Inside Chongming Palace, thunderous sounds continued without cease. The guards held their swords and blades, aimed at the iron cage that trapped Xiao Ying.
The iron cage was violently shaking, the sound of cracking constantly ringing out. The outermost iron plate gradually deformed, forcibly bulging out with the mark of a fist.
The guards looked at each other in dismay.
Everyone said assassins weren’t known for their strength, yet this one’s martial prowess was surprisingly profound.
Suddenly there was an explosive bang. The outermost iron plate, three inches thick, finally broke open. A fist appeared at the opening, then with the opening as center, cracks spread like a spider web. In the next instant, there was a sharp crack.
Chi Xue: “Stab!”
Swords and blades struck out together. The masked guards didn’t retreat a single step, letting those iron plates crash into their bodies and faces. Long spears and swords passed through the flying fragments, stabbing toward the person who burst out with a long howl.
Fragments and blood spray flew together. In this instant, Xiao Ying took countless sword wounds, letting out a piercing shriek. Her lightning-fast leaping form swept up the iron fragments like a black skirt. The next moment came a thunderous sound—the palace roof was broken through, roof tiles clattered chaotically, and in a flash she was gone.
Tie Ci, draped in a black cloak that concealed her bloodstains, now stood behind the palace wall, slowly turning back to watch that woman stagger away bleeding.
From the way she had finally damaged countless glazed tiles, her injuries were severe.
She merely watched expressionlessly for a moment, then turned her head. Before her was a secret opening with a telescope mounted. Tie Ci looked through it for a while, then slowly put it down.
As expected.
Duan Yande was also watching. He didn’t recognize that group of people—they looked like a bunch of villagers, yet he’d never seen such formidable villagers.
Watching the Crown Princess’s expression, he said, “Does Your Highness recognize them?”
Tie Ci nodded.
She closed her eyes and thought for a moment, knowing in her heart that news of her death had indeed drawn people out, but wanting to lure this entire group into Chongming Palace to catch them all in one net was almost impossible.
Not to mention there were still cabinet ministers in the palace.
Next would depend on whether Tong Rushi would actually enter Chongming Palace.
Across from them, Tong Rushi’s gaze swept over the tightly closed palace gates, but he didn’t step forward.
He merely waved his hand.
Ah Hei beside him stepped forward, half-kneeling on the ground, striking the ground with her fist.
Lady Sun floated up, her figure flashing through the air.
Two thunderous crashes rang out almost simultaneously. The ground before Ah Hei’s knees cracked into a great fissure, the gap reaching straight to Chongming Palace’s wall, winding upward along the wall’s base, quickly forming a densely woven spider web. Moments later, with a tremendous crash, half the wall collapsed.
Lady Sun flipped and returned like a light bird from atop the wall. The crossbow bolts on Chongming Palace’s wall all fired due to the tremor, but couldn’t catch up to her figure at all. Where her feet had touched the wall surface, countless mottled marks appeared. After a moment, when the wind blew, the solid wall crumbled in the cold snow.
In just the blink of an eye, Chongming Palace’s walls had been broken with two great holes on left and right, like two enormous wounds. Through the openings, one could see the panicked guards in the courtyard, and further away the half-open, half-closed great hall with its interior in complete disarray.
Tong Rushi signaled for Cui Shi to step forward.
Cui Shi laughed and slowly walked forward. With a light flick of his finger, a thread of black dispersed through the broken wall opening. Several guards near the wall suddenly collapsed silently. Those beside them were startled and instinctively went to help, but as soon as their hands touched the others’ skin, they immediately fell and instantly stiffened.
Someone shouted, “The poison is fierce, don’t get close!”
The surging crowd retreated like a tide.
Tong Rushi said quietly, “Listen, those inside. Within a quarter-hour, carry out the corpses of the Emperor and Crown Princess, and bring out the imperial seal, placing it atop the Emperor’s corpse. If you don’t comply after a quarter-hour, this poison will be sent throughout all of Chongming Palace.”
The moment Ah Hei and the others made their move, Tie Ci had already returned to the inner hall and wasn’t watching outside.
Hearing the transmitted voice, her expression remained unchanged.
Duan Yande said anxiously, “Your Highness…”
Tie Ci shook her head, closed her eyes to rest. Duan Yande didn’t dare disturb her, organizing the guards into defensive lines himself. Seeing that more than half the time had passed, he returned to the hall to find Tie Ci writing.
At such a time, she still wrote stroke by stroke, calmly and unhurriedly.
Duan Yande didn’t know whether to marvel at the Crown Princess’s composure in great matters, or worry whether she had gone mad.
Tie Ci finished writing, set down her brush, and even looked it over.
Duan Yande anxiously watched the Western clock.
Tie Ci said, “Vice Minister, go curse the traitorous rebels.”
Duan Yande: “Huh?”
Tie Ci said softly, “Grief, despair, unwillingness, hatred… just treat it like writing a manifesto against traitors. Curse for a full quarter-hour, then return crying, helplessly and painfully surrendering.”
Duan Yande: “…”
Tie Ci waved her hand. Duan Yande had no choice but to go out and cry and curse.
Fortunately for a senior minister who had placed first in the imperial examinations, cursing people wasn’t difficult. Duan Yande vaguely understood Tie Ci’s meaning, hiding behind the wall to loudly curse the traitorous rebels as heartless wolves. His cursing made Tong Rushi’s face iron-blue, and unable to bear it any longer, he ordered them to teach him a lesson. Smoke and dust rolled before the palace wall with rocks flying everywhere. Duan Yande was desperately dragged back by the guards, still letting out a despairing wail.
Tie Ci listened from inside the hall, nodding slightly.
Those who became high officials indeed all had good acting skills.
Now the atmosphere was about right.
She looked toward Chi Xue, who understood and said, “Does Your Highness need me to make two fake corpses?”
There was worry in her eyes.
Obviously His Highness was in poor condition, trying to preserve her strength by speaking as little as possible.
Tie Ci nodded. Chi Xue immediately went to make arrangements. Tie Ci pulled out a square box from under the desk—red wood with nine dragons carved and blue gold stone inlay, looking like a box for holding the imperial seal. She handed it to Chi Xue.
Chi Xue didn’t ask questions, took it and left.
Duan Yande returned. His acting was indeed realistic—his head was actually injured, casually wrapped with a handkerchief. He roughly understood Tie Ci’s meaning and said carefully, “Your Highness, this won’t fool them either. And once we do this, they’ll be able to guess that you’re still alive.”
“Only when they guess I’m alive will they come in to die,” Tie Ci said. “The three zhang before Chongming Palace, the hundred zhang within the palace—that will be their burial ground.”
…
The Liaodong elites moved swiftly through the alleys, obviously very familiar with the southern city’s terrain.
If pursuers approached, someone would come out to intercept or divert attention, or create diversions for cover.
Clearly, in this chaotic southern city, Liaodong had also placed quite a few personnel.
Chazi watched these people advance extremely quickly, appearing ready to immediately get Murong Yi out of the capital. She tilted her head slightly, sensing the increasingly weak breath of the person behind her, her heart burning with anxiety. Suddenly she stopped.
The black-clad leader immediately turned back to look at her impatiently.
“The Young Master can’t travel any further,” Chazi said, feeling Murong Yi’s pulse. “He must first treat his injuries and rest.”
“No,” the black-clad man rejected outright. “If we don’t take advantage of the Great Qian’s slow reaction to leave the city now, it might be difficult to get out later.”
“Long-distance travel will kill the Young Master!” Chazi wouldn’t yield an inch.
Mu Si also stepped forward, standing beside her.
“Staying here will kill him just the same!”
“Between possibly dying and certainly dying, I choose the former.” Chazi was about to jump down from the rooftop carrying Murong Yi.
The black-clad man reached out to grab her neck.
Suddenly a cold arrow shot over, aimed straight at his face. The black-clad man hurriedly withdrew his hand and turned to see many people leaping onto the roof ridge, led by Zhao San holding a powerful crossbow.
This type of powerful crossbow was many times stronger than their lightweight hand crossbows.
Capital city gates had strict inspections—discovery of powerful crossbows, standard military weapons, meant serious crime. But Zhao San had been doing business successfully in the capital during this period, and with the convenience of commerce, doing such things was much easier.
He aimed the powerful crossbow at the Liaodong elites, while his subordinates beside him carried buckets and torches.
Meeting the black-clad men’s cold stares, Zhao San said, “I know we’re no match for you, but if the powerful crossbow can’t kill you, we’ll pour oil and set fires. Guess whether the pursuers will immediately find us?”
“You’re insane!”
“Right, insane, driven insane.” Zhao San raised his eyes, glanced at Murong Yi, tears immediately welling up, choking out, “Since it’s come to this, if we must die, let’s die together!”
Mu Si looked at him in shock.
He had never imagined that the timid Zhao San, who was always hesitant about everything, would have a day of burning bridges.
The black-clad man and Zhao San stared at each other for a long while. Hearing the pursuers’ sounds getting closer and seeing everyone’s eyes filled with hatred, he had no choice but to grit his teeth, jump down first, and say, “Follow me!”
Chazi immediately followed. Zhao San still held his crossbow as he followed at the very back. Watching the black-clad men ahead turn left and right, often when there clearly was no path, he would lift a tarp and a route would appear, or when encountering a dilapidated low wall, he would push and reveal a door.
Zhao San watched from behind, his heart filling with deep sorrow.
These were originally Embroidered Uniform Guard tracking and hiding techniques, now being used by the Great King as secret agents in the capital.
The Embroidered Uniform Guards had already fallen into the Great King’s hands.
The talents the Young Master had painstakingly cultivated had been seized by the Great King.
If the Young Master could have stayed in Liaodong all along, such things would never have happened.
The Young Master wouldn’t have fallen to such a state…
Zhao San lowered his head.
No, that wasn’t right.
If not for him, the Young Master wouldn’t have fallen to such a state.
He had harmed the Young Master.
His shoulder was suddenly patted. Zhao San looked up with tearful eyes to see Mu Si beside him, expressionlessly watching ahead, saying coldly, “Don’t cry, and don’t rush to blame yourself. No matter what you’re thinking, what we should do now is endure and wait—wait for the day the Young Master stands up again. Until then, we don’t even deserve to die.”
Zhao San made a muffled choking sound in his throat and nodded heavily.
The sounds of pursuers close at hand gradually faded away.
They had gone deep into the center of the slums.
Finally, the black-clad man led them into a dilapidated shack. The shack leaned against a large tree and a small hill. The black-clad man scraped away what looked like particularly filthy walls of the shack, revealing a door built into the tree trunk. Passing through that door, the view suddenly opened up.
It was a secret chamber using the shack as cover, the tree as a door, and the hollowed-out mountain belly as rooms.
The secret chamber was divided into many rooms—some for storing food, some for water storage, some for weapons, some for medicine, and some for rest.
Clearly this was the lair these Liaodong elites had established in the slums.
Chazi carried Murong Yi into the inner room, immediately ordering people to boil water and prepare knives, scissors, and bandages, but she didn’t use the medicine here, instead taking out her own medicine bottle.
She fed Murong Yi a pill—she had already given him one before, but now regretted it. If she had known, she wouldn’t have given it, otherwise where would the strength come from to torment himself by going back?
Only after giving the medicine did she begin treating his wounds. It took considerable effort because the several layers of clothing inside and out had been stuck together by congealed blood, with ice crystals forming. She had to first wash with hot water, then use scissors to cut open the clothing. The discarded clothes were hardened by ice and blood, hitting the ground with a thud.
After seeing Murong Yi’s wounds clearly, Chazi drew in a sharp breath.
Shocking to behold.
The most severe was still the blade that had entered his abdomen, nearly piercing through, though luckily it hadn’t injured internal organs.
But Chazi’s gaze fell on the wound below his ribs.
That wound was particularly gruesome. With Chazi’s medical eye, she could see that the previous wound wasn’t very severe, but afterward had been torn open by five fingers.
Chazi’s scalp tingled.
Her gaze slowly turned to Murong Yi’s fingers.
They were covered in flesh and blood.
Originally she had thought it was someone else’s.
But now it seemed…
Why?
Chazi had already been puzzled about Murong Yi killing Tie Yan.
But she felt it wasn’t impossible—after all, the Young Master had once promised to kill the Great Qian Emperor, something everyone in the Liaodong court knew.
Privately, she hoped the Young Master would complete his mission, smoothly inherit the throne, and not disappoint those years of hardship.
Reason told her that Murong Yi couldn’t possibly do such a thing.
Until this moment, seeing Murong Yi’s wounds, she finally confirmed what had happened.
Chazi stared blankly at that gruesome wound, as if also seeing Murong Yi’s grief and despair at that moment—that hand thrust into the wound, digging out a heart that would never betray.
Yet ultimately discarded in the deep snow and ruins of Chongming Palace.
Chazi’s tears fell one by one beside the bed.
She felt she had never cried so much in her entire life.
She wept as she treated Murong Yi’s wounds, while Zhao San gritted his teeth and stood beside her, wiping away her tears and sweat.
The room was so quiet a pin could be heard dropping, with only the soft sounds of knives and arrows clinking, and tears hitting the wooden bed’s edge.
Murong Yi had weakened to the extreme.
Even the excruciating pain of treating his wounds hadn’t awakened him.
After finally finishing the bandaging, basin after basin of bloody water was carried out. Zhao San and Mu Si breathed sighs of relief.
They had confidence in Chazi’s medical skills—after all, she had studied under the Mad Doctor.
Chazi was taking Murong Yi’s pulse, but her brow gradually furrowed.
Zhao San watched her uneasily, tentatively asking softly, “The Young Master is fine now, right?”
Chazi didn’t answer. She put down her hand, tucked Murong Yi’s covers properly, got up and brightened the oil lamp.
Deep in the mountain’s belly, lamps were needed day and night. She didn’t even know what time it was outside.
But no matter what time, it was all ice, snow, and no sunlight.
Just like her current mood.
With her back to Zhao San and Mu Si, she didn’t turn around. Looking up at the water clock, calculating when Murong Yi’s condition might worsen, she said softly, “No, the real danger hasn’t begun yet.”
…