Shisan Lang and Yang Xingjian had heard no news of Wei Xun for many days, suffering in anxiety and fear. Suddenly seeing him return carrying the unconscious Baozhu, learning she had survived but in such a pitiful state, both men felt mixed joy and sorrow, so moved they choked up speechlessly.
Wei Xun first sent Shisan Lang to fetch Qiu Ren, then with trembling hands peeled away the blood-soaked brocade from her body. Fortunately, he found no serious wounds, only scrapes from being dragged, guessing the blood on the fabric belonged to enemies. The deepest wounds were bowstring cuts on her hands, while the most shocking were burns on her face and chest.
He used hot water to dampen a cloth, carefully avoiding injured areas to gently wipe away blood stains, then wrapped her in silk quilts and held her in his arms, unwilling to let go.
Recalling months ago when he accidentally fished her from a tomb to Cuiwei Temple, he had performed the same care and tidying, yet his mood today was completely different. Back then it was purely from compassion, his mind free of distractions. Now seeing her covered in wounds, her life hanging by a thread, he felt as if these injuries were carved into his own flesh, his heart twisting like knives.
When undoing her disheveled hair, Wei Xun discovered a strand of golden hair bound with silk thread hidden inside. His mind immediately recalled the golden-haired barbarian boy in the coffin. Even in her dire state of barely being clothed, Baozhu had still managed to preserve this strand of hair. That barbarian boy must have been someone she trusted deeply to use his corpse to send out a final distress signal. He placed this strand of hair beside her pillow.
Qiu Ren hurried over, took Baozhu’s wrist to check her pulse, and sighed: “To endure such depletion and still hold on—this foundation is heaven’s gift. Fortunately, she was well-nourished in daily life with abundant qi and blood, enabling her to withstand the torment.”
He paused, turning to instruct his junior martial brother: “No need for medicine. Go buy honey, mix it into honey water, add a bit of salt, and force it down her throat. Pour thoroughly and sufficiently. Once she awakens, she can eat rice porridge or soup noodles.” Shisan Lang immediately ran out. After giving medical instructions, Qiu Ren picked up his medicine box and turned to leave.
Wei Xun immediately questioned: “Are your eyes dim? Didn’t you see the burns on her face and arms?”
Qiu Ren responded dismissively: “Just sunburn. When new skin grows out, it will heal naturally.” Canyang Courtyard’s medical practice was always like this—anything that wouldn’t kill was just minor external injury.
He was about to leave when Wei Xun extended his arm to grip a corner of the medicine box. Qiu Ren didn’t dare struggle free. The person had finally been found and brought back. Looking at this young demon’s expression, he seemed to have regained lucidity, but he dared not gamble—after all, there was no cure for madness in the world.
Wei Xun gripped the medicine box without letting go, saying nothing, staring straight at his martial brother.
Qiu Ren had no choice but to say: “The ointment is greasy and smells bad. Once applied, clothes and bedding stick everywhere and can’t be washed clean. If senior brother doesn’t mind the trouble…”
“I don’t mind.” Wei Xun cut off his words without hesitation.
With words already spoken, they couldn’t be taken back. Qiu Ren had to open the medicine box, fish out a small porcelain bottle from the bottom, and reluctantly hand it to Wei Xun. This ointment’s ingredients were rare and costly. For consultation and medicine fees, this young demon wouldn’t pay him a single copper coin.
Wei Xun pulled out the stopper and sniffed at it, frowning: “What is this?”
“Viper oil, with some ground ground beetles added. If I continue describing this formula, it will become nauseating. Just wash your hands clean before applying medicine—dirty hands are worse than not touching at all.”
“Understood. You can leave now.” Having obtained what he wanted, Wei Xun issued an order to leave.
Qiu Ren left the bedroom carrying his medicine box, indignant. Though he had practiced the Prajna Repentance to the fifth level, the pain of financial loss was something even Mafeisan powder could hardly relieve. Coming down from the second floor, he glimpsed Yang Xingjian leaning on his crutch about to go upstairs, and suddenly had an idea.
Yang Xingjian had planned to go up and inquire about Baozhu’s safety. Seeing that fierce bandit’s stout body blocking the stairway, his eyes gleaming strangely, his heart couldn’t help but race. He quickly retreated to a corner, curling into a small ball like a frightened quail.
But Qiu Ren had no intention of letting him go. He cornered him against the wall, chuckled twice, and asked ominously: “I have a rare treasure on me. Would the old gentleman like to take a look?”
With such obvious ill intent, Yang Xingjian dared neither nod nor refuse, only dry-laughing and sweating.
The black-faced man pulled out a rectangular wooden box from his chest. Opening it revealed a ginseng root bound with red string.
“Shangdang ginseng, guaranteed genuine treasure.” Qiu Ren glanced upstairs and hinted: “People with weak constitutions need exactly this thing for nourishment and recovery.”
Yang Xingjian had some understanding and asked quietly: “The divine physician wants to sell it?”
Qiu Ren smiled: “This was ordered by the donkey-riding lady at Rongqing Pharmacy before she disappeared. Now I just need the final payment.” He spread out his fan-like palm and righteously demanded: “Forty-five taels of gold.”
Though this was clearly forced buying and selling, Yang Xingjian understood and dared not refuse even slightly. Not having enough cash, he went back to his room to get promissory notes. He thought breaking wealth could avoid disaster—the princess had suffered torture and was weak, truly needing precious tonics for recovery. This bandit doctor was black-hearted and ruthless, but his medical skills were genuinely excellent. In just over twenty days, his broken leg could already take a few steps.
Qiu Ren collected the gold and promissory notes, making up for his losses, finally satisfied. Out of his extremely limited medical ethics, he instructed: “This ginseng is very potent. Just give her some root tips—absolutely don’t exceed three days.” As for the remaining ginseng, whoever ate it in the future would be unlucky. Qiu Ren left gloating.
Shisan Lang knocked on the grocery shop door at night, bought honey and returned to mix salt-honey water according to Fourth Brother’s medical instructions. Wei Xun fed it to Baozhu bowl by bowl. Only after hearing her thread-like breathing slightly recover and seeing her forehead break into light sweat did he have the mind to tell his two companions about tonight’s events.
Yang Xingjian’s face immediately turned deathly pale. “Prince Qi Li Yu?!”
“She held her breath and personally shot him dead.” Wei Xun’s tone was icy. “That beast must have been the true mastermind behind everything.”
“That’s not the point.” Yang Xingjian couldn’t stand and sat down heavily on a stool, supporting himself on Shisan Lang’s shoulder. So it was this person—no wonder they had nearly turned Luoyang upside down without finding any clues. This might hide an extremely unspeakable matter. Thinking of this, his scalp tingled.
Yang Xingjian’s voice trembled as he said quietly: “Prince Qi is the princess’s own uncle! If he… like Cao Hong violated moral order…”
Wei Xun lowered his head, carefully studying Baozhu’s emaciated face. To maintain rationality, he restrained himself from further wild thoughts. Fortunately, at least she had returned alive.
“In front of her, no one is allowed to mention this matter again.”
After the shock, Yang Xingjian convinced himself to focus on the present. Quickly weighing the situation in his mind, he said: “We must move immediately. After dawn, news of Prince Qi’s murder will spread, and Dou Jing will have to return to his office no matter what to pursue the killer with full force.”
Shisan Lang said worriedly: “But Jiu Niang is very weak now and can’t travel.”
Yang Xingjian decisively said: “First change residences to avoid the limelight. I’ll find Geng Chang to gather information. After the princess awakens, we’ll discuss traveling.” With that, he supported himself with his crutch and limped out to make arrangements.
Wei Xun washed his hands clean, planning to apply medicine to Baozhu. Thinking they would relocate immediately, having her remain naked would truly be undignified. The ointment smelled fishy—if it stained her favorite dresses, it would be difficult to clean, making him hesitate.
Shisan Lang hurriedly said: “I retrieved all the goods she ordered from South Market a few days ago, thinking she’d be happy to see them when she returned. The new clothes she made for us are also finished.” He went downstairs and brought back a brand-new gray monk’s robe.
At the time, thinking Shisan Lang was growing rapidly, she had the tailor cut it loose and comfortable. It was also a front-opening style, convenient for dressing and changing medicine. So Wei Xun applied the ointment and then gently dressed her in the monk’s robe.
Yang Xingjian quickly arranged rental procedures, loading the princess onto an ox cart to live beside a Wuhou Post in the southwest of the city. First, this was where the city’s powerful gathered—even during searches, officials wouldn’t dare be too presumptuous. Second, being next to the Wuhou Post that managed security made it ironically a blind spot for searches.
After Baozhu was out of danger, Wei Xun’s breath that had been forcibly sustained finally dissipated. He collapsed and fell into long, unawakable sleep. The two lived and ate in the same place. When Baozhu slept unconsciously on the couch, Wei Xun lay on the adjacent footstool, even in dreams extending his arm to hold her hand, fearing that if he let go, she would be kidnapped and disappear again.
Yang Xingjian really couldn’t bear to watch and quietly approached to separate them. Shisan Lang saw this and solemnly warned: “When Senior Brother is asleep, absolutely don’t touch him. He’ll violently attack people without holding back. Broken legs can be reset, but bones he crushes can’t be pieced back together even if immortals come.”
Yang Xingjian had to pretend not to see. When first arriving in Luoyang, he had planned to buy two personal maidservants or at least hire a proper woman to care for the princess. Now having caused this great disturbance, one more person meant one more risk of leaked information. He could only reluctantly accept Wei Xun temporarily caring for her.
During the three days they slept side by side, Luoyang nearly turned upside down.
Prince Qi Li Yu, the current emperor’s imperial brother, was assassinated by an assassin with a four-fletched arrow in his own mansion, along with more than twenty attendants. Over three hundred courtesans and slaves from Prince Qi’s mansion fled in the chaos, shocking the Eastern Capital’s nobility.
To appease imperial relatives, Prefect Dou Jing immediately stationed troops at the prince’s mansion, pursuing the assassin with full force and searching for escaped slaves. However, the escapees scattered like startled birds and fish—there were simply too many. The assassin’s traces were even harder to find. Prefect Dou was overwhelmed by this thorny situation, unable to handle everything.
These slaves fleeing to the civilian population brought out shocking news: it turned out the beautiful youths who played Guanyin in annual patrol activities had all been kidnapped by Prince Qi’s people—there was no “ascension to immortality” at all. The beloved Guanyin slaves worshipped by the people had been wantonly abused and killed by him, with none surviving.
Meanwhile, people in the martial world guessed who had the audacity to assassinate a prince. This year’s Guanyin slave wasn’t an ordinary, defenseless civilian, but a master archer skilled in riding and shooting. This mysterious woman commanded a group of unrestrained madmen with no family burdens. When such people collided with top-tier nobility like Prince Qi, the outcome was destined to be a life-or-death struggle.
Though many guessed the perpetrator was the donkey-riding lady, she dared kill even the emperor’s brother—if anyone informed the authorities, how could Canyang Courtyard let it slide?
The Blue-Robed Guest Wei Xun single-handedly challenged White Camel Temple’s three elders. Li Yu’s accomplice “Ferry Boat” Cao Hong was disgraced, and the Luoqing Gang that had cultivated in the Eastern Capital for decades crumbled. Other martial sects naturally had to carefully weigh their strength and whether they had the courage to provoke her bad luck.
Three days later, Baozhu awakened in a daze, as if struggling free from a long, terrifying nightmare. She asked about Shisan Lang, and after seeing him safe with her own eyes, lay on the couch lost in thought for a long time.
Yang Xingjian, hearing the princess had awakened, hurried to pay respects. He saw that after applying Qiu Ren’s ointment, she recovered quickly—the redness, swelling, and blisters had subsided. Only her originally lustrous, jade-smooth skin had now completely shed a layer, mottled and peeling with scars everywhere, causing great heartache.
Remembering Wei Xun’s warning, he dared not mention her kidnapping period. After simple greetings, he suggested leaving Luoyang immediately.
“Now Dou Jing is searching the entire city for assassins. This place can’t be stayed in long—every moment more brings more danger.”
Who knew Baozhu would refuse without hesitation: “No. The chief culprit is eliminated, but accomplices remain. Without fully retaliating against all those people in Prince Qi’s mansion, I won’t leave Luoyang even one step.”
Hearing her tone was firm and unshakeable, everyone fell silent for a moment. Wei Xun said quietly: “You rest. Let me find two people to stand guard—I’ll go back again tonight.” He paused and added: “Dig out all their eyes.”
He dared not ask what happened to her, only deeply remembering her overwhelming hatred when she gouged out Li Yu’s eyes, feeling this was extremely important.
Baozhu remained silent for a while, then shook her head: “You don’t need to this time.” She raised her head, glanced at Yang Xingjian, and commanded in a hoarse voice: “It’s time for the registrar to act.”
Yang Xingjian looked confused, pointing at himself: “Me?”
Baozhu slowly nodded.
Yang Xingjian felt somewhat embarrassed and smiled apologetically: “Princess, this old minister now has a broken leg. Moreover, even if all limbs were intact, I couldn’t defeat the prince’s mansion gatekeepers.”
“I’m not asking you to do that. Bring out pen and ink.” Baozhu said word by word, “I want collective punishment.”
Author’s Notes: Reminder: For any burns or scalds, don’t apply random substances—go see a doctor.