Chu Zhao was awake only briefly, but she no longer sank into chaotic dreams.

Her consciousness had recovered. She knew her current predicament and understood what had happened.

She had been poisoned, but fortunately not deeply. Mu Mianhong had used a bunch of folk remedies that, while they couldn’t make her immediately lucid, would not endanger her life.

They had escaped the hunting grounds and fled the capital, but pursuers continued behind them, and roadblocks still lay ahead.

When Chu Zhao occasionally regained consciousness, she was either galloping on Mu Mianhong’s horse or being held in preparation to continue their journey.

During this time, she saw Xiao Man. When Mu Mianhong held her, Xiao Man’s face would appear before her eyes, giving her water with her left hand. Chu Zhao saw her right shoulder wrapped in bandages—

Back at the hunting grounds, Xiao Man had blocked the arrow Xie Yanfang shot at her, and it had pierced through her shoulder. As long as she was alive, that was good.

She also saw Ding Dachui. Ding Dachui was severely injured and was also being carried, making a fuss about not wanting everyone to keep bringing him along.

“Like this, no one will get away—” “Put me down—”

Later, Chu Zhao no longer saw Ding Dachui. Perhaps Mu Mianhong had hidden him somewhere to recuperate. She didn’t know how he would fare.

Chu Zhao thought that when he had shouted, his voice had been full of vigor. He should be safe, right?

She hoped he would be.

This time, she didn’t know how many from the Guard Bureau and Imperial Guards would survive.

Also, she still hadn’t seen Xie Yanlai.

When she woke, she would struggle to look left and right, asking in a voice even she couldn’t hear where Xie Yanlai was. Mu Mianhong would say he was busy, busy.

That’s right—he must be busy. Clearing the path ahead, blocking pursuers behind.

Being busy was good.

Being busy meant he was still there.

Having received an answer, Chu Zhao would fall back into sleep, though her hands remained tightly clenched.

Mu Mianhong held her hands, rubbing them to help them relax, saying softly to those beside her, “Not easy to deceive. She must be worried in her heart.”

The men nearby sighed.

“Miss A’Zhao’s condition is getting worse and worse.”

One man said, stepping forward to check Chu Zhao’s pulse. “We need to settle down quickly and clear the remaining poison. Otherwise, it will cause lifelong problems.”

Mu Mianhong looked ahead. “We’ve been circling around here for nearly ten days. How much longer until our forces can fight their way through? How exactly is Zhong Changrong deploying troops? I’ve long said he’s useless.”

“Zhong Changrong can mobilize the troops of Yunzhong Prefecture to cover our tracks, but outside Yunzhong Prefecture is another matter,” the men said in low voices. “Especially now that orders have been issued to suppress bandits, checkpoints have been set up everywhere.”

Mu Mianhong looked down at the sleeping Chu Zhao, her usually peaceful eyes unable to hide some anxiety.

“Chief—” A shout came from not far away as a scout came running at full speed.

More pursuers coming, everyone was used to it. Every time they could barely catch their breath, pursuers would arrive. The men immediately grabbed their weapons and prepared to mount their horses.

“The pursuers have withdrawn,” the scout said breathlessly.

Everyone froze. Withdrawn?

“Also, the bandit suppression and roadblock checkpoints have all been lifted,” the scout continued.

Everyone was even more astonished.

“Could this be some kind of trap?”

“Chief, do we go or not?”

Mu Mianhong looked thoughtfully ahead, then toward the direction of the capital. She said softly, “They may really have all withdrawn.”

She looked down at the hand she held. Despite the massage, Chu Zhao’s hand remained tightly clenched, unwilling to release.

“Let’s go,” she said, turning around. Two men skillfully used cloth strips to bind Chu Zhao to her back. “We’re going home. Going home.”

…

The orders to suppress bandits and investigate Xi Liang spies had been sent toward the northwest. The area south of the capital was unaffected, but large forces of troops surrounded Qiao Mountain Academy.

That day was Chu Tang’s wedding day. She had already bowed to heaven, earth, and parents, and had been sent to the bridal chamber. She sat on the marriage bed covered with a bridal veil, waiting for her husband who was outside entertaining guests.

The bridal chamber was quiet, warm, and festive. Occasionally, sounds of sighing could be heard, along with the crunching of dried fruits being eaten.

Chu Tang, covered by the bridal veil, sighed. “A’Le, you should go rest. Don’t stay with me anymore.”

A’Le sat at the table peeling a dried fruit. “No, I must stay with Miss A’Tang in place of my young lady.”

At this, she looked around. Because she was a princess, and because the Emperor and Empress had personally sent envoys to attend the wedding, this family had done everything possible to make the wedding magnificent and splendid.

But it still couldn’t compare to the grand scene of the Emperor and Empress’s wedding years ago.

But so what? Miss A’Tang was truly getting married, to the person she loved.

As for the young lady—she would never have a real wedding in this lifetime.

A’Le sniffled and chewed the dried fruit forcefully. Chu Tang was about to say something when the window was suddenly thrown open and someone jumped inside.

Chu Tang, covered by the veil, immediately knew who had entered.

“Xiao Tu.”

She called out, “Are you also coming in to eat fruit?”

Xiao Tu said, “Sister A’Tang, leave quickly. Something’s happened.”

Chu Tang lifted her veil and stood up, her expression both shocked and somewhat excited. So finally, something had happened?

…

The groom’s steps were swift as wind. Having drunk several cups of wine, his steps staggered, but he still rushed straight to the bridal chamber.

“A’Tang—” he called out, pushing the door open. “You must leave quickly—”

Before he could finish, his feet stumbled forward, and at the same time, someone pressed down on his shoulders and back. He felt a cold sensation at the back of his neck.

The groom couldn’t help but shiver. He raised his head to look forward and saw the bright red skirt and the bright red face of the bride.

“Xiao Tu, Xiao Tu, don’t act rashly,” Chu Tang called out hastily, but she also didn’t let Xiao Tu get up. “Just knock him unconscious.”

The groom was startled, but had no time to examine the bride’s words closely. He only said urgently, “A’Tang, something’s happened. Leave quickly. There’s a hidden door in the back courtyard—”

Chu Tang stopped Xiao Tu’s raised sword hilt and said gently, “Husband, you came to let me escape?”

This address of “husband” made the groom somewhat dizzy. “Yes, my cousin works at the government office. He received word and secretly came to tell me. The soldiers haven’t arrived yet, but they will soon. Leave quickly.”

Chu Tang nodded at him. “Thank you. I understand. I’ve already packed and will leave right away.”

The groom’s gaze fell on her and saw that she indeed had a small bundle on her back.

“I always prepare. Wherever I go, I pack my luggage in advance,” Chu Tang said with a smile, her expression somewhat wistful. Although she always said she was prepared, she was actually praying she wouldn’t need to use it.

Who would have thought this day would still come?

The groom’s expression was relieved. “That’s good, that’s good. A’Tang, leave quickly.”

But Chu Tang didn’t step away. Looking at the groom prostrate on the ground, her eyes flickered. “But this time I want to pack one more piece of luggage.”

She said, crouching down and extending her hand. “Husband, are you willing to flee with me?”

The groom looked at her and grasped her hand without hesitation.

“Of course I’m willing.”

…

In the dim night, footsteps were chaotic in the streets and alleys, mixed with low exclamations.

“Why bring him? With one more person, what if we can’t run?”

“Ah, I’ll run faster.”

“Don’t be afraid, husband. Xiao Tu is very capable. He can handle two more people.”

“Hmph, Miss A’Tang is praising me again to make me do more work.”

“—A’Le, don’t run around—”

“Let me go! I want to go to the capital! I want to save my young lady! Wuu wuu wuu, something’s happened to my young lady!”

Chu Tang grabbed A’Le. To be honest, this maid was much stronger than she was.

“A’Le, listen to me. Even if you go back now, you can’t help your young lady,” she said, enunciating each word. “Right now, protecting yourself and keeping yourself safe is the best protection you can offer your young lady.”

A’Le looked at her, tears streaming down, and stopped struggling. “Where are we going now? Back to the academy?”

Chu Tang shook her head. “No. The academy will definitely be raided too. We’ll hide first, for as long as we can.”

With that, she looked at the dozen or so figures rising and falling around them in the night, her voice becoming soft again.

“Xiao Tu, our safety is in your hands.”

In the night, the young man’s voice grunted, then cut through the darkness like a blade moving forward. Chu Tang quickly lifted her feet. The young master beside her reached out to hold her hand. Chu Tang smiled at him and tightly held his hand, following quickly.

A’Le looked once more in the direction of the capital, raised her hand to wipe her tears, and followed.

…

In the morning light, Qiao Mountain Academy was surrounded by troops, but they hadn’t been able to enter because between the troops and the academy stood several hundred people.

They were of varying ages, dressed differently, but all stood firmly surrounding the academy, facing the troops without retreating.

The commanding officer, who had been waiting calmly in the back thinking that arresting one Chu Lan would be a simple matter, had no choice but to ride forward.

“How dare you!” he shouted. “Chu Lan is a criminal wanted by the court. You dare to harbor him and obstruct us!”

A scholar standing at the very front responded mildly, “May I ask what crime he has committed?”

“He attempted rebellion,” the officer shouted.

“What nonsense are you spouting?”

This statement caused many scholars inside to shout.

“Master Chu plotting rebellion? He spends all day reading and teaching. Where would he find time to rebel?”

“Everyone in the entire prefecture can attest to what Master Chu has been doing!”

“We follow Master Chu every day. Does that mean we’re also plotting rebellion?”

“Master Chu bought the land at the foot of the mountain to let poor students study and support themselves by farming. Is this rebellion?”

In fact, as the local garrison commander, he was quite clear about what Chu Lan had been doing. After all, he had once hoped to befriend him, but Chu Lan only wanted to discuss poetry and philosophy. Unable to get close, he had given up.

To speak of rebellion was indeed hard to convince the masses.

“Let me tell you,” the commander said coldly. “The latest report from the capital states that Empress Chu attempted rebellion and has already fled out of fear of punishment. As a member of the Empress’s family, Chu Lan is naturally considered an accomplice.”

The scene fell deathly silent.

This was news he had just received. The commander thought to himself that when he received the news, he too had been shocked and incredulous.

His gaze swept over the scholars present. Now they understand the severity, now they’re afraid, right?

But the next moment, someone let out a curse.

“Nonsense! How could the Empress rebel!”

With this shout, the deathly still pond boiled over.

“That’s right! How could the Empress rebel!”

“Even if the Empress wanted to rebel, she wouldn’t need to wait until now!”

“You officer, are you a remnant of Prince Zhongshan’s faction?”

“We need to report this to the authorities!”

“No, we need to report this to the court!”

With these shouts, the scholars who had been standing still surged toward the officer and troops.

The commander’s expression showed fear. What was wrong with these scholars?

Not only were they not afraid, they were even questioning him?

Did they trust the Empress this much?

Hearing shouts of “Arrest these spies” rising from the crowd, the commander’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He had come to arrest someone, but if he were truly surrounded by these civilians, he would lose all face.

“Sir,” a personal guard asked urgently. “What do we do? Arrest them all?”

The commander glanced at the surging scholars, then looked back. The city was also filled with countless civilians surging forward. If they really tried to arrest them all, they couldn’t finish—a layer of fine sweat appeared on his forehead.

“Sir, sir—” A guard came riding at full speed. “New orders from the court—”

The commander quickly reached out to receive it, opened it for a glance, sighed with relief, and waved his hand. “Withdraw.”

The personal guard was stunned. Although arresting people was somewhat frightening, not arresting them was also a bit embarrassing.

“What face? This is an order from the court,” the commander shouted. “Do you dare disobey?”

The personal guard quickly shook his head. He didn’t dare, but he just felt the court’s orders were too changeable.

The signal was given, the troops pulled back, receding like a tide, leaving behind the clamor of civilians outside the academy.

Learning that the soldiers had withdrawn, Chu Lan, hiding in the study, finally relaxed his tense shoulders and exhaled with his eyes closed.

“Master, what’s happening?” Jiang Shi asked urgently. “How did it suddenly become rebellion?” She stamped her feet and wept.

“I knew it. Sooner or later, she would get us killed.”

Then thinking of something else.

“Master, let’s report to the authorities! Draw a clear line with her.”

Chu Lan opened his eyes and shouted, “What nonsense!”

This was the first time he had rebuked her over Chu Zhao. Jiang Shi was stunned.

“Stop talking nonsense,” Chu Lan sat down and let out a long sigh. “We can’t draw a clear line with her. If she lives, we can live. If she dies, we won’t live either.”

This was fate. He accepted it.

However, they had said it was rebellion, yet the troops withdrew without arresting anyone. What was going on?

Had they escaped this calamity?

…

As daylight brightened, several officials gathered on the Imperial Street outside the palace, discussing something in low voices. Suddenly, they heard the sound of horse hooves. They looked up and saw dozens of guards escorting a large black carriage slowly approaching.

These guards carried crossbows on their backs and heavy swords at their waists. The sunlight plated a layer of gold on their armor. The carriage stopped before the palace gates. A guard lifted the curtain, and a person bent down and emerged.

This person wore no armor, no official robes—just a black robe with a gold-and-jade-inlaid belt. His long legs touched the ground as he straightened and raised his head. He wore a golden beast-face mask.

Perhaps frightened by the beast mask, the area before the palace gates fell still.

The man in the golden beast mask passed by the officials and proceeded inside. Only after he passed through the palace gates did the officials feel their breathing return to normal.

“I heard Third Young Master Xie destroyed his face while rescuing the Emperor—”

“That’s definitely not Third Young Master Xie’s bearing!”

“I heard it’s a new young master from the Xie family, presiding over the court in place of Third Young Master.”

They looked again toward the palace gates, gazing at the man’s tall figure. In the flickering light and shadow, though he wore plain clothing, he was dazzling to behold.