down with his palm: “Dan’er, kill him?”

“Kill him!” A shrill female voice suddenly rang out from the corner.

Yu Wanyin was startled, only then noticing the disheveled Empress Dowager sitting on the ground.

Empress Dowager: “What’s the point of keeping him? To wait for him to collaborate with Prince Duan from the inside?”

Xiahou Dan said in surprise: “I almost forgot you were still alive.”

Empress Dowager: “…”

Xiahou Dan had completely torn off the facade before this assassination attempt began and now had no intention of mending it. Without even a glance at the Empress Dowager, he stared at Tur, falling into brief contemplation.

Yu Wanyin, distracted by this interruption, returned to clear thinking. Prince Duan’s men were still watching vigilantly in the forest, unable to see what was happening in Xiang Palace, and wouldn’t attack directly for now. But after a while, if there was still no movement here, they would come to investigate.

Once they discovered Xiahou Dan wasn’t dead, how would they react? At this point, wouldn’t they simply finish the job of regicide and then frame the Yan people?

Bei Zhou had thought of this too, glancing outside: “In a confrontation now, I have no chance of victory.”

Yu Wanyin looked warily at the Empress Dowager and lowered her voice: “Yang Duojie went to mobilize the Imperial Guards.”

Xiahou Dan: “The Imperial Guards might not be easy to mobilize.”

Yu Wanyin: “I trust his way with words.”

Xiahou Dan smiled: “Then we’ll wait.”

Tur suddenly laughed: “Don’t waste your energy.”

He stared at Xiahou Dan’s chest, his eyes revealing malicious joy: “You’ll die soon. We coated our weapons with Qiang country poison; your wound won’t heal, your blood will keep flowing, keep flowing until it’s all gone.”

Yu Wanyin’s face changed drastically.

Bei Zhou grabbed his collar: “Where’s the antidote?”

Tur burst into laughter.

Knowing death was imminent, he only wanted to take pleasure in their pain: “Just like that Wang Zhao! Why are you all looking at me like that? Of course, he’s dead, intercepted, and killed on the way with the real envoy team. Ha ha ha, he died a miserable death, gasping his last breath on the ground, still stretching his neck to gaze toward Xia country!”

Yu Wanyin trembled all over.

A cold hand gripped her wrist.

Xiahou Dan used her support to stand up, picking up a sword from the ground, swaying slightly as he walked toward Tur, leaving a bloody footprint with each step.

But he passed by Tur, raising his sword toward one of the Yan men nearby.

The Yan man screamed.

Then screamed again.

Xiahou Dan mechanically raised the sword and stabbed down, each time avoiding vital spots. The Yan man’s intestines spilled out, his screams like a pig being slaughtered.

Yu Wanyin covered her mouth and turned away.

Several drops of hot blood splattered onto Tur’s face. His pupils contracted as he struggled violently: “Xiahou Dan! Are you still a sovereign ruler? Let them go, if you have the guts, come at me!”

Xiahou Dan’s sword got stuck in the man’s ribs and couldn’t be pulled out. He bent down to pick up another one and moved to the other Yan man, continuing his brutal work.

Tur raged impotently, cursing incoherently.

Xiahou Dan raised his sword once more but couldn’t bring it down. Yu Wanyin had embraced him from behind, her voice trembling: “Stop, you can’t lose any more blood…”

Xiahou Dan paused. In that moment, Bei Zhou moved with lightning speed, giving those two men a quick end.

Xiahou Dan took a breath and released his grip, the long sword clanging as it fell to the ground.

He stood unsteadily, his whole body starting to slide down, yet not wanting to collapse in front of Tur. Yu Wanyin sensed this and struggled to support his body, signaling to the secret guards with her eyes.

A secret guard brought a chair from the hall, helping Xiahou Dan sit down. When Yu Wanyin released him, she found her hands covered in dark blood.

She clenched her jaw and wiped her hands behind her back.

Xiahou Dan lowered his gaze to look at the red-eyed Tur and spoke calmly: “Wang Zhao’s diplomatic mission was a secret, even his parents didn’t know the truth. I told him the journey was dangerous, and if he was unwilling, he didn’t have to go.”

Tur hadn’t expected that after his fit of rage, Xiahou Dan would suddenly start talking about this, and stared at him in bewilderment.

“He said peace negotiations were a matter of national importance and could not be avoided. If anything happened to him, he asked me to inform his elderly parents, to build him a cenotaph, so his spirit could return to his hometown.”

Xiahou Dan looked at Tur: “I want him to die with dignity, to comfort his spirit in heaven.”

Tur: “?”

Xiahou Dan said something he never could have dreamed of: “Now, let’s negotiate peace.”

Except for Yu Wanyin, all the living people doubted their ears.

The room’s silence was broken by the Empress Dowager’s curses. The woman’s sanity verged on collapse as she dragged her injured leg toward them, seemingly intending to take matters into her own hands and kill Tur.

Xiahou Dan simply told the secret guards: “Take care of the Empress Dowager.”

The Empress Dowager was taken care of.

Xiahou Dan: “Wanyin, give the gun to Uncle Bei and let him watch the main entrance.”

Yu Wanyin looked at him worriedly, and Xiahou Dan returned a reassuring smile: he knew what he was doing.

Tur: “What nonsense are you talking about? You’re a dead man, I’m a condemned man—what the hell are we negotiating?”

Xiahou Dan was very calm: “Indeed. Just think of it as a dying man’s rambling. By this time tomorrow, my dear imperial brother and your dear uncle will be raising their glasses in celebration.”

Unknowingly, the streets and alleys of the capital had become empty, as if the heavy rain had washed it into a ghost town. The common people living at the emperor’s feet had a beast-like instinct for danger and had all shut their doors and windows, hiding in their homes.

Yang Duojie shook the shackles on his hands: “Brother, where are you from?”

The deputy commander sitting across from him cracked sunflower seeds, ignoring him.

This man had been promoted by Zhao Wucheng. Zhao had ordered him to detain Yang Duojie for questioning, but he understood that this man only needed to be detained, not questioned. By dragging things out, they would let the emperor on the mountain die, and that would be the end of it.

Yang Duojie smiled: “Brother, meeting you is fate. With nothing else to do, let me tell you a story, how about that?”

The deputy commander spat out a seed shell and turned to look at the rain outside the window.

Yang Duojie continued regardless of whether he was listening: “They say when Cao Cao went to conquer Yuan Shu, they encountered a severe drought, and the army ran short of food. The food officer asked Cao Cao what to do since everyone had nothing to eat. Cao Cao said: ‘Replace the large measures with small ones when giving out rations.’ The food officer then asked what to do if the soldiers became resentful. Cao Cao said not to worry, he had a good plan.”

The sound of cracking sunflower seeds slowed down.

Yang Duojie pretended not to notice: “When the rations were reduced, and the soldiers indeed became furious. Cao Cao told the food officer: ‘I need to borrow something from you to stabilize the army—your head.’ The food officer was shocked and pleaded innocence. Cao Cao was also quite rueful: ‘I know you’re innocent, but if I don’t kill you, should I kill myself instead?'”

A flash of lightning struck outside the window. At that moment, a thunderclap fell directly above them, like a pillar of heaven collapsing down upon them.

Deputy commander: “…”

The deputy commander sneered: “What are you trying to say with all these roundabout stories?”

Yang Duojie shook his head with a tsk: “Brother, your disadvantage is that you haven’t read enough books. Why would Zhao Wucheng publicly order you to ‘interrogate’ me when he could have simply told you to watch me?”

The deputy commander was stunned.

Yang Duojie: “For failing to rescue the emperor, someone’s head must roll, right? Even if the emperor dies, Prince Duan will still need to make a show of accountability. Zhao Wucheng is Prince Duan’s dog, so he won’t be in trouble. The only one who will suffer is… the one who failed to produce results from the interrogation and delayed sending troops.”

He spoke calmly: “The moment Zhao Wucheng gave that order, brother, your head was already being borrowed.”

The deputy commander laughed loudly: “Such obvious attempts to sow discord—do you think I’d fall for it?”

Yang Duojie shrugged: “If you don’t believe me, so be it. Each man has his fate.”

Deputy commander: “Then shut up!”

Yang Duojie indeed shut his mouth, not saying another word.

The deputy commander finished half a plate of sunflower seeds, glancing at him repeatedly, and finally couldn’t help but ask: “If what you say is true, how should I respond?”

Yang Duojie kept his mouth firmly shut.

The deputy commander slammed the table: “Speak up!”

Yang Duojie smiled mockingly: “How can there be such an ill-mannered person in this world, asking for guidance without showing proper respect…”

The deputy commander swiftly drew his knife and held it to his neck: “I can be even more ill-mannered. Will you speak or not?”

“I’ll speak, I’ll speak.” Yang Duojie shrank his neck. “I’ve heard Zhao Wucheng doesn’t handle affairs himself. Who helps him manage day-to-day matters? Brother, can you get your hands on a military token?”

Back at Xiang Palace.

Tur: “What do you mean? Why would Zhaluo Wahan celebrate if peace negotiations fail?”

Xiahou Dan smiled: “Do you not understand? Do you still think the King of Yan is in the dark, unaware that you came to assassinate me?”

“We left a distraction—”

“That old fox has sat on the throne for decades. Could he be fooled by your little tricks for so long?”

Tur was speechless.

He recalled the sachet “coincidentally” left by the Queen of Qiang, and the surprisingly lax security when he was escaping.

Xiahou Dan: “Years of war have devastated the people’s livelihood, and the morale of Yan’s people is low as they continue to retreat. You didn’t notice, but Zhaluo Wahan realized that the people no longer wanted to fight. He hates Xia country, and the peace negotiations are just a temporary measure. He needs time to recover and also needs a new catalyst to stir up the people’s will to fight.”

His voice carried a faint mockery: “Isn’t it coincidental that last time this catalyst was Shanyi, and this time it’s your turn.”

These words precisely ignited the powder keg.

Tur’s entire body tensed up: “How—dare—you—mention her?”

“Why shouldn’t I dare? She tried to kill me; should I have just stood there and let her do it?”

“Bullshit!” Tur roared, his muscles bulging as he broke free from his ropes and lunged at Xiahou Dan. However, wounded as he was, he was pressed down midway by the secret guards. Pinned to the ground, he continued to struggle: “Still spouting lies! The so-called assassination attempt was all your fabrication!”

Xiahou Dan raised an eyebrow slightly: “The dagger she used for the assassination was quite exquisite, with deer and flowers carved on the handle.”

Tur’s struggling suddenly stopped.

Yu Wanyin opened her mouth in surprise.

How did Xiahou Dan know such details of palace secrets buried for years? Was it mentioned in the text? Hadn’t he not read it carefully?

But Tur’s reaction already fully confirmed that the detail was true.

Xiahou Dan: “Shanyi was just a weak young girl; she wouldn’t attempt an assassination without reason, would she? Who gave her the order? And how did they make her obey—threats, enticements, or by holding someone she cherished as leverage?”

He allowed the silence to linger for a moment before looking at the back of Tur’s head with pity: “How tragic to be a puppet without realizing it, unable to save the woman you love, and unable even to find your true enemy. You thought you were coming to assassinate me in secret? No, you were sent by the King of Yan, just like Shanyi. Your deaths in the Xia Palace are more valuable to him than if you died by his hand. When the news returns to Yan, he can shed tears and cry out for Xia to pay in blood.”

“…”

Tur laughed hoarsely.

“You say I’m a puppet?” He stared at Xiahou Dan with bloodshot eyes. “Aren’t you one yourself?”

“Of course I am,” Xiahou Dan didn’t even blink. “In my youth, I also thought that by fighting back, I could escape their control. Later, I slowly realized that every decision I made, every act of rebellion, was exactly what they wanted. I am their marionette, the knife in their hands for killing…”

He glanced at the Empress Dowager.

The Empress Dowager trembled.

Xiahou Dan withdrew his gaze: “Actually, we are very much alike. But I can’t resign myself to it. I can’t pretend to be oblivious, can’t muddle through to meet my fate, and still deceive myself by calling it having no choice—can you?”

These lines…

It was as if each word had been chewed up with blood and spat out with teeth, Yu Wanyin thought.

To Tur’s ears, they were like shocking waves.

Self-deception.

He couldn’t help but ask himself: Was I unaware?

Many years ago, when his uncle brazenly said “Her identity is the most suitable,” how did he respond?

After all these years, the sachet, the security, all those anomalies—had he not seen them, or had he deliberately ignored them? By staging this mutual destruction, he could believe he had avenged his great hatred and died with a smile—yet never daring to look back even in death.

So that’s it, he suddenly realized.

It turns out that I, the greatest warrior of Yan, have been afraid of Zhaluo Wahan all along.

Xiahou Dan suddenly changed the subject: “It’s a pity, a pity that I’m dying soon. Otherwise, I could have sent people to help you kill Zhaluo Wahan. Now, having committed the crime of regicide, I’m afraid you can’t even imagine leaving Xia alive.”

Tur: “…”

Tur: “………”

Yu Wanyin felt as if she could hear the sound of gears turning frantically in his brain.

After a while, he said resentfully: “I don’t have an antidote. The Qiang woman only gave the poison. Can you ask the royal physicians to find a way?”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Xiahou Dan: “Then you’d better pray hard for me.”

Bei Zhou, by the door, suddenly knelt, pressing his face to the ground to listen: “A large contingent is coming up the mountain, should be the Imperial Guards.”

Before everyone could breathe a sigh of relief, he quickly stood up and fired a shot outside.

“The men hiding in the forest are coming,” he said rapidly. “Let’s escape first, just hold on until the Imperial Guards arrive.”

Escape, but where to?

Yu Wanyin suddenly turned to look at the back door, making a quick decision: “Into the underground palace!”

Looking out from the back door of Xiang Palace, the entrance to the unfinished underground palace was just a hundred meters away.

Bei Zhou fired two more shots, watching the black shadows continually emerging from the forest, with reinforcements still not in sight and ammunition running low. He then commanded in a low voice: “Let’s go.”

Bei Zhou carried Xiahou Dan on his back, one secret guard carried the Empress Dowager, and another dragged Tur, bringing the few wounded out through the back door.

Pursuers were coming from all directions; it seemed that Prince Duan’s ambushers, seeing their mission about to fail, had decided to go all out, with everyone joining the chase.

Rain poured down as Yu Wanyin sprinted the hundred meters.

The tomb passage was still under construction, the entrance not fully paved with tiles, and the mud ground now turned into puddles. Each step into the water sank deep into the mire, requiring great effort to pull out again.

The fastest pursuers had already closed within shooting range, and various projectiles came flying, striking the wounded at the rear who screamed in agony, becoming human shields.

Bei Zhou, despite carrying a person, still led the way, almost floating across the water’s surface, stepping onto the stone stairs of the tomb passage and rushing down without looking back. Yu Wanyin waded through the water closely behind him. Another heart-wrenching scream came from behind—the Empress Dowager had been hit too.

On her way home from work, Yu Wanyin had often read tomb-raiding novels. She knew that to prevent grave robbers, all underground palaces had a section separated by a stone door with a locking mechanism that couldn’t be opened from the outside in a short time. But once inside, there was no way out; if the stone door was broken, they would be trapped like fish in a barrel.

The situation left them no choice. She descended the stairs three steps at a time, directing: “Main burial chamber!”

The view darkened as they finally entered the underground palace.

Bei Zhou exerted his vision, heading straight for the largest burial chamber in the darkness, turning to kick the lintel stone.

The lintel stone slowly tilted, like a macro version of dominoes, pushing the huge stone door to gradually close.

The others rushed in, squeezing through the increasingly narrow gap. The door closed with a rumble, the lintel stone returning to its groove, forming a triangle with the door and the ground.

The last ray of light disappeared, plunging the burial chamber into complete darkness.

Immediately after, the sound of battering came from outside.

Yu Wanyin held her breath and listened for a while; the thick stone door remained unmoved. She seemed to suddenly lose all her strength and sat down against the nearest wall.

In the room where one couldn’t see their hand, only the groans of the Empress Dowager could be heard.

A group of conspirators, each with their agenda, now dependent on each other for survival in darkness and a tomb.

Yu Wanyin belatedly discovered a sharp pain in her shoulder. She reached up to touch it and felt the cut made by a projectile.

She drew in a sharp breath.

Xiahou Dan: “You’re hurt?”

His voice was very close as if he was sitting right beside her. Yu Wanyin tried to reach out, found his hand, and gently held it.

Not wanting him to worry about her at this time, she replied lightly: “No, I’m not.”

Xiahou Dan’s fingers were cold as they moved from her wrist upward, finally stopping at the edge of the bloody cut.

“Tur,” he asked in a low voice, “were the projectiles of the ambushers also coated with poison?”

Tur: “?”

Tur: “Haven’t you misunderstood? I have no idea who sent the ambushers. Was it that imperial brother you mentioned?”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Could this person succeed in turning the tables and killing the King of Yan after returning?

From the corner came the voice of a secret guard: “In reply to Your Majesty, this subordinate was also lightly wounded by a projectile but didn’t feel any poison.” He thought Xiahou Dan was concerned about the Empress Dowager, and though finding it strange, still dutifully reported: “But the Empress Dowager’s injuries are rather severe and need to be bandaged soon.”

Xiahou Dan didn’t respond.

The battering sounds continued to roar, but the stone door merely trembled slightly with no sign of moving.

Yu Wanyin felt somewhat relieved and whispered in Xiahou Dan’s ear: “The stability of triangles.”

Xiahou Dan, at this crucial moment, actually laughed: “The crystallization of ancient wisdom.”

They held hands tightly, quietly listening to the sounds outside.

After a while, the battering sound suddenly weakened, followed by the sharp clash of weapons.

The Imperial Guards had finally arrived.

The newcomers had an overwhelming numerical advantage. Prince Duan’s men, trapped in the underground palace with nowhere to escape, resisted stubbornly for a moment before the sounds of fighting diminished.

Someone called out to the stone door: “Your Majesty? Empress Dowager?”

Bei Zhou took a deep breath and projected his voice: “All inside.”

The person exclaimed joyfully: “Please wait, Your Majesty, we’ll find tools to break down the door!”

In the darkness, the Empress Dowager suddenly cursed with a tearful voice, and then Bei Zhou coldly said: “Behave yourself.”

Yu Wanyin: “What happened?”

Bei Zhou: “This woman tried to attack Dan’er, but I caught her.”

Yu Wanyin was dumbfounded. Someone who could compete with Prince Duan for so many years was indeed formidable—even at this desperate point, she hadn’t forgotten her original intent.