How had she suddenly fallen asleep?

To say she was completely asleep wasn’t quite right—during that time, she seemed to hear vague sounds. It was precisely these sounds that made her consciousness struggle, as if trying to break free, yet not immediately succeeding. However, it was exactly this momentary struggle that ultimately made her wake up early.

She looked at the pale yellow flower beside her, then at the red tea spilled at the base of the potted plant, then at her own disheveled clothes. The maid who had said she would bring clothes for her to change had never reappeared.

Jing Hengbo bolted upright and rushed out of the hall, looking left and right, but saw no one.

The person who had approached this hall earlier seemed to be a woman. This appeared to be the inner courtyard, and someone had created this illusion to use her to deceive another person. Though she couldn’t understand the motive or purpose, what they plotted must run deep.

She flashed to higher ground, her gaze falling on the surroundings of the flower hall where she’d been. If something was happening, it would definitely be nearby.

Then she heard strange sounds—muffled sobbing, like someone with their mouth and nose covered struggling, with occasional gasping sounds.

These sounds made all of Jing Hengbo’s hair stand on end—trouble!

Following the source of the sounds, she flashed toward a nearby courtyard. From the layout, this was clearly one of the main courtyards of the inner quarters. There were guards at the courtyard gate, but her teleportation was hardly something ordinary people could stop. Before they could react beyond a flash in their eyes, she was already in the western wing of that courtyard.

The western wing had three rooms. The outer room was a small parlor, while the door to the inner room was tightly shut. By the door lay an overturned chair, and muffled struggling and crying sounds came from within.

Hearing such sounds made Jing Hengbo’s scalp crawl. She rushed over, grabbed the chair, and swung it at the door.

With a thunderous crash, the door burst open, and the crying and gasping inside stopped abruptly.

Jing Hengbo immediately saw the girl pinned beneath two men—only sixteen or seventeen years old, her hair ornaments and clothes in complete disarray, raven-black hair spilled across the floor, tear tracks staining her rouge.

Any woman would be unable to bear seeing such a scene. In the next instant, Jing Hengbo hurled everything she could grab at those two scoundrels, striking viciously, aiming for their heads. With several dull thuds, the two men dressed as guards collapsed to the ground.

The girl climbed up with her clothes in tatters. She didn’t thank Jing Hengbo, didn’t even glance at her. She quickly arranged her dress and tied her sash. Her movements were extremely fast. Seeing that she could still remember to tidy her clothes at such a time gave Jing Hengbo some comfort, thinking perhaps she was a strong woman who might get through this ordeal. But as soon as the girl finished tying her dress, she lowered her head and crashed toward the corner of a nearby cabinet.

“Thud.” The dull sound was not of a head hitting hard redwood, but of a head hitting chest.

Jing Hengbo’s face went pale—this one’s death wish was truly resolute! That force could have broken her ribs.

Momentarily winded and unable to speak, she could only grip the girl’s shoulders, trying to restrain her from further self-harm.

The girl looked up, tears streaming, about to speak, when she suddenly saw Jing Hengbo’s face. Her expression changed drastically, and she lunged forward, actually biting toward Jing Hengbo’s throat.

Caught completely off guard, Jing Hengbo jerked her head aside. The bite missed her throat but caught her neck. She cried out in pain, “Ah!” But the girl had already pounced, hands locked around her throat with such force she seemed intent on strangling her to death, still crying, “…I came to save you with good intentions, yet you conspired with others to harm me like this… you deserve to die… you deserve to die…”

Jing Hengbo had already been winded from the collision and was struggling to breathe with a breath stuck in her chest. Originally she still had some strength to telekinetically control objects to deal with the girl, but now the room contained only large items—first, she might not be able to control them, and second, she feared poor control might kill someone. The girl was already so pitiful, she really couldn’t bring herself to act. But this moment of hesitation made her realize that the slender, weak woman pressing down on her, perhaps due to grief and hatred, had unusually great strength throughout her body. With that breath trapped in her chest, golden stars flashed before her eyes, all the blood in her body seemed to rush to her head. Her vision of dancing golden flowers was gradually invaded by patches of darkness. Her mind went blank, only vaguely and desperately thinking—she’d weathered so many great storms, was she really going to capsize in this gutter today, strangled to death by some inexplicable person in this inexplicable place…

Her consciousness gradually blurred. Before sinking into darkness, she vaguely heard the door bang open, as if many people rushed in. She silently cried in her heart: It’s over!

…

In the front courtyard, Prince Li Meng He, who had been completely mesmerized, tasted for the first time what it meant to hit an iron wall.

A person cold as snowy mountains was indeed an insurmountable snow peak. The moment he ordered his men to stop the intruder, the guards who rushed forward were already trampled underfoot by that snow-white figure who walked over them like dust, heading straight toward him.

Meng He was retreating. He had already acted personally moments ago, only to be instantly defeated. His opponent had needed merely a few moves to crush his fighting spirit. He suddenly realized that this person before him was not the ordinary martial artist he had imagined. That indifference that regarded all living beings as nothing could only belong to someone long accustomed to high position. When his opponent struck, his inner energy seemed unremarkable, with a feeling of alternating strength and weakness. Several times his qi surged with alarming momentum, as if it could take his life in an instant, yet just before the qi reached him, it would suddenly flow away like a great river. But even if his opponent’s qi was strange, the exquisiteness of his techniques was the finest he’d ever seen. Moreover, this person naturally emanated piercing cold that seemed to freeze one’s very blood, making fluid movement impossible.

This was not a snow ridge white chrysanthemum he could pluck, but a frosty moon cold and distant in the firmament.

So Meng He was quite sensible—after several moves, he turned and fled, calling loudly for Prefect Lei to come to his rescue. Prefect Lei did quickly rush out with men, but before reinforcements arrived, a cold breath approached from behind, and a hand was already on his shoulder.

Then with a “bang,” Meng He saw heaven and earth violently flip upside down, his back slamming hard into the ground. He heard his bones creak and nearly thought his back was broken.

Intense pain left him only able to gasp “hiss, hah, hiss, hah,” unable even to voice threats or warnings.

His golden crown was suddenly grabbed and his body dragged along the ground. Meng He never imagined he could be treated this way. In shock, rage, and pain, he shouted, “Let go! Let go!”

Gong Yin paid him no attention, dragging him forward with slightly furrowed brows.

It had been a while since he’d fought anyone, and upon fighting, he immediately discovered his recent problem—his true power was draining three times faster than usual. The more he used it, the faster it drained. Just dealing with a few guards had left him feeling weak internally, causing him to spare this scoundrel’s life when three moves should have been enough to end him, forced to stop due to sudden qi depletion.

At this drainage rate, he would have great difficulty in prolonged combat.

He headed toward the rear courtyard. Prefect Lei had no choice but to follow behind with his men, trembling with fear. The rear courtyard was also in chaos, with a large group of people pouring out from the moon gate—surprisingly many were guards. Gong Yin frowned, instinctively sensing danger—outer men couldn’t enter the inner courtyard, yet now so many fully armed guards were present, indicating the rear courtyard definitely had traps too.

Where was Jing Hengbo?

He looked up, his gaze suddenly turning cold.

Across from him, a woman emerged from within the moon gate, supporting another woman with a dagger pressed against her throat, firmly against her windpipe.

The supported woman’s head hung slightly, seemingly unconscious. Just by seeing those slightly curled hair tips, one could tell it was Jing Hengbo.

Worse still, she seemed covered in blood, her entire upper garment bright red, looking quite frightening. Gong Yin’s first glance sharpened his gaze.

Lei Yingying was still several zhang away across from him, but under that gaze, she felt a chill throughout her body, cold penetrating to her bones. She couldn’t help but retreat several steps with a pale face, withdrawing into the growing crowd of guards.

Fortunately, Gong Yin was naturally calm and composed. He immediately looked a second time carefully, only then realizing it seemed to be some kind of liquid. Though this put him somewhat at ease, it didn’t dispel his killing intent. Lei Yingying felt the surrounding cold grow more intense and couldn’t stop shivering.

She was sensible enough to transfer Jing Hengbo to the guard with the highest martial skills beside her, having the guard surround Jing Hengbo completely, leaving only her face visible, while hiding behind the guard herself and shouting across, “Your female companion is already in our hands. If you’re smart, release the person in your hands and surrender!”

Black iron armor flooded in like a tide behind Gong Yin—Prince Li’s full eight hundred guards had arrived. Anxious to see the wonderful person, he had only brought a dozen riders ahead, while the remaining guards had just arrived. Upon arrival, they immediately drew bows and nocked arrows, aiming at Gong Yin’s back, shouting angrily for him to immediately release their lord.

Gong Yin seemed not to hear, only staring intently at the opposite side. Everyone who met his ice-cold, penetrating gaze unconsciously shuddered.

Slowly, Gong Yin stepped forward.

The Meng He he dragged felt with each step that his scalp might tear, while his back and buttocks had long since worn through, now dragging across muddy ground full of broken stones—each step like being seared on knife points, making him scream in agony.

The group holding Jing Hengbo hostage, facing such a murderous Gong Yin and their screaming lord, couldn’t help but retreat a step in panic.

Gong Yin advanced another step.

That group retreated another step.

Advance again.

Retreat again.

Lei Yingying watched the opposite side with a pale face. She wanted to tell the guards not to retreat, but even she couldn’t control the enormous fear rising from her heart. Such a person needed no blustering threats or pretentious displays of force—he merely approached coldly, and they seemed to see a sharp-edged iceberg rumbling across the sea toward them, about to overturn their lone boat at any moment.

“Exchange! Exchange!” Prefect Lei ran over, spreading his arms wide behind Gong Yin and shouting, “We’ll exchange hostages!”

Gong Yin glanced down at Meng He, and that glance terrified Meng He into shouting, “Exchange hostages! No killing during the exchange!”

“Exchange! Exchange!” Lei Yingying’s dagger pressed against Jing Hengbo’s face, “You hesitate one moment, I’ll cut her once!”

She meant it as a threat, but looking at Jing Hengbo’s lowered face, beautiful as blooming flowers, suddenly felt intense jealousy rise in her heart. The knife tip pressed down, and Jing Hengbo’s snow-white cheek immediately showed a trace of crimson.

Gong Yin was very fast.

Before that crimson fully appeared on her skin, his fingers had already found the joint in Meng He’s arm and lightly pinched.

“Crack!” The crisp sound of breaking bone made everyone shudder, and Meng He’s screams became howls, “Ah—damn it—”

“You cut her once,” amid his screams, Gong Yin said coldly, “I’ll break one of Meng He’s limbs. And I guarantee not to endanger his life.”

The implication was that he guaranteed to send Meng He back crippled.

The Lei siblings looked at Meng He, whose eyes had reddened with pain and who glared at them viciously, their hearts turning ice-cold.

Now His Highness would certainly blame them for being captured and injured. Even if they rescued him later, nothing good would come of it!

His Highness’s eight hundred riders lived and died by their lord—if their master survived, they survived; if their master perished, they perished. Should anything happen to His Highness, these eight hundred riders would be enough to massacre the Lei family!

At this moment, the siblings regretted deeply—they had thought this was just an ordinary Beauty Hall manager from out of town, something to handle in minutes at the prefectural office with Prince Li’s men. Who knew they’d encounter such a tough nail!

“Exchange immediately! Afterward we swear not to harm you in the slightest! And we’ll provide travel passes to the nearby three cities to facilitate your departure from Puyang, as long as you don’t harm His Highness again!” Prefect Lei decided immediately—he had to try to regain some of His Highness’s favor.

“Exchange! Exchange!” Meng He roared, “Give him travel passes, give him silver, give him whatever he wants! Whoever causes this king further injury, this king will kill his entire family!” Fearing Gong Yin wouldn’t believe him, he added, “This king swears by the century-long inherited glory of the Meng royal bloodline that I absolutely will not pursue this matter afterward!”

Gong Yin merely smiled coldly, showing neither care nor indifference, pointing to the open ground ahead, “Both sides put away weapons. Release hostages simultaneously and walk toward each other.”

“Put away weapons! Put away weapons!”

Bows relaxed, blades sheathed. After a series of crisp metallic sounds from weapons, only the heavy, tense breathing of people remained.

Lei Yingying wiped her finger under Jing Hengbo’s nose. Jing Hengbo slowly opened her eyes, and with just one glance, locked onto Gong Yin across from her.

Only she could read the full anger and worry beneath Gong Yin’s calm gaze. She immediately smiled reassuringly at him, mouthing silently, “I’m fine.”

Her throat still burned painfully—that woman had been harsh. Fortunately, she checked herself and found no other injuries. Even when that woman had pounced to strangle her, she had pressed sideways with her elbow across her neck, not even touching her stomach.

She smiled calmly, but Gong Yin was not reassured. Given Jing Hengbo’s nature, at this moment she would immediately speak to ease his mind. Not speaking meant there was a problem.

His gaze searched carefully and saw her chin slightly lowered, as if hiding her neck, where faint purple bruises were visible. His eyebrow twitched, killing intent flashing through his eyes. Seeing them push Jing Hengbo forward, he kicked Meng He out, right in his injured spot.

Meng He shuddered with pain, gritting his teeth and hugging his arm as he rushed forward. Jing Hengbo walked out of the crowd, her steps also somewhat unsteady—the drug’s effects hadn’t worn off, making her appear soft.

The two originally maintained cautious distance of three feet, avoiding each other while walking toward opposite sides. Just as they were about to cross paths, Meng He, who had been walking crookedly while hugging his arm, suddenly turned, already completing a full turn to within a foot of Jing Hengbo. His sleeve whipped out and his good left hand snapped, ejecting a foot-long steel claw. The claw tip gleamed blue and sharp as a thorn, stabbing straight at Jing Hengbo’s heart!

Sinister laughter echoed among the crowd, “No one has ever injured this king and expected to escape unscathed…”

“Swoosh.” The steel claw caught nothing but air. Meng He’s laughter cut off abruptly as he stared in shock, unable to understand how the person who had just been there had suddenly vanished.

His reaction was quick too—he immediately retreated rapidly. For his own safety, he hadn’t gotten completely close to Jing Hengbo, so retreating now was quite convenient.

But it was too late. A hand extended ghostlike from what should have been his empty side, seizing his wounded arm and twisting viciously.

“Crack!”

The crisp sound of sinews and bones breaking again.

Meng He’s screams had changed pitch, sharp and horrifying, as if the courtyard walls a hundred zhang away might collapse from the sound.

In the screaming, his body involuntarily went limp and fell, caught by someone who patted his face like petting a dog and chuckled.

Hearing this woman’s laughter at such a moment, Meng He, whose mind was foggy with pain, rolled his eyes and fainted directly from rage.

The hostage exchange had taken an unexpected turn—the captor had been captured. Prefect Lei and his sister stared dumbfounded. They could have guessed Meng He would play dirty, as he always carried various harmful devices, but they hadn’t anticipated this result.

There were actually people in this world more cunning and vicious than such villains.

Though Meng He harbored ill intent, Jing Hengbo had long been prepared to act against him. She hadn’t used teleportation to immediately return to Gong Yin’s side precisely because she was waiting to deal with Meng He. Even if Meng He hadn’t struck, she would have grabbed his throat just the same.

Her neck couldn’t be strangled for nothing! She couldn’t be framed for nothing!

Using exactly the same posture as Gong Yin, she dragged the unconscious Meng He and smiled as she walked toward Gong Yin.

But danger struck from an unexpected quarter.

She had just taken a step.

Suddenly a fierce whistle pierced the air, winds stirred from all directions, and an arrow came flying!

That arrow was swift as lightning and howling as a lament. A row of willow trees nearby suddenly shuddered and exploded in long white gashes.

Even Jing Hengbo could only dodge quickly, unable to continue dragging Meng He.

The fierce sound like a whistle made everyone’s ears ring.

A moment later.

Blood sprayed.

Everyone’s gaze fixed straight ahead on the ground.

Prince Li Meng He lay with eyes wide open in death, blood streaming, pierced through the chest by a long arrow and pinned dead to the ground.