Yan Chi appeared today with his hair halfbound, dressed in casual attire—a dark robe embroidered with golden patterns that accentuated his broad shoulders and long arms, emanating an overwhelming presence.
This was Qin Wan’s first time seeing Yan Chi up close. She found him extraordinarily handsome, his eyes like a cold night scattered with stars—gleaming with pride yet carrying a threatening chill, much like the short blade in his hand.
It was a blade not meant for combat. About three inches long with an extremely short handle carved with dragon patterns, its tip curved in an elegant arc as if cut from the waxing moon. The scabbard was inlaid with multicolored gems, both luxurious and noble.
Though it appeared as delicate as a plaything, even through the scabbard, Qin Wan could sense its sharp, murderous aura.
Qin Wan exchanged a glance with Yan Chi before accepting the blade. The scabbard still held the warmth from Yan Chi’s palm, and facing his straight back, Qin Wan felt herself weaken slightly under that lingering warmth.
The short blade was slightly heavier than Qin Wan had imagined. She drew it in one motion, immediately narrowing her eyes. The blade was forged from rare refined iron, it’s surface mirror-bright, its edge gleaming with a cold light. Most importantly, its design was exquisite and easy to control. The entire blade was as thin as a cicada’s wing, easily concealed in a sleeve or hairpin—Qin Wan was thoroughly satisfied.
“This is Han Yue (Cold Moon). Does it suit you?”
Qin Wan looked up at Yan Chi again, their eyes meeting. Her gaze held a composure like mist over cold smoke.
“This blade will serve. Thank you, Young Lord.”
Yan Chi looked past Qin Wan’s shoulder toward the Imperial Princess. His eyes narrowed for a moment, clearly realizing the Princess was critically ill. His lips dipped as he fixed his gaze on Qin Wan. “Are you confident?”
Qin Wan gripped Han Yue, meeting Yan Chi’s deep gaze.
His eyes, usually sparkling like stars, now resembled a bottomless abyss that could draw people in—stars fell, pitch black. Qin Wan felt her scalp tighten; even with her strong willpower, she nearly retreated from his gaze.
She hadn’t forgotten that before she stood a man born to the imperial family, a demon king who had achieved military glory in his youth.
He wasn’t just a warrior who only understood military formations and siege warfare, nor was he the bright young man who smiled brilliantly before the Imperial Princess. He moved between court and frontier, wielding unreachable power through his military achievements with casual ease.
Beneath that handsome and noble exterior, within that dignified and sturdy frame, lay a mind of unfathomable depth and unmatched political acumen—this was the true Yan Chi.
Qin Wan tightened her grip on Han Yue. “As long as one person believes in me, I won’t let them down.”
Yan Chi’s eyes narrowed further, then the depths in his eyes cleared, stars rising again from the ocean’s horizon. His lips curved. “If you save Aunt, this Han Yue is yours.”
Qin Wan was stunned, but Yan Chi turned away with a smile. “Lord Yue, Brother Jia, let’s wait outside.”
Yan Chi’s arrival had been sudden, and only now did Yue Qiong and the others react. His Han Yue had solved their urgent problem, and after hearing Qin Wan’s words, Yue Qiong said “We’re counting on you” before leaving.
Qin Wan quickly regained her composure, glancing at Han Yue, her expression firm as stone.
Once outside, Yue Qiong’s brows furrowed as he looked around, growling, “Where is Qing?! He upset Mother to this state, yet where has he run off to now?!”
Yue Jia’s eyes were bloodshot. “Father, don’t worry. People have been sent to search for him.”
Yue Qiong clenched his fists. The Imperial Princess’s critical condition weighed on him like a boulder. His usually robust and tall frame seemed to shrink, the gray at his temples more prominent—he had aged visibly in a single night.
“Magistrate Huo will surely arrive soon. Qing… bring him back. No matter what, if he truly committed a crime, he must confess.” Yue Qiong shook his head. “First your marriage was ruined, now Qing… how could Mother bear it?”
Yue Jia nodded. Yesterday he had been a spirited bridegroom; today he appeared haggard and dejected.
Yan Chi, hearing this, raised his eyebrows. “When I returned through the side gate, there was a crowd of commoners causing trouble outside. I vaguely heard that the Second Young Master had beaten someone to death. Did Aunt fall ill because of this?”
Yan Chi had left early, settling his military escort at the Jinzhou garrison. Returning to find the Imperial Princess critically ill, he had rushed over, unaware of the specific cause.
Yue Qiong nodded. “Indeed. Yesterday’s matter isn’t settled yet, and today…”
Just then, Lady Jiang emerged from inside, wiping tears. “Two murder cases in succession—I wonder if our household has offended some evil spirit. We won’t speak of Jia’er’s matter, but though Qing’er enjoys martial arts, he wouldn’t beat someone to death.”
Yue Qiong walked over and put an arm around Lady Jiang’s shoulders.
Yue Qiong and Lady Jiang had married young, living in harmony without taking concubines—reportedly a family tradition of the Yue household. Yue Qiong had spent his early years serving in the military, leaving the couple often apart. The household management had fallen entirely to Lady Jiang, so Yue Qiong felt both love and gratitude toward her. Now, he was even more protective of her.
“Mother’s illness takes priority now. I’ve already sent someone to Magistrate Huo. Don’t worry—if Qing has been wrongly accused, Magistrate Huo will surely clear his name.”
He then turned to Yue Ning. “Ning’er, help your mother prepare what Miss Qin needs and take care of her.”
Yue Ning quickly nodded. Though she had trained in martial arts since childhood and had masculine courage, she was very filial to her mother. Hearing this, she promptly supported Lady Jiang toward the household stores.
The dark cloud of the Second Young Master’s alleged murder hung over everyone’s hearts, but the Imperial Princess’s illness was their most pressing concern. Yue Qiong and the others waited in the side hall, watching servants carry medicines and decoctions in and out. After half an hour without seeing Qin Wan emerge, Lady Jiang and Yue Ning joined them in the side hall.
“Miss Qin is applying acupuncture to Mother, who hasn’t woken yet.”
Lady Jiang sighed, and Yue Qiong hurried to comfort her. “Mother is seriously ill; naturally, she won’t wake easily.”
Everyone in the room waited anxiously. Another half hour passed before Green Sleeve rushed into the side hall, her face panic-stricken. “Master, Madam—”
Yue Qiong and the others immediately stood up. “How is Mother?”
Green Sleeve was nearly in tears. “Master, Madam… Miss Qin… she… she wants to cut open the Imperial Princess’s belly…”
“What?!”
Lady Jiang cried out in shock, her knees buckling as she nearly fainted.