What rushed toward them was several hundred wild wolves, splitting rapidly into two columns, scrambling nimbly up both hillsides, charging to strike down from above.

Every wolf was running now, charging straight at them—they had gone entirely mad, casting aside all thought of life or death, no longer holding back out of caution.

Their headlong charge only added momentum, lending greater force to their killing strike!

And yet, facing this overwhelming, mountain-toppling assault head-on, Jun Beiyue’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. His fiery red riding garb, already torn to shreds by claws, hung in tatters; the wound on his shoulder blade, bone nearly showing, bled without pause, and Ziqing, slung across that very shoulder, had her stomach pressed right against the wound, already soaked through with warm blood.

She hung upside down against his back, unable to see anything at all, hearing only the thunder of the charging wolf pack—terrifying, deafening, like a pride of lions storming across open plains, shaking heaven and earth.

The wolves drew closer and closer, on the very verge of pouncing—and it was exactly then that Jun Beiyue suddenly sheathed his sword in one swift motion!

Ziqing’s heart lurched—what was he doing?

The sword was his weapon!

To her shock, Jun Beiyue pressed one hand against the hilt at his waist, the other still wrapped tight around Ziqing, and his tall, powerfully built frame suddenly dropped into a low running stance!

This—this was a runner’s crouch!

He meant to… before Ziqing could even process the thought, she felt her whole body pitch forward, hurtling ahead at tremendous speed—the tension from the sheer velocity nearly tore her apart.

Jun Beiyue was running, sprinting like a cheetah at full speed—swift as an arrow, fierce as the wind, cutting through like splitting bamboo, charging straight ahead, giving the wolf pack no chance to strike at all, forcing a path by sheer brute force straight through the dense mass of wolves.

Dozens of wolves leapt down from the hillsides all at once; wolves ahead trampled over the corpses of their own packmates to launch themselves into the air, lunging at him from the front!

He simply charged forward, and even if a mountain itself blocked his way, he absolutely would not stop.

Wolf after wolf, throwing themselves forward one after another, were all sent flying by Jun Beiyue’s brutal force!

For a moment, it looked like nothing so much as a sharp arrow streaking down the length of the narrow ravine, wolf carcasses flying off to either side without pause—what a magnificent sight!

By the time everything came to an abrupt halt at the cliff’s edge, Ziqing was already dizzy and disoriented, with only one thought left in her mind: this man, Jun Beiyue, was absolutely, without question, insane.

He stopped dead in his tracks, mere inches from a bottomless abyss at his feet.

To reach such speed over such a short distance, with no running start at all—was this man actually part leopard? His explosive power was terrifying.

Drenched in blood and soaked in sweat from head to toe, he stood tall and unyielding with her on his shoulder, his breathing not even ragged. He turned to face the wolf pack, now themselves frozen in shock, his deep eyes as coldly forbidding as ever, the corner of his cool lips curling into a wild, contemptuous smile, radiating pure masculine ferocity.

This kind of battle was bound to set the blood on fire, bound to make one forget life and death entirely—not even beasts were exempt from that.

Wolf after wolf bared its fangs, their green eyes flushing scarlet, and without warning launched into a coordinated pack charge!

They wanted to keep fighting this man—no longer for vengeance, but simply for the sake of the fight itself.

To everyone’s surprise, Jun Beiyue didn’t move at all—truly didn’t move—only the corner of his mouth curved into a coldly contemptuous smile.

Dozens of wolves leapt into the air at once, charging straight at him, claws mere inches from his face—

And it was exactly then that Jun Beiyue suddenly pulled Ziqing tight against him and, in one sharp motion, leaned back in a perfect ninety-degree arc—dozens of wolves sailed straight past where he’d been standing, plunging directly into the abyss, their anguished cries echoing through the entire valley at once!

The wild wolves weren’t so easily beaten, though—seeing him bend backward, two of the fastest wolves immediately lunged with bared fangs straight at his legs on either side!

But at that very instant, Jun Beiyue summoned every ounce of strength in his legs and kicked out with both at once, sending the two wolves flying—and he and Ziqing launched into the air, falling in a straight plunge downward.

This cliff face was sheer, nearly a straight drop; the abyss below was so deep it swallowed all light. The wolves had no way to follow, left only to watch helplessly as Jun Beiyue and Ziqing fell, howling up at the moon without pause.

Falling straight down wasn’t a pleasant sensation, especially head-first—Ziqing shut her eyes, feeling as though all the blood in her skull was rushing to burst.

And Jun Beiyue, facing upward, limbs splayed, his long black hair whipping wildly in the howling wind rushing past, wore a smile of cold, reckless delight on his lips—he seemed to be genuinely enjoying this flight.

At last, when Ziqing’s fingers clawed desperately at his waist, he grabbed her legs and pulled her hard into his arms.

And in that same instant, he suddenly gathered his strength and sprang, his legs finding purchase against the cliff face—not launching straight up, but angling into a downward dive instead.

Falling versus diving under one’s own control—that was, without question, the difference between life and death.

This abyss was terrifyingly deep; it was a long while later, when Jun Beiyue finally landed on the ground with Ziqing still in his arms, that the sky had already brightened fully. Ziqing discovered that the bottom of the ravine was a riverbed strewn with jagged rocks, with only a small trickling stream flowing onward into a dense forest ahead.

Not far off, the broken carcasses of several wild wolves stood as proof of just how terrifying that fall had been.

Even now, having landed, Jun Beiyue showed no sign of releasing Ziqing—he didn’t even pause to catch his breath, his cold eyes fixed ahead as he said flatly, “We need to be back before nightfall. There are spies within Great Zhou—there’s bound to be military action at the western border.”

The first attackers had been wild wolves from Western Jing, wolves among wolf-kings—the capital was far from Western Jing’s ravines, which meant this pack had unmistakably been brought here by the assassins themselves.

And Emperor Tianhui’s archer honor guard had somehow failed to be stationed nearby at all—in other words, this had been an assassination orchestrated from both within and without.

Ziqing understood perfectly well: this coordinated assassination attempt, though it appeared aimed at Emperor Tianhui, had actually been aimed at Jun Beiyue all along!

If Jun Beiyue died, then whether it was the northern frontier or the western border, the moment either raised arms, Great Zhou would be doomed to defeat.

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at his mangled, bloodied shoulder blade, and said flatly, “If you don’t stop that bleeding soon, forget about making it back to the capital—you won’t even make it out of this ravine.”

This man had no fewer wounds, large and small, across his body than she did. Like her, no matter how badly he was hurt, he simply pushed through as if nothing were wrong—but once he finally collapsed, he’d never be getting back up again.

Only then did Jun Beiyue turn to look at his own shoulder. He set Ziqing down on a large rock, tore off a strip of cloth, and held it out to her. “Do it.”

Ziqing didn’t take it right away. Jun Beiyue frowned—was this woman really going to keep up her pretenses even now?

To his surprise, Ziqing instead ripped away half of his torn garment, exposing his bronzed, powerfully built frame, the wound on his shoulder now laid entirely bare.

It was a wound the size of a palm, skin and flesh torn away together—forget touching it, even a light brush against it would hurt terribly. Yet Jun Beiyue’s expression didn’t change at all, watching Ziqing with something like amusement.

He knew this woman wouldn’t keep up her act any longer.

“Sit down,” Ziqing said flatly, only then taking the strip of cloth from him.

Once he sat, Ziqing wound the cloth tightly around his shoulder several times, then tore a strip from her own clothing to bind it tight, her movements practiced and efficient—lacking only in gentleness.

Once the bleeding was stanched, Ziqing said flatly, “Your Highness, you should go on ahead. I can’t walk, and I won’t hold up your time.”

“Your leg will be permanently crippled if you keep delaying like this!” Jun Beiyue said, and with overbearing insistence scooped her up, ready to leave at once—the blood-sweating horse must still be somewhere in the mountains, and once out of the ravine, getting back to the capital wouldn’t be difficult.

Ziqing didn’t resist—instead, her whole body suddenly went rigid, her small face turning grave, and a moment later Jun Beiyue’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt as well. There was a sound behind them—the kind of sound that told you exactly what was coming, the instant you heard it.

Absolutely terrifying.