The fire blazed fiercely, thick smoke billowing. From the intensity of the flames, the entire inn was barely recognizable. People screamed and howled within the inferno, their cries heart-wrenching and hysterical.
Yao Ying thought of Xie Qing and the other guards left at the inn. She felt dizzy, cold sweat seeping through her back.
As the night wind blew, her body trembled slightly.
A voice spoke near her ear: “The people from the inn have left the city. The fire was set as a warning to us—there’s been a night raid.”
The voice was cool and detached, yet had a calming steadiness about it.
Yao Ying’s heart suddenly loosened, and she exhaled slowly. She trusted Su Dangu; though he spoke little when he did say something, he was usually seventy to eighty percent certain.
He must have had some predetermined signal with the guards.
Yao Ying gradually came to her senses. “Were the night raiders targeting us? Did Yuchi Damo leak information?”
Su Dangu shook his head.
A flash of insight struck Yao Ying. “They were after Jin Bo! Could Haidu Aling already be in Gaochang?”
Yuchi Damo only knew they were envoys sent by Dharmārāga, not their true identities. He was a smooth operator who knew when to bend, sending diplomatic letters to the royal court annually with humble words. He wouldn’t offend Dharmārāga without reason, at least not by killing them before their secret meeting. The Night Raiders must have had a different mastermind.
Yao Ying could only think of Haidu Aling.
Su Dangu said, “Not necessarily by his hand.”
Yao Ying nodded, thinking of Jin Bo’s arrogant and conspicuous guards. A thought quickly arose: “Perhaps when Jin Bo set out, Haidu Aling had already placed assassins among his retinue. Once Jin Bo reached Gaochang, the assassins would strike immediately. With Haidu Aling still in the Northern Rong territories, he could clear himself of suspicion and frame Yuchi Damo.”
Khan Wakhan valued the wolf tribe’s honor and wouldn’t strike from behind, but Haidu Aling had no such scruples. Besides, Jin Bo and the others had tried several times to trap and kill him—if not for his superior martial prowess, he would have died at his brothers’ hands long ago.
A flash of horror crossed Yao Ying’s eyes as she murmured, “What if Haidu Aling placed assassins beside each prince…”
While the princes secretly sought allies to eliminate Haidu Aling behind Khan Wakhan’s back, Haidu Aling turned their plan against them, staying in Northern Rong while secretly dispatching assassins to infiltrate the princes’ retinues.
This way, he could eliminate his opponents without detection and use these incidents to force people like Yuchi Damo to ally with him. By the time Khan Wakhan realized what was happening, it would be too late to save the situation.
The more Yao Ying thought about it, the more alarmed she became.
Haidu Aling was ambitious. Once he replaced Wakhan as the new Khan of the Northern Rong, he would surely lead his army to conquer the Central Plains. She hoped Xie Qing remembered her instructions and had saved Jin Bo. Though Jin Bo was dim-witted, he was still Wakhan’s son and might prove useful.
Su Dangu turned the horse around, leading Yao Ying through empty alleyways. His reactions were quick, always managing to avoid the patrol guards.
The sound of burning continued unabated from the direction of the inn. The fierce flames lit up half the sky, casting a dark red glow on the snow covering the walls and roof tiles. Yao Ying could almost feel the blazing flames, her cheeks burning hot.
While worried about Xie Qing’s safety and pondering what other schemes Haidu Aling might have planned, she became absent-minded. She didn’t know how much time had passed when the horse’s hooves suddenly stopped.
They had stopped before a secluded residence with two lanterns hanging at the entrance.
In the flickering shadows beneath the lights stood a person who quickly came forward at the sound of hoofbeats—one of the guards who had stayed behind at the inn.
The guard first bowed respectfully, then spoke quietly in Sanskrit.
Su Dangu grunted in acknowledgment and dismounted first.
Yao Ying had been sharing the horse with him. When he moved, she suddenly lost her support and swayed, beginning to fall.
The guard’s mouth fell open.
Yao Ying felt dizzy and weak all over. She tried to steady herself but was already falling. In her hazy mind, she thought: With all this thick snow on the ground, the fall shouldn’t hurt too much, right?
Suddenly her arm tightened as a pair of gloved hands firmly gripped her shoulders, stopping her descent.
Yao Ying felt Su Dangu’s lean, strong fingers holding her shoulders, his chin resting on top of her head, his body carrying that cool medicinal scent.
The next moment, she fell into his embrace.
Su Dangu thought she had merely slipped again. He steadied her and was about to withdraw his arms from her shoulders when she pitched forward again, her delicate body falling completely against him. She struggled to get up but was powerless, soft as if boneless.
Su Dangu’s brows furrowed slightly as he looked down at Yao Ying, meeting her reddened eyes.
Her cheeks were flushed, her gaze misty, her shoulders trembling slightly—like a rain-touched pear blossom, a sight to stir compassion.
The guard stared at Yao Ying, dumbfounded: “Regent… Princess Wenhzao, she…”
Su Dangu lifted Yao Ying in his arms and turned to enter the courtyard.
“She’s ill.”
He had thought this was another test.
The guard froze for a moment as Su Dangu hurriedly carried Yao Ying inside. The guard quickly came to his senses, led the horse through the entrance, closed the door, and followed into the main house. After some thought, he didn’t enter the inner chamber but stood waiting outside the screen.
Su Dangu strode into the southern inner chamber, set Yao Ying down, and lowered his gaze as he gently pulled back her sleeve, placing his fingers on her exposed snow-white wrist.
Yao Ying’s body alternated between hot and cold, shivering slightly.
Su Dangu observed the fine beads of sweat on her forehead, withdrew his fingers, stood up, and walked around the screen to the outer room to ask the guard: “Has everyone left the city?”
The guard clasped his hands and replied: “Yes, Regent. Earlier at the inn, Prince Jin Bo’s guards and dancing girls suddenly tried to assassinate the young prince. Following the General’s instructions, the captain protected the prince and escaped. Fearing more assassins in the city, they left first. Only I and Alanruo remained here awaiting the Regent’s return.”
…
Before entering the city, Su Dangu had instructed that if anything went wrong, everyone should withdraw from Gaochang’s royal city. If the city was sealed and they had nowhere to go, they could rendezvous at this courtyard. Alanruo was the person watching over this residence.
After Su Dangu’s group had left that night, the dancing girls in the inn’s hall suddenly flung out their arms, sliding gleaming daggers from their sleeves and lunging at the drunken Jin Bo. Jin Bo’s guards reacted, drawing their swords to meet the attack. Blood immediately sprayed as blade light filled the hall. The foreign merchants watching the performance fled in terror, screaming, shouting, cursing, and yelling in chaos.
Just as Jin Bo was about to die under the dancing girls’ blades, Xie Qing immediately drew his sword and rushed forward, saving Jin Bo while Xie Chong and other guards helped subdue the dancing girls.
Jin Bo had nearly been killed, and though still drunk, was shaken. He clutched Xie Qing’s hand, shouting, “Thank you, brave warrior, for saving me!”
Xie Qing shook off Jin Bo’s hand with a stern face while several guards laughed.
At that moment, another crisis erupted—Jin Bo’s guard suddenly swung his blade at his master!
Everyone stared in shock as several more Northern Rong guards suddenly attacked, taking advantage of the confusion to cut down their companions. Severed heads rolled across the floor.
Jin Bo took a slash, blood gushing forth. Now completely sobered by fear, he began wailing loudly.
Just then, the sound of hoofbeats and bowstrings came from outside the inn.
The foreign merchants had already scattered and fled.
Xie Qing’s group exchanged glances, suspecting that all of Jin Bo’s guards might have betrayed him and that they had reinforcements. The inn was no longer safe. Without further hesitation, they grabbed Jin Bo and rushed out.
A guard stayed behind to warn the royal court’s people. After they escaped the city, he set fire to the inn to alert Su Dangu’s group, preventing them from walking into a trap upon their return.
…
Only one oil lamp was lit in the main house, its dim light making the pattern on the screen indiscernible.
After listening to the guard’s brief account of the night’s events, Su Dangu asked, “Are there any serving maids in the residence?”
The guard was startled, then shook his head, saying, “This courtyard has been watched only by Alanruo. Besides him, there are just a few horses and two camels, no one else.”
Su Dangu was silent for a moment. “Bring some hot water.”
Then he turned and walked around the screen into the inner chamber.
The guard froze, then understood: Princess Wenzhao was ill and needed care, but her people had just fled the city in the chaos, which was why the Regent had asked about serving maids.
He went to ask Alanruo for a pot of hot water and brought it to the main house.
“Regent… I just asked Alanruo. The fire at the inn has been extinguished. We don’t know the situation at the palace, but guards just went door to door issuing warnings. The city is now under martial law—anyone found moving about will be arrested and imprisoned.”
This meant Li Yao Ying had to endure through the night. In the dead of night, forget about going out to find a doctor or maid—even the sound of a door lock might bring guards running.
Su Dangu grunted in acknowledgment, taking the copper pot: “Find some clean clothes.”
The guard said: “Regent, there are clothes prepared in the residence, but they’re all men’s clothing.”
Su Dangu had already turned to enter the inner chamber, his hoarse voice carrying through the screen: “Bring them.”
The guard complied, gathering some change of clothes, clean bedding, and towels, boiled several large pots of hot water, and carried them with Alanruo to the main house and into the inner chamber.
Behind the screen, a tiny lamp flame flickered gently.
Su Dangu stood by the bed, his figure lean and straight. The bed curtains were drawn tight, obscuring Princess Wenzhao’s condition, though one could faintly make out the delicate figure of the woman on the bed, her weak breathing coming in fits and starts.
Alanruo couldn’t help but glance up at the bed, and a cold gaze swept over him.
Su Dangu gave him a look.
As if doused with a bucket of snow water, Alanruo felt a chill run through him. He quickly lowered his head and retreated with the guard.
The door closed from outside.
Inside, Su Dangu turned to face the bed and raised the curtains.
The dim light fell on the bed where Yao Ying lay on her side, arms wrapped tightly around herself, curled into a small ball. Her collar was disheveled, revealing a glimpse of snow-white skin. Her innermost garments were soaked with sweat, showing the pale skin beneath. Her hair was also damp with sweat, strands clinging to her cheeks with a wet sheen.
In her hazy state, she sensed the light and opened her eyes, her thick lashes trembling as she said weakly, “I’m sorry to trouble General Su… It’s just my old ailment acting up, nothing serious.”
Even now, her voice remained gentle and composed, dignified and calm.
“Did the Princess forget to take her medicine?”
Su Dangu asked.
Yao Ying shook her head on the pillow, “It’s not time yet… I counted…”
Born with a weak constitution, she took Ninglu Pills monthly. She clearly remembered the last time she took the medicine—on the way to Gaochang, only ten days ago. She had been feeling dizzy and feverish all evening but thought it was just guilt over their deception. She hadn’t expected her old illness to flare up.
Su Dangu continued, “Does the Princess have any medicine with her?”
Yao Ying clutched her arms tightly, her body trembling slightly, saying nothing.
Su Dangu sat down by the bed and said, “The Princess is always cautious, surely you brought medicine with you.”
Yao Ying remained silent.
Su Dangu asked, “Is the Princess worried there’s no one to watch over you while the medicine takes effect?”
Yao Ying’s heart quivered. She raised her eyes to look at Su Dangu.
Their eyes met. His deep eyes were calm as if looking down at her from the clouds, seeming to see through all her thoughts.
A faint smile bloomed on Yao Ying’s pale face as she said softly, “It’s fine, I just need to sleep… I’ll be fine after getting through tonight.”
Su Dangu looked down at her: “I have some medical knowledge. The Princess need not conceal it.”
Yao Ying froze.
Su Dangu said calmly, “Though men and women should maintain proper distance, to me, the Princess is just a patient. I am a Buddhist disciple and can look after the Princess. There’s no need to struggle with this decision. Please take your medicine.”
His tone was cool, each word falling from his lips like a spring flowing over stones, clear and cold.
There was a subtle pressure, gentle yet carrying immense weight, making it hard to breathe.
Yao Ying felt terrible all over, her eyes stinging. She gripped her arms tightly and gave a soft sound of assent.
Su Dangu asked, “Where is the medicine?”
Yao Ying released her grip and tremblingly searched herself for a moment, finding a small jade bottle.
Su Dangu took the bottle from her fingers, poured out a pill, lifted her chin with his fingers, and helped her take it.
As the medicine entered her stomach, Yao Ying’s body gradually grew hot.
She was soaked through and needed to change into dry clothes. She struggled to rise: “General, please help me up…”
Su Dangu helped her up and supported her to the wooden tub, letting her lean steadily against it before turning and withdrawing.
After a few footsteps, he stopped at the door, standing straight with his back to the screen.
Unable to see outside, Yao Ying set aside her embarrassment, removed her clothes, and with effort wrung out a towel to wipe herself down.
The room had a charcoal fire burning. She felt dizzy and light-headed, her body limp—just the effort of wiping herself left her breathless. With Xie Qing absent and Su Dangu being a man… She bit her tongue, forcing herself to stay alert as she hurriedly changed into the clothes draped over the nearby screen and turned to walk back.
Taking one step, her feet gave way and she collapsed to the ground.
At a heavy thud, Su Dangu by the door whirled around, pausing at the screen: “Princess?”
Yao Ying lay on the floor, her whole body aching. She gritted her teeth, trying to stand by herself. Her palm had barely touched the ground when everything started spinning, nausea rising in her stomach. With no choice, she gave a soft acknowledgment.
Footsteps sounded light as the shadow on the screen moved, a pair of black leather boots approaching her step by step.
Su Dangu bent down to lift Yao Ying and carried her to the bed.
Exhausted and aching all over, Yao Ying whispered her thanks. Her head had barely touched the pillow when her eyes closed, lashes trembling lightly.
Su Dangu set her down, his gaze sweeping briefly over her disheveled collar before pulling up the covers over her. He took her hand, gently pushed up her sleeve, and checked her pulse.
Having taken the medicine, her pulse was somewhat steadier, though she still had to get through tonight as the medicine took effect.
For someone like her who had taken medicine for years, during the medicine’s effect she would alternate between hot and cold, needing bed rest until the medicine’s properties dispersed.
Su Dangu released Yao Ying’s hand.
Her palm was burning hot and slightly damp with sweat, but her fingers were ice cold, the joints like spring onion roots, soft and delicate, each one like jade.
Su Dangu paused, then placed Yao Ying’s hand back under the covers, pulled up the brocade quilt, and tucked in the corners to prevent drafts.
He stood and lowered the bed curtains.
There were knocks at the door as the guard brought two bowls of steaming vegetable soup with flatbread, saying, “Regent, the residence only has some medicine for injuries, no other medicinal herbs.”
As he spoke, he tried to peek inside on tiptoe.
The screen blocked everything from view.
After a long silence, the guard said with frustration, “Regent… I’ve never heard of the Princess being ill… not even once…”
Since Princess Wenzhao had arrived at the royal court, he had been responsible for her protection, following her from palace to temple. The Princess had always been vibrant and beautiful. Only these past two days had she seemed somewhat haggard, but he had assumed she was just tired. He hadn’t realized she was ill.
Su Dangu took the soup and bread without a word.
Of course, the royal court guards wouldn’t know about Li Yao Ying’s illness—even her guards didn’t know.
The only person who might know she needed monthly medicine was probably Xie Qing.
Beauty and fragility could win love and pity, but not respect and awe.
In this land far from the Central Plains, the title of Great Wei Princess was like a mirage that would eventually lose its ethereal glow. If Li Yao Ying showed weakness and timidity, even a mere guard might betray her without hesitation.
So she dared not show weakness.
She had to remain forever calm and rational, forever determined, forever clear in her goals. Only thus could she truly command her subordinates and earn their loyalty.
Now, her guards and that newly formed merchant group were all loyal to her, Li Yao Ying, not to the Princess of Wei.
She had come step by step, enduring countless hardships.