Jing Hengbo’s hand holding the handkerchief froze in mid-air. Her eyes instantly widened.

Gong Yin’s reaction was completely beyond her expectations!

Well, she actually knew the great god had a tiny bit of fondness for her—women couldn’t be completely oblivious to such things. But she didn’t think that tiny bit of perhaps uncertain fondness could make someone like Gong Yin, whose heart was set on the world with soaring ambitions, lose control.

Someone who clearly had extreme self-control—shouldn’t he normally secretly swallow his saliva while pretending propriety, then surrender himself to his right-hand brother in the middle of the night?

Whether judging from his personality or his behavior, he should have arrogantly ignored her, swept his sleeves and left, or simply said something poisonous like “don’t dirty me”!

Yet the heavy weight on her body reminded her of certain changes. His breath, faint as snow-capped mountains and green pines, carried a lonely chill, but his breathing was burning hot, brushing her neck. She felt everything from skin to heart seemed to tense slightly from this, sensing that wetness and heat like after summer rain—low atmospheric pressure, everything lush yet restlessly stirring, all emotions dormant, waiting for the next storm’s arrival.

She finally trembled with fear.

Completely unprepared for how to respond, she craved his clear, distant fragrance yet feared his skin’s snow-like coldness. She was mesmerized by his snow-fallen bamboo temperament yet unwilling to enter the ice-sealed crystal world in his eyes.

His realm was curiosity, temptation, mystery to her—a jade pool atop heavenly mountains. She was willing to admire from afar, willing to glide past on wind, testing with fingertips those faint ripples born from her presence. She wanted to see his earthly, smoky flavor yet feared truly approaching and being frozen by that embrace of pure cold.

Tonight… perhaps he was angry. How could Gong Yin, an ancient man bound by propriety, face belly dancing—that indulgent dance even Americans once couldn’t accept?

Her breathing became slightly rapid, then slowly calmed. The hand holding the handkerchief fell, accurately grasping the cloth.

Sleep it off—good for both of them.

But he suddenly fell upon her fiercely.

One hand fell, pressing her handkerchief-holding arm. The other elbow pressed against her waist, immediately immobilizing her upper body.

Jing Hengbo’s eyes widened in shock. Only then did her mind process the great god’s earlier words.

Price? Uh? What price?

Not that, surely?

No, not sister’s virginity!

“Gong Yin, what’s wrong with you?” Feeling everything was off, she reached back to grasp Gong Yin’s hand, trying to push him away: “Poisoned? Drugged? Suddenly reborn?”

He didn’t answer, pressing down heavily. She suddenly froze, neck half-tilted and rigid—a pair of soft, slightly cool lips had suddenly fallen on her earlobe.

Slight coolness and burning heat, softness and warmth… like lightning flowing through their embracing bodies, both he and she trembled.

Jing Hengbo felt her heartbeat too urgent, as if her entire heart was floating. This moment’s sensation was unexpected—person blurry as in dreams, only feeling his lips change from cool to hot, like a thousand-year jade finally warmed. Her earlobe suddenly seemed to catch fire, a line of flame blazing all the way to her depths.

Reason told her this was improper, yet her young body had its own desires. She suddenly couldn’t summon strength, resistance in her eyes melting into rippling gaze.

But he seemed like a clumsy youth—lips touching the earlobe once, then backing away as if burned, falling again to find her black hair.

Her hair was soft and smooth, lustrous and sleek, emanating faint strange fragrance. When lips touched it, they seemed ready to slip away. He was startled by that fragrance, yet it seemed to penetrate his depths, becoming complex emotions he couldn’t spit out or swallow, stuck in his chest.

Jing Hengbo felt slightly itchy, wanting to laugh, suddenly feeling faint pity—this moment’s him was far from his usual calm self-control and strategic composure. Somewhat clumsy, somewhat awkward, like a naive, newly awakened youth.

His past twenty-plus years must have been incredibly pure, like ice-sealed heavenly waters, never stirred by worldly splendor.

She needn’t worry about her chastity being violated, but should worry whether he might suffocate her by never knowing how to kiss a woman.

His lips seemed searching and seeking, hesitating long before falling on her forehead next moment. She couldn’t help wanting to laugh again—aloof people being cute was truly irresistible. Look at him, just couldn’t find the right place to land.

His skin was soft and comfortable like cool jade, making one want to approach that coolness. Yet his lips seemed slightly trembling, stopping on her equally cool, soft, smooth forehead. Her dense eyelashes innocently brushed his face, sweeping as if to brush all life’s uncontrollable, complex emotions into heart’s corners. Or stirring dormant emotions, creating clear ripples wave by wave.

She also seemed slightly swaying, shrouded by his compelling breath, trapped in sweet soft drowsiness, tired and powerless, only wanting to sink deeper. Unable to help wanting to keep this breath longer, longer still, arms unconsciously lifting to embrace him. Suddenly discovering his arms still hung stiffly at his sides, she couldn’t help smiling inwardly, fingers lifting to lightly touch his hand back.

Ice cold to the touch!

Vaguely something seemed to shatter at her fingertips!

She suddenly widened her eyes!

This instant he also suddenly stopped. She felt his body’s uncontrollable slight trembling, then his lips quickly moved downward, seemingly finally understanding to find her lips. But before he reached his target, before she decided how to respond, he suddenly stiffened, half-rising.

“Wa.”

A mouthful of heat sprayed on her neck. Jing Hengbo saw in the dim lamplight that heavy bright red!

Flying and splattering like blood cherry blossoms, stabbing her eyes.

After spitting that mouthful of blood, Gong Yin’s body immediately went limp, collapsing aside. Jing Hengbo sat up in alarm, seeing fine ice crystals scattered everywhere.

Exactly what she’d touched on his hand earlier—appearing from his fingertips, rapidly spreading, covering half his arm, now shattered on the ground!

In the warm air, ice crystals quickly melted, staining the ground’s blood, making the peony carpet even more vivid.

Jing Hengbo’s mind went blank, never imagining such a situation. What was wrong with Gong Yin?

After staring blankly for a while, she jumped up urgently to help Gong Yin. The handkerchief fell to the ground, stained with blood and useless—she forgot about it.

Gong Yin wasn’t unconscious, just extremely pale, white as mountain peak snow, even his lips showing no trace of blood. He avoided Jing Hengbo’s supporting hand, sitting up cross-legged himself. Before closing his eyes, he pointed outward.

This meant for her to quickly get lost.

At this point, even if asked to leave, Jing Hengbo wouldn’t go. Not even glancing at the great god’s gesture, she first ran to the door, confirmed no one was around, then quickly closed the slightly open door.

Then seeing Gong Yin’s complexion hadn’t improved, she wondered about finding medicine. The King of Tiannan had a rest room in the inner chamber, but could she go now? She and Yélu Qi were busy with their affair. Besides, she and Yélu Qi bore no goodwill toward Gong Yin—knowing he had problems, would they not strike?

Before thinking clearly, turning around, she briefly gasped “ah” in surprise, discovering that somehow all of Gong Yin’s exposed skin was covered with faint ice crystals, becoming an ice person in an instant.

Ice-snow crystal clear—this moment he was beautiful to the point of grimness.

What was this formation? Was it an attack or healing?

Jing Hengbo crouched before Ice Person Yin, carefully studying. Watching the ice gradually spread over all his skin, stopping when it grew thick enough to freeze his entire person, then faint mist rose as the ice began melting at extremely slow speed.

Jing Hengbo understood somewhat—Gong Yin was healing. When the ice melted, he’d regain mobility.

What kind of technique was Prajna Snow anyway? How so strange?

Calculating from the melting speed, at least an hour before Gong Yin recovered.

How to pass this hour?

Jing Hengbo beat her chest—self-inflicted suffering couldn’t be helped!

…

In the inner room, the King of Tiannan’s arms wrapped snake-like, tightly coiling around Yélu Qi.

Somehow both their clothes were half-undone, scattered garments hanging below the soft couch.

“Yélu… my good man…” The King of Tiannan recalled Jing Hengbo’s angles when looking at people, charmingly clinging to his shoulder, breath like orchids brushing his ear: “…tonight… shall we be together tonight…”

“Good…” Yélu Qi smiled down at her, embracing her waist and laying her down: “…let me bathe first…”

“No need…” The King of Tiannan quickly reached to embrace him as he tried to rise, bit by bit pulling him onto the couch: “Don’t spoil the mood, I don’t mind… now… let’s do it now…”

Her fingers intentionally made several light turns, silently loosening Yélu Qi’s front buttons.

The King of Tiannan breathed more rapidly, foot arched, lightly rubbing his leg bend. Her arms like vines tightly coiled around him.

Her hand reached under the bedding, the “mouth cover” ready in her palm. Just facing Yélu Qi directly, she couldn’t attach it to him. She was unwilling to stick it on the pillow, fearing reduced effectiveness.

“Also good…” Yélu Qi laughed softly, gently embracing her, body slowly leaning down.

The King of Tiannan was overjoyed.

Today he was so cooperative—seemed truly moved. Perhaps without the mouth cover’s effect, it would naturally succeed.

She pursed red lips like delicate flowers, eagerly greeting him.

Their lips about to touch.

Yélu Qi suddenly paused, then raised his head: “Why is it suddenly cold?”

The King of Tiannan was currently burning hot all over, hearing this as evasion. Her gaze slightly chilled: “This place is spring-like year-round. Where’s the cold?”

But Yélu Qi’s expression was very serious, looking up at the layers of curtains separating them from outside, suddenly saying: “There’s mist.”

The King of Tiannan said impatiently: “Just night fog! Let’s hurry and sleep!” She hooked her leg to pull Yélu Qi toward her.

Yélu Qi braced his arms, looking down at her, smiling: “Aren’t I being considerate? You withdrew all guards and mechanisms—naturally your safety is my concern. Look at this night fog with frost air—clearly something’s wrong.”

Hearing his serious tone, the King of Tiannan reluctantly half-turned to look for a long time before seeing faint white mist seeping through deep red curtain gaps, vaguely carrying cold air.

“Maybe wind picked up outside…” she said lazily, reaching to embrace his neck.

“Doesn’t seem like it… I should check, be right back.” Yélu Qi lowered his head, lightly touching her neck, laughing softly: “Don’t rush, my beauty, wait for me…”

He gently but firmly pulled away the King of Tiannan’s hands, rising from the couch. The King of Tiannan reluctantly sat up, watching his determined retreating figure, hatefully punching the soft couch.

But Yélu Qi’s attention was entirely on that thread of frost air. Lifting the curtains to look outside, his eyes suddenly showed amusement.

Really… unexpected…

“Qi…” Behind him the King of Tiannan called softly: “Nothing wrong, come back quickly…”

“Oh, seems something’s off.” He turned back, smiling gently at her: “I’ll check—can’t let assassins disturb you.”

The King of Tiannan’s gaze fell on his collar—somehow the buttons she’d undone were all fastened again!

The King of Tiannan wanted to punch his chest again, or grab and tear off all those buttons.

Let him button up! Let him pretend! Let him deceive!

Yélu Qi stepped lightly, heading for the outer room.

…

Jing Hengbo constantly listened to movements inside, somehow feeling uneasy.

From her understanding of Yélu Qi, even with Feifei’s urine-version handkerchief, the King of Tiannan’s intelligence might not handle him.

But she dared not move Gong Yin, fearing to alert outside guards, nor try notifying Gong Yin’s guards—she didn’t know his method anyway.

Vaguely hearing scattered sounds, seemingly low voices from inside.

Jing Hengbo looked around, grabbing an enamel vase, tiptoeing to the inner door.

Drunken Rainbow Pavilion’s inner and outer rooms had no partition—just layers of heavy curtains, completely silent passage.

Jing Hengbo gripped the vase ready to strike, simultaneously aiming at potted plants on nearby stands.

The room was dim and oppressive, objects shrouded in murky shadows, sounds muffled by thick curtains, seeming to echo from distant places. Only faint frost breath emanating from Gong Yin wafted through halls and chambers.

The curtains suddenly moved.

A finger emerged.

Jing Hengbo held her breath, raising the vase—

…

The King of Tiannan stared at Yélu Qi’s retreating figure.

Rejection and deception’s resentment blazed like fire, instantly igniting all reason.

She silently rolled off the couch, barefoot approaching Yélu Qi from behind, hand tightly clutching that treated “mouth cover!”

Yélu Qi lifted the curtains.

“Ah, who are you!” The King of Tiannan suddenly shrieked piercingly.

Yélu Qi instinctively turned back, first glance confirming no situation behind him. Knowing trouble, his eyes caught the King of Tiannan lunging with something white in her palm!

He retreated urgently!

The curtains flew up straight like opening doors as his body flashed lightning-fast toward the outer room.

“Bang.”

The moment his body passed through curtains, a crisp sound—a heavy vase struck fast and accurately toward his head.

Jing Hengbo struck!

Yélu Qi had the King of Tiannan wildly pursuing with sanitary pad behind, Jing Hengbo ambushing with raised vase beside. In the rush, he only managed to slightly tilt his head.

The vase shattered on his left shoulder with a crack.

Even with steel bones, this moment unavoidably hurt slightly. His movement slightly paused, and the King of Tiannan pounced, leaping to pin him down, the sanitary pad in her hand slapping hard on his mouth!

…

Yélu Qi’s body paused, retreat stopping as he fell with a bang.

Another bang as the King of Tiannan couldn’t stop her momentum, tumbling onto him.

Then another “bang” as a potted plant fell from its stand, hitting the King of Tiannan’s back and knocking her unconscious with rolled-back eyes.

Beside scattered fragments, Jing Hengbo clapped her hands and emerged, silently cheering “Yeah!”

…

Yélu Qi woke quickly.

Though injured and repeatedly ambushed, good foundation was good foundation. Neither Feifei’s urine nor vases could keep him unconscious long.

Without injuries, neither Feifei’s urine-version mouth cover nor vases would be more than fingertip smoke to him.

Opening his eyes, he first saw the tied-up King of Tiannan, then Jing Hengbo sitting cross-legged opposite.

She still wore the earlier dancing costume—hair cascading with seductive flowers, seven-colored crystal beads hanging on snow-white abdomen and slender waist, fire-red flowing skirt spreading in full circles around her, similarly snow-white feet with flashing golden bells. Seductive dress yet dignified posture, like richly colored, graceful flying immortals from ancient murals.

Yélu Qi’s gaze was momentarily intoxicated, but discovering his situation, the just-spreading romantic thoughts immediately dissipated.

His mouth was sealed with something white—he remembered the King of Tiannan’s final lunge sticking it there. Hands bound behind his back with silk rope mixed with tendons that would cut deeper with struggle. That was manageable, but more importantly, a gleaming small knife was inserted in his shoulder.

He glanced sideways at his shoulder, finally showing a helpless smile.

The insertion was truly skillful—precisely at his true energy circulation hub, equivalent to adding strong restraint. His true energy would be blocked here, losing resistance capability.

She couldn’t possibly know this—Gong Yin taught her, right?

The woman opposite rested her chin on her hand, smiling heartlessly. Long curly hair and curled long lashes trembled slightly, eye corners slightly raised, dark pupils lively as water, brilliant and wild—a poppy swaying atop palace peaks.

Yélu Qi’s gaze flashed with unnoticed confusion.

Such a woman…

Seeming careless yet intentional, appearing confused yet shrewd, kind yet cruel, decisive yet looking most easily fooled.

When she picked and chose where to stab him, she probably didn’t hesitate. Seeing her current happy smile, probably felt no remorse.

Beauty never truly confused her—toward enemies, she was always ruthless.

He suddenly wanted to sigh long for himself, and even more for Gong Yin.

Jing Hengbo smiled at him, confirming from his expression that she’d guessed correctly.

Her mind suddenly flashed with countless dismembered rabbits, roe deer, badgers, recalling Gong Yin’s words in that dense forest.

“Insert from three parts below the shoulder blade… right, not only animals can be handled this way—certain people too.”

The great god never spoke nonsense. He’d said this twice, so seeing Yélu Qi, she wondered if this shoulder blade weak point referred to him.

Countless practice sessions on rabbits, roe deer, badgers in the mountains—one strike perfectly placed.

Her mind drifted to Gong Yin’s hands when demonstrating—slender, steady, shining with forest’s scattered sunlight.

Why ice crystals?

Why such a condition?

…

Yélu Qi watched her slightly vacant eyes, knowing she’d zoned out again, couldn’t help sighing.

“What do you plan? Staring at each other like this?”

His voice came through the sanitary pad, unclear. The thing lacked adhesive—after two sentences, most fell off. Yélu Qi felt dizzy, shook his head, and another piece dropped.

Jing Hengbo turned her gaze back, staring at the sanitary pad on his mouth. That big white piece on Yélu Qi’s mouth was truly pleasing to the eye—she’d never imagined changing a sanitary pad’s position could be so enchanting.

Her smile was too ambiguous, making Yélu Qi suspiciously stare at that large piece: “What is this thing?”

Jing Hengbo had no intention of making things easy for him.

“Oh,” she said casually, “this is a special feminine hygiene product. Used during inconvenient times. Yes, exactly what you’re thinking. I heard this thing can ward off evil and bring men bad luck. I think it’s naturally designed for you—see, snug, safe, 360-degree 24-hour leak-proof protection. Thumbs up.”

Yélu Qi: “…”

Next moment he exhaled forcefully, the thing floating to the ground. Yélu Qi’s face went from blue to white to blue again. His only consolation was that this thing looked snow-white and clean, apparently unused.

Next moment Jing Hengbo cruelly shattered his self-comfort.

“Oh, forgot to mention,” she smiled sweetly, “though this thing’s unused, I had my pet urinate on it.”

Yélu Qi decided if he ever got the chance, he’d definitely make her dance wearing his underwear!

Jing Hengbo appreciated his rapidly changing then rapidly calming expression, silently praising that state preceptor-level composure was indeed good. She’d wanted to see if purple-faced Yélu Qi looked attractive.

“I have many more of these. If you don’t want to be stuck with them one by one, spending your life so unlucky that you get hit by cars leaving home and struck by stones walking…” Jing Hengbo smiled sweetly, pointing at him, “let’s make a deal.”

“Hmm?” Yélu Qi circulated energy, trying to forget that white strip on the ground.

“I won’t take your life—you escort me and Gong Yin out of the palace,” she said.

“After escorting you out? Gong Yin’s guards chase and kill me?”

“That’s your business. Should I protect you too? Don’t tell me you lack even this self-preservation ability,” she didn’t buy it. “Not killing you now gives you a chance.”

“My shoulder hurts badly—afraid I can’t walk,” Yélu Qi smiled at her, luminous in the night. “You support me, I’ll escort you out.”

“I’d better wake the King of Tiannan,” Jing Hengbo said thoughtfully. “Though she hit her head, she should still have strength to deal with you, right?”

“Would you bear to?” Yélu Qi smiled enigmatically. “My person was originally intended for you alone, my Majesty.”

“Don’t accept second-hand goods.” Jing Hengbo smiled more alluringly than him.

“Twenty-plus years pure as jade—you could verify if you don’t believe.” Yélu Qi blinked.

Jing Hengbo pointed at his chest: “Others have leaned on this.”

Pointed at his face: “Others have touched this.”

Her finger traced up and down, seemingly crossing out his entire person: “Others have touched you from head to toe.”

Fingertip flicked—snap.

“Three thousand li of ocean couldn’t wash the cosmetic scent off you.” Summary.

Yélu Qi raised his eyebrows, not angry, eyes slanting toward Gong Yin in semi-frozen state.

“Carrying others’ fragrance is cleaner than carrying others’ bodies, right?”

“Who?” Jing Hengbo was rarely sensitive.

Yélu Qi smiled without speaking, his glances toward Gong Yin being the silent answer.

“With whom?” Jing Hengbo’s gossip heart stirred.

“What do you think?” Yélu Qi smiled. “State preceptors typically marry female monarchs.”

This was the first time Jing Hengbo heard this, slightly stunned, unable to help glancing at Gong Yin.

“In Dahuang, everyone avoids discussing old matters. Perhaps only Gong Yin can give you this answer. Of course, what answer he gives depends on his willingness. I wish you clarity of mind, never bewitched by others.”

Jing Hengbo raised her eyes, steadily looking at him. Yélu Qi felt uncomfortable under her penetrating yet mysterious gaze, coughed lightly, smiled: “What?”

“I’m being bewitched right now, fortunately my mind stays clear.” Jing Hengbo’s slender finger pointed at him. “Yélu Qi, don’t waste effort. To sow discord, you must pick the right time.”

“Oh? Such confidence in him?”

“I have confidence in my intuition, my judgment of men’s subtle reactions.” Jing Hengbo smiled slyly. “What are secrets? Things only parties involved know, then everyone else guesses and spreads until completely distorted. Idle gossip—listen and forget. Taking it seriously isn’t that seeking abuse? Besides… what’s it to me?”

Jing Hengbo, back to Gong Yin, didn’t notice that behind her, Gong Yin—whose facial ice crystals had completely melted—suddenly opened his eyes to look at her.

One glance cold as frozen ice, then he slowly closed his eyes.

Jing Hengbo didn’t see this glance but suddenly noticed Yélu Qi across from her smiling very smugly and happily.

Generally when foxes smiled like this, nothing good happened. She didn’t want to continue sparring with the fox, standing up and casually grabbing a prepared cloak to wear. She pulled out the small knife, tapping Yélu Qi’s back with the blade: “Let’s go.”

As long as the stab wound hadn’t healed, it would continue blocking Yélu Qi. She kept this knife for self-defense.

Yélu Qi calmly stood, and Jing Hengbo moved Gong Yin onto his back, smiling: “Carry your old lover well—don’t drop him.”

Then she kicked the King of Tiannan awake.

“Your Majesty,” she chattered in the ear of the King of Tiannan, who had just awakened from unconsciousness, still dazed and unclear about the situation: “You almost died just now! Fortunately I risked my life to save you! Now that white-clothed man is injured, and Yélu Qi wants to take him out for treatment. I advise you—quickly send these plague gods away and stop making trouble for yourself. You can’t handle these people, understand?”

“I…” The King of Tiannan was dizzy and confused.

“Just do as I say.” Jing Hengbo helped her up with one hand, the small knife in her other hand pressing hard against the King of Tiannan’s waist.

The King of Tiannan’s whole body trembled as she became somewhat alert, looking at her in terror.

Jing Hengbo showed her a smile that could topple nations.

Such a smile was brilliant yet hard. The King of Tiannan swallowed her saliva, helplessly realizing that with someone like Jing Hengbo who seemed easy to negotiate with, there was actually no room for negotiation.

She could only slowly move outside. Though Yélu Qi’s energy flow was blocked, his movement wasn’t hindered. He carried Gong Yin on his back with a half-smile, following along. Jing Hengbo was most wary of him—one hand holding the King of Tiannan hostage while scanning him from the corner of her eye.

After walking a few steps, Yélu Qi didn’t look back but suddenly said: “What’s behind me?”

“So you noticed.” Jing Hengbo laughed charmingly like flowers: “Just a hairpin, slightly sharp, might kill someone, might not—or you could try?”

The King of Tiannan was horrified to see a golden hairpin somehow floating behind Yélu Qi, its gleaming sharp tip aimed at his back.

But Jing Hengbo felt tired—her telekinetic object control couldn’t be maintained long, just as teleporting with people couldn’t go too far. Once outside, she needed to hold the King of Tiannan hostage, watch Yélu Qi, and monitor the King of Tiannan’s guards’ movements—how could she manage everything at once?

Sure enough, as soon as the group appeared outside the pavilion, dark shadows immediately appeared on both sides of the bridge, blocking it.

“I say, why must you keep holding me?” Yélu Qi said leisurely: “Retreating all this way, the King’s guards could strike anytime—can you handle it all?”

“Without holding you, you’d be the biggest variable.” Jing Hengbo’s hairpin lightly poked Yélu Qi: “Go downward.”

Downward was the water-side stairs where small boats used by palace maids to transport dishes were moored.

A flash of surprise and appreciation crossed Yélu Qi’s eyes.

He hadn’t expected her to be so clever.

The group went down the bridge and boarded a boat. Jing Hengbo made Yélu Qi sit at the bow, placed the King of Tiannan bound at the stern, while she and Gong Yin sat in the middle with the golden hairpin floating behind Yélu Qi.

This was palace living water—following the current could lead outside the palace. The river was quite wide, making archery from both banks unlikely. The King of Tiannan at the stern was a living shield, preventing anyone from shooting arrows from the bridge to assassinate her and Gong Yin.

Yélu Qi at the bow was naturally also a human shield. When approaching the palace gates where there would surely be checkpoint guards, if anyone tried to stop them, let Master Yélu block for them.

“Trouble Master Yélu to row the boat,” she handed him the paddle with a sweet smile: “When we first met, you rowed for me—let’s see if you’re still skilled?”

“If you permit, I’d willingly row for you my whole life.” He accepted without objection, his tone deeply affectionate.

Jing Hengbo just laughed dismissively, waving her hand like dispersing confusing mist to scatter his words.

Yélu Qi glanced at her and smiled, sitting at the bow. His long robe spread leisurely, gently billowing in the night wind.

The water splashed softly, making the boat seem more stable and the night quieter. The King of Tiannan’s guards on shore nervously followed along, dark shadows sweeping past like wind.

Listening to the steady breathing of the woman behind him, Yélu Qi’s heart rippled like water with many emotions.

In the past… he had underestimated her.

Courage, wisdom, calmness, fearlessness, plus the meticulousness to find opportunities in any environment and the natural instinct to plan steadily in any situation.

These qualities of the most excellent talent had been hidden by her laziness and seductiveness. She was so lazy that as long as she had someone to rely on, she absolutely wouldn’t think for herself.

But once left to depend on herself, she was strong enough to manipulate everyone single-handedly.

Some women appeared to be vases at first glance, with no one knowing their deeply hidden crystal hearts.

Never having truly taken her seriously before, at this moment he listened to her breathing, thinking of her brilliant face, his heart flowing like water—calm on the surface yet with its own rippling waves.

But Jing Hengbo was very busy now, too occupied to notice his subtle emotions. She quietly withdrew the golden hairpin, secretly wiping sweat and peeling an ice crystal from Gong Yin’s body to place behind Yélu Qi.

She couldn’t maintain the hairpin’s floating state any longer. Since Yélu Qi was so perceptive, surely the ice block’s cold air would also make him sense killing intent?

Yélu Qi seemed completely unaware, his back calm. Jing Hengbo sighed in relief, glancing at Gong Yin beside her. The ice crystals on his body had melted to his knees. In the moonlight his face was coldly pale, unlike earthly breath.

She suddenly wanted to warm him with her palms.

Before raising her hand, she heard Yélu Qi say leisurely: “Rowing and singing, moonlit flower-bright night, with a beauty beside me and heroes seeing me off—seems like a good time for heart-to-heart talks and storytelling.”

Jing Hengbo giggled: “Good idea. How about telling the untold story between you and Gong Yin?”

“Or the untold story between Gong Yin and the former Female Empress?” Yélu Qi’s voice was laughingly low, seemingly infinitely seductive: “Want to hear it?”

“No.” Jing Hengbo snorted resentfully, not believing gossip from Yélu Qi’s mouth had any credibility. But her ears involuntarily perked up.

Yélu Qi acted as if he hadn’t heard her words, fingers lightly skimming the flowing water as he began.

“Dahuang’s political structure has always been strange. Coincidentally, each generation’s Left and Right State Preceptors must have one from noble birth and one from common origins. Legend says if any generation shows change, it will herald massive shifts in Dahuang’s political landscape.”

Jing Hengbo interrupted: “Anyway this generation hasn’t changed—you’re from noble birth, Gong Yin from common origins.”

“Hehe, no change…” Yélu Qi laughed somewhat strangely: “Well, let’s say he’s from common origins. There was a year during the previous Female Empress’s reign when a young man rose like a meteor in Dahuang’s court, gaining the former Right State Preceptor’s trust. In just three years, he eliminated dissidents for the former State Preceptor, stabilized tribes, strengthened wings, networked influences—achieving great merit.”

Jing Hengbo listened quietly, gently scooping up a floating petal covered with fine ice crystals that looked like an artificial flower.

“The former State Preceptor liked this young man very much, repeatedly saying he’d marry his daughter to him. The former State Preceptor’s daughter was still too young then—they said in a few more years the good deed would be accomplished.”

“But good days never came. A year later, the former State Preceptor was assassinated during an inspection tour, his entire household slaughtered, even that little girl couldn’t escape.”

Yélu Qi’s tone was deep and somber. Jing Hengbo stared at the black river surface and distant palace’s grim starlight, imagining that night years ago when assassins danced in darkness with sword tips dripping thick blood, and couldn’t help shivering.

“That young man who owed the former State Preceptor great kindness naturally swore to avenge his benefactor. But the assassins struck cleanly without leaving clues. Meanwhile, the former State Preceptor’s forces urgently needed a new leader. This leader could only be the former future son-in-law. After all, he’d been handling these matters for years and was already trusted by everyone—his inheriting the former State Preceptor’s foundation was natural.”

“So in four years—just four years—he became the youngest State Preceptor in Dahuang history. After taking office, he used iron-fisted methods and decisive actions, quickly suppressing Dahuang’s court with tough measures and gradually controlling political power.”

“Shortly after he took power, news spread that the former State Preceptor’s daughter hadn’t died but was lost in the wilderness. Upon hearing this, he sent people to search extensively. Whether they found anything, only he knew. Publicly, they said they found nothing.”

“Another year later, the former Female Empress died. The State Preceptor determined the reincarnated Female Empress. That year I’d just become State Preceptor with less palace influence than him. That night in the Star Tower, the Left and Right State Preceptors cast divinations—my divination was destroyed by heavenly wind just before completion. The divination results followed the Right State Preceptor’s. I fell and was injured coming down the tower that night, so he personally went to welcome the reincarnated Female Empress.”

He seemed to chuckle softly as Jing Hengbo lowered her eyes without speaking.

“He brought back the Female Empress—the former Mingcheng Female Empress. From the first day back, some ministers felt something was wrong.”

“What was wrong?” Jing Hengbo couldn’t help asking.

“The Female Empress seemed somewhat familiar.”

“You’re not saying she was the former State Preceptor’s daughter?” Jing Hengbo sneered: “The problem is, if she was the former State Preceptor’s daughter, naturally many people had seen her. It wasn’t that long ago—they should have recognized her immediately, not just felt she looked familiar.”

“Exactly…” Yélu Qi nodded, repeatedly brushing his hand gently along the boat’s edge: “That was the problem. Besides, only a few people felt this way, so everyone kept their doubts to themselves. Soon after, people discovered a second question.”

This time Jing Hengbo didn’t ask—he’d tell her anyway.

Sure enough, Yélu Qi continued: “People discovered the State Preceptor and Female Empress seemed to have a poor relationship. They always avoided meeting, and reportedly when they did meet rarely, some incident would occur. But the State Preceptor didn’t treat the Female Empress badly because of this. On the contrary, he was relatively lenient with her constraints. The Mingcheng Female Empress had more freedom and relatively greater power than any previous Female Empress.”

“This strange dynamic between them aroused suspicion, but no one could find answers. However, everyone agreed that regardless of the State Preceptor’s cold attitude toward the Female Empress, he did give her great comfort. Some who followed old traditions began proposing the Female Empress marry the State Preceptor.”

Jing Hengbo propped her chin, glancing at Gong Yin—seems like it didn’t work out?

“Tell me,” Yélu Qi suddenly asked her: “Did he agree or not?”

Jing Hengbo said lazily: “What’s it to me?”

“Whether he agreed or not aside, there’s another matter that must be mentioned,” Yélu Qi smiled with seeming malice: “This matter relates to our friend at the boat’s stern covered in ice.”

Jing Hengbo narrowed her eyes—she did care about this, needing to know the cause to prescribe the right treatment, otherwise how would she know when to break the ice if he accidentally froze solid?

Listening to this story while seemingly unconcerned, she’d actually been thinking throughout, not noticing what lay ahead.

“Soon after hearing the marriage news, one day the Female Empress held a flower banquet, inviting the State Preceptor. He originally didn’t want to go, but after the Female Empress sent him a letter, he went. Unexpectedly, once he arrived, the Female Empress did something very cruel to him…”

“What?” Jing Hengbo’s heart tightened as she involuntarily leaned forward.

“Something that would make you unable to be happy for the rest of your life!” Yélu Qi suddenly laughed heartily, leaping up and diving into the water with a splash!

“Damn scoundrel!” Jing Hengbo hadn’t expected him to dare jump into water despite his serious injuries. Shocked, she stood to grab him but suddenly saw the iron gate ahead!

The final palace water gate used for defense! It had already been lowered!

Jing Hengbo saw the iron gate’s deep blackness, with weapon cold light flashing up, down, left and right—Tiannan Palace guards were ready for battle.

Jing Hengbo immediately grabbed for the King of Tiannan—with this formation she was prepared. Go ahead and shoot!

But the boat suddenly shook—clearly without a rower, it actually sped up, shooting forward like an arrow. Before Jing Hengbo could push out the King of Tiannan as a shield, before the guards above could see clearly who was on the boat, it was already flying straight toward the iron gate!

In a flash, Jing Hengbo couldn’t curse Yélu Qi—a thought flashed through her mind knowing he must have done something!

The sharp bow was about to crash into the heavy iron gate!

Three zhang, two zhang, one zhang…

Wind whipped up Jing Hengbo’s long hair, messily covering her face.

Soldiers on the iron gate had lowered their weapons—everyone knew no further action was needed. From the boat’s momentum, it would soon smash to pieces against the iron gate.

Jing Hengbo could have teleported away.

But at this moment she didn’t think of it at all.

The moment the boat was about to hit the iron gate, she suddenly turned and threw herself toward the stern, throwing herself onto Gong Yin and embracing him tightly.

Just then, Gong Yin suddenly opened his eyes and looked up!

“Pop.”

Seemingly with sound yet soundless.

Two lips met, pressed tightly together.

In an instant Jing Hengbo’s eyes widened, seeing her own shocked gaze reflected in Gong Yin’s equally suddenly widened eyes.

Eyes met, reflecting each other.

And the mingling fragrance of lips—warm softness meeting slight coolness, rich aroma penetrating clear freshness.

One moment felt like a thousand years.

“Bang.” A tremendous shock—Jing Hengbo felt great force hammer her back as her internal organs seemed to churn.

The boat had hit the iron gate!

The huge impact force made her body jolt upward, but she was tightly embraced by Gong Yin’s arms beneath her. Then with a turn, before falling into water, he leaped into mid-air.

His scattered white garments danced in the air like falling petals. Before landing, cold light flashed in his hand as he thrust a sword straight into the river’s heart!

Jing Hengbo clearly saw a horizontal line flash and vanish underwater. Moments later, large masses of red liquid rose up, staining part of the river surface red.

She was slightly startled.

Yélu Qi was struck by the sword?

Dead?

This cunning, intelligent, deep-scheming Dahuang talent who always had new changes—really dead just like that?

But Gong Yin’s sword strike was decisive and swift, completely unexpected, chosen when the person underwater moved slowest—it seemed impossible for him to escape.

In mid-air, Gong Yin’s billowing garments were like scattered pear blossom snow, fine ice crystals falling like rain, forming sharp icicles shooting straight into the river water.

Ice shards filled the sky like cold moons—he seemed a celestial being from the primordial ice age.

Guards on the palace walls and iron gate looked up blankly, momentarily forgetting to act.

But Gong Yin’s reactions were never slow. He grabbed the unconscious King of Tiannan and casually flung her.

With a whoosh, the hundred-some-pound person was thrown through the air by him, water splashing, thrown onto the wall.

“Your Majesty!” The guards finally recognized this unlucky person, hurriedly dropping weapons to catch her.

In the chaos, a white shadow flashed—Gong Yin had already calmly carried Jing Hengbo over the palace walls, his figure seeming to chase a cold moon and disappearing at the sky’s other end.

Leaving only the chaotic palace city, unconscious king, scattered debris, and a pool of quietly reddening river water.

…

The scenery outside the carriage gradually changed from the pale yellow Cloud Thunder Plateau to continuous vast forests with emerald green, broad leaves gleaming like oil.

Jing Hengbo lifted the curtain, craning her neck to look at the outside scenery, her face showing some anticipation.

They’d been away from Xi E for some time. After escaping that night, Gong Yin immediately prepared for departure, seemingly uninterested in pursuing whether Yélu Qi lived or died. The subsequent journey was very peaceful, safely crossing the Jiehu grasslands and Cloud Thunder Plateau. Now they could be considered approaching Dahuang territory.

The road was hidden among tall grass, not wide, barely passable for carriages. Deep in the forest seemed to be large patches of black soil, remotely gleaming with oily light. Guards said those were swamps occupying over thirty percent of Dahuang Marsh’s area. Of this thirty percent of swampland, most was dangerous and useless, only taking up space. Only six percent of swamps had special products or uses—each special swamp would create a powerful vassal state or tribe.

Because swamps occupied too much land with too little arable area, Dahuang Marsh’s agricultural development was poor. For years they’d relied on rich gem and gold production to secretly buy grain from the outside world, suffering many losses.

Hearing this explanation for the first time, Jing Hengbo couldn’t help blurting out: “Damn, if you could utilize the remaining twenty-four percent of swamps, wouldn’t you have another territory and much more production? Many poor people would have enough food, and overall national strength would improve?”

“Exactly.” The guards replied: “Dahuang’s isolation is also because of too many swamps—grain too expensive, people’s livelihood difficult to manage. We can’t attack others nor respond to others’ attacks. Swamps protect us but also limit us.”

A guard pointed to distant people foraging by the swamp edge in ragged clothes: “Seeing them reminds me of before entering the palace—my mother and sister were like that, spending half the year looking for food, going hungry. During famine and disaster years, two tribes would fight to the death over a small plot. Landlords could kill an entire village.”

“Really that bad?” Jing Hengbo was very surprised: “Swamps can grow things too—they can have production.”

“How can swamps grow anything?” The guards disagreed: “Your Majesty, that sounds like nobles’ wishful thinking. Common people tried growing many things in swamps but never succeeded, ruining much precious grain. Later everyone knew swamps were useless and stopped trying.”

“If someone found ways to increase swamp production, wouldn’t they be your great benefactor?” Jing Hengbo joked.

“Of course!” The guards answered firmly, full of longing: “That person would become the life-saving benefactor of all Dahuang people! A god to all Dahuang people! They’d become someone all Dahuang people would forever gratefully worship because they’d let people stop going hungry! Immeasurable merit!”

In common people’s eyes, territorial expansion and national strength were less important than filling empty stomachs.

Jing Hengbo was stirred by his tone, but then the guard dejectedly lowered his head: “How is it possible? So many experts tried without success… don’t think too much…”

But Jing Hengbo was holding her head desperately thinking—she remembered seeing swamp cultivation and utilization methods somewhere. Where? Where?

After thinking long without results, Jing Hengbo could only regretfully temporarily abandon the opportunity to become Dahuang’s god.

After traveling such roads for two days, Jing Hengbo belatedly remembered something—where were the legendary swamps everywhere in Dahuang? Where were the legendary mysterious gates of Dahuang? Where were those countless frozen soldier sculptures from various countries? Why hadn’t she seen any along the way?

She looked back at the towering mountains on both sides and suddenly understood.

No wonder Dahuang people weren’t unfamiliar with continental countries while Dahuang remained extremely mysterious to other nations. There were secret passages to various countries within Dahuang territory, hidden between mountains and swamps, undiscovered by other nations for years.

A finger tapped on the raised carriage window—finger snow-white like jade carving.

She stared dreamily, thinking this finger looked really nice.

The finger waved before her, magically producing an ornate large box. Gong Yin’s voice came coldly from above: “Please pay attention to this box, not my hand.”

Jing Hengbo: “What?”

The box landed on her lap, so heavy she squealed in protest.

“Put on these clothes. Starting today, you might have to continuously receive representatives from the Six Nations and Eight Tribes. Mind your bearing—don’t embarrass me.” The great god replied coldly and indifferently.

Jing Hengbo sighed—since that damned night, the state between her and Gong Yin had returned to square one overnight. Gong Yin seemed to suddenly have amnesia, forgetting those previous vague glances and ambiguous stirrings, returning to being himself—stern, distant, and sharp-tongued.

The wind where he walked carried wordless rejection, though whether rejecting Jing Hengbo or his own unspeakable helplessness was unclear.

Only then did Jing Hengbo notice Gong Yin’s clothes had also changed today. Though still white, the material was more exquisite with a row of silver pearl buttons tightly fastened at the cuffs. Each pearl was surrounded by extremely beautiful embroidered curling grass and auspicious beast patterns that glowed with auspicious energy in sunlight.

A snow-white silver-trimmed cloak fell from his shoulders. From shoulder to wrist were silver-thread embroidered dragon-like flying beasts that appeared and disappeared with the light, like dragons hidden in deep abysses awaiting their time to rise.

His black hair was held by a warm, cloud-patterned white jade hairpin, the jade colored like untrodden snow atop high mountains, while his hair flowed like water with dark luster.

Looking at him in sunlight from the carriage’s dark corner was like seeing a crystal statue standing under blue sky—pure, self-possessed, inviolable.

Jing Hengbo drooled, wanting very much to violate.

…

The clothes in the box took all her strength to pull out—indeed encrusted with gems and using several pounds of gold thread for the gorgeous ceremonial dress.

Jing Hengbo loved gems but absolutely hated carrying gems everywhere. Moreover, this ceremonial dress had no style—straight from head to toe without showing any body curves. She most hated clothes that couldn’t display her beautiful figure!

Wearing the airtight ceremonial dress, sitting properly in the carriage waiting for some random wild people to welcome her, Jing Hengbo felt particularly foolish.

Her only entertainment was watching Great God Gong’s gorgeous back through the window.

Really beautiful.

Jing Hengbo wiped drool from her lips for the eighteenth time.

Unfortunately, Gong Yin refused to turn around, spine straight, gaze only forward.

Jing Hengbo was very resentful—this fellow was too stubborn. So what if he took a little advantage from her? Why act like he was the one taken advantage of? Did she need to pay emotional damages?

Jing Hengbo sulked in her seat, grabbing the curtain tassels to slowly pluck.

Feifei ate a meat sandwich nearby, occasionally looking up at her with eyes writing “serves you right!”

Distant horn sounds suddenly came—deep and long, one fast followed by three slow beats, with vague lion and tiger roars.

Gong Yin’s horse stopped, seemingly carefully identifying the horn sounds.

A scouting guard galloped over, shouting from far away:

“Report to State Preceptor: Six Nations Eight Tribes envoys welcome Your Majesty from a hundred li away!”