She was Forty-three. Like others here, she had no name. She remembered nothing before coming here, except for the pear blossoms blocking the carriage path and fields of shepherd’s purse flowers. That was her entire childhood memory.
Then came the training to become an assassin. The perfect result of such training was to erase human nature and fear of death, leaving only a dog’s loyalty.
Years later, she wondered if she had damaged her brain with drugs then. How else could she have fallen so devotedly for that bastard?
Compared to other assassins, she was unqualified. She feared death, so to survive, she didn’t mind learning to be a dog.
When Forty-three entered, over ten young women with black veils stood in the hall. She walked straight through them, kneeling before the bead curtain separating the inner and outer rooms, eyes fixed a foot in front of her knees.
“Master.”
“Kun Seventeen is ill. You will take her place,” came a voice from inside, deliberately ambiguous in gender.
“Yes,” Forty-three replied without hesitation, though unaware of her assigned task.
“Good. Come in,” the person said.
Forty-three dared not stand, so she bent down, hands on the ground, crawling in on her knees. As soon as she passed through the swaying bead curtain, she stopped.
A pair of blue satin boots with subtle embroidery appeared silently in her view. A faint, elegant incense wafted to her nose, suddenly chilling her heart. Before she could understand why, the other person’s palm pressed on her head. Her face changed briefly, then returned to normal, resigned to closing her eyes as a powerful internal force entered through her crown, instantly destroying the martial arts she had practiced for over a decade.
Fresh blood spilled from her mouth as she collapsed, pale-faced, to the ground.
“You don’t ask why I destroyed your martial arts?” The person seemed curious at her silence.
With the sweet, metallic taste still in her throat, Forty-three coughed once before replying submissively, “Yes.” Her voice betrayed no resentment. Since entering the hidden facility, the first thing they learned was to say “yes.”
Remembering this, the person smiled and waved a hand. “You may all leave.”
“Yes.”
As Forty-three retreated through the bead curtain, everyone else had already left. She struggled to her feet but dared not turn around, backing out while facing the curtain. Just as she crossed the threshold, a sudden cough from inside startled her, nearly causing her to fall. Fortunately, the person inside hadn’t noticed.
The manager waited for her outside, handing her a purple silk pouch without unnecessary words before arranging for her to board a waiting carriage.
Forty-three knew the pouch contained her mission.
Meilin… Meilin, is it?
She rested her forehead against the window frame, listening to the laughter of the women in the carriage. A feeling of excitement or perhaps melancholy rose in her heart. From now on, she would be called by this name. Forty-three, the number that had followed her for fifteen years, would be forever buried in that place she didn’t even want to remember.
From now on, she had a name, an identity, and even a family she had never met. She replaced another woman.
Among the three hundred beauties accompanying Princess Zigu from Western Yan to Great Yan for a political marriage, she wasn’t the only one substituted. Those women with names starting with “Kun” were specifically trained for this purpose. She had merely picked up an opportunity. Perhaps, after nearly five years of deception, the manager had finally grown impatient and decided to dispose of her this way.
It was fine. She could finally leave that place of decay and death, to see the vibrant flowers etched in her memory. Even without martial arts, even with poison in her body that would act up monthly, it was far better than constantly fighting for survival.
Autumn had arrived. The forests along the official road were lush green, with deep reds and pale yellows interspersed, as brilliant as spring flowers. But they weren’t spring flowers. Up close, as they swept past the carriage window, one could see withered yellow leaves fluttering down in the wind, giving a sense of desolate loneliness.
Meilin disliked this, so she withdrew her gaze, smiling as she listened to her fellow passengers’ conversation.
Two days ago, she had been sent to Anyang, two hundred li from Zhaojing. At that time, the Western Yan entourage was resting at the local courier station. The next day, when they set out, two carriages for the beauties broke down due to the long journey. The women from those carriages had to be distributed among the others.
This was how Meilin came to sit in her current carriage. After two days together, she finally understood why no one questioned her identity.
The journey was tiring, and rules limited interaction. These beauties rarely had chances to talk after leaving their carriages. When they did, it was only with those sharing their carriage. Thus, they were unfamiliar with those in other carriages, let alone the guards who could hardly see the beauties’ faces. Of course, this wouldn’t have been so easy without the cooperation of Western Yan’s higher-ups.
But these weren’t matters for her to ponder. It was best not to think about them; knowing too much brought no benefit. She had more pressing issues to resolve.
The Western Yan language.
The women spoke softly, gently, and melodiously, like singing. It was truly pleasant to hear, but unfortunately, she couldn’t understand what they were saying. How ridiculous it would be for someone from Western Yan to not understand the Yan language.
Every detail of the entire operation had been meticulously planned. Why was this loophole left? She couldn’t understand but had to carefully navigate the situation.
As she was deep in thought, she felt warmth near her ear as someone whispered to her. Meilin suppressed her reflexive urge to pull away and turned to find the most beautiful and gentle of the five girls looking at her with concern.
She immediately smiled, her mind racing to find a response. Just then, the already slow-moving carriage suddenly stopped, distracting the girl beside her.
Meilin secretly sighed in relief and joined the others in looking out the window.
Their carriage was in the middle of the procession, and they couldn’t lean out, so they couldn’t see anything. They could only hear rapid hoofbeats approaching from afar, then stopping at the front of the line. Undoubtedly, they had been stopped by the head guard.
As the women speculated curiously about what was happening, hoofbeats sounded again, mixed with shouts. This time, it was their guards ordering people to dismount from carriage to carriage.
It turned out that due to delays on the road, the wedding party was nearly a month late in arriving at Zhaojing, coinciding with Great Yan’s annual autumn hunt. The hunting grounds were at Deer Mountain, three hundred li southwest of Zhaojing, and they needed to pass through this road. By chance, the two groups had met head-on.
By the time they got out of the carriage, the carriages in front had already been moved to the roadside. The princess’s carriage, escorted by the head guard, had left the procession, speeding towards the distant group with fluttering banners and gleaming armor.
After about the time it takes to burn an incense stick, an eunuch came to relay an imperial edict: the wedding party was to accompany the imperial procession to Deer Mountain.
Everyone knelt by the roadside, rising only after the Great Yan Emperor, clad in military attire and riding a horse, had passed by with his sons, grandsons, and civil and military officials in a grand procession. They then returned to their carriages to follow.
Perhaps intimidated by the solemn and intense atmosphere, the girls didn’t dare to talk after boarding the carriage. Meilin secretly counted her blessings but knew such luck wouldn’t last. If she didn’t come up with a strategy soon, she would likely be exposed.
Traveling a hundred li a day, they reached the foot of Deer Mountain two days later. By then, the Ministry of War had already set up a camp in a flat area, erected tent palaces surrounded by yellow-lacquered wooden walls, established banner gates, and covered them with yellow awnings. Outside, a net enclosure was set up with people taking turns to guard against intruders.
Except for the princess and her maids, the rest of the wedding party was arranged to stay in the outer camp, and were not allowed to leave without permission. The beauties all had a vague premonition that their fate might be decided here. Although they had been prepared for this since being selected to accompany Princess Zigu, when the moment arrived, they still felt panic and unease.
The five girls sharing a tent with Meilin were the same. Gone was their previous liveliness and laughter; their delicate brows were furrowed unconsciously, a thin layer of melancholy making them appear pensive.
Meilin, not particularly concerned about this, was busy counting the days until she could get the antidote next month and worrying about what kind of intelligence she should exchange for a more effective antidote. So far, the only thing she felt fortunate about was that since following the imperial procession, the girls had started speaking in the Great Yan language, their fluency even surpassing hers, a native speaker who rarely spoke.
The next morning, as dawn broke, the sound of resounding horns echoed across the plains. Thunderous hoofbeats, mixed with human shouts, woke the girls who were still tired from days of travel. They looked at each other in confusion and fear, like small animals about to be mercilessly hunted in the forest.
Time passed slowly in the agonizing wait for fate, and night finally fell with the return of the hunters. Bonfires were lit in the spacious camp, and freshly caught game was placed over the flames. Laughter and cheerful voices carried through the gaps between tents, allowing one to imagine the lively scene.
Just as the women were restless but afraid to sleep, the summons they had been waiting for finally arrived. However, contrary to expectations, they were not asked to perform the songs and dances they had prepared so diligently. The spacious area illuminated by firelight, with scattered flower petals and marks from sharp weapons, indicated that exciting entertainment had already taken place.
Three hundred beautiful young women were arranged in ten rows of thirty, standing neatly and orderly in the center of the open space, waiting for the selection by princes and ministers.
Meilin stood at the very back, slightly tilting her body to the right to see the Great Yan Emperor seated in the highest position.
Perhaps he had once been young, strong, and spirited. Perhaps he was still wise, imposing, and decisive. But what she saw was only a thin, sickly middle-aged man. His eyes were long and narrow with a hint of charm, but the dark circles beneath them ruined what should have been a look of wisdom, giving an uncomfortable feeling.
To his left sat men in their twenties and thirties, dressed in military attire. They were either princes and nobles or young generals, the core strength of this hunting activity. To his right, the beautiful Princess Zigu sat with her face veiled, head lowered, not once looking up at their arrival. Those on the same side as her were mostly dressed as scholars.
Meilin took in the entire scene at a glance, then lowered her eyes, no longer looking around. She heard the emperor’s voice, somewhat weak but not lacking in authority.
“Today in the hunt, Xuanlie, you took first place. I allow you to choose first.”
At these words, the man seated in the highest position on the left quickly stood to thank the emperor, but he didn’t immediately turn to select. Instead, he smiled and said, “The princess has just arrived in Great Yan and must be unaccustomed to things. Father Emperor, why not first select a few suitable women for the princess to comfort her?”
His words were smooth, seemingly considerate of the guest, but in reality, he was letting the emperor pick the women he fancied first. After all, the princess would eventually enter the palace, so the emperor could have access to her attendants whenever he wished.
The emperor was naturally delighted with his son’s thoughtfulness and said, “You are indeed considerate.”
He then turned to Princess Zigu and asked in a gentle tone, “Xuanlie is right. Zigu, why don’t you choose a few to serve by your side?”
Hearing this, Princess Zigu, who had been keeping her eyes lowered, finally looked up. She glanced at Murong Xuanlie, then bowed to the emperor and said flatly, “I defer to Your Majesty’s decision.” Born into a royal family, how could she not understand what these men were thinking?
So the old emperor’s dragon eyes swept over the group, ready to select a few women. In that instant, Meilin saw his previously cloudy old eyes flash with a bright light. A cold sweat broke out on her back, and she secretly felt relieved to be standing at the end. After all, once one entered the imperial palace, it was no easy task to leave.
Next, starting with Murong Xuanlie, each man present was allocated two to three women. No one was tactless enough to pick and choose in front of the emperor, especially since all the Yan women who had come as part of the dowry were beauties chosen from among thousands.
Nearly a hundred young women remained in the arena. Emperor Murong instructed his attendants to count them, intending to bring them back to the capital as rewards for high-ranking officials who couldn’t attend the hunt. Mei Lin was among them. As she observed the girls—some genuinely happy, others forcing smiles, all with their fates sealed—she felt momentarily lost, wondering what kind of person she might encounter. However, this feeling didn’t last long, quickly dispelled by someone who suddenly burst in.
Lost in thought, Mei Lin suddenly felt an arm tighten around her waist, pulling her into an embrace. Simultaneously, the Yan girl next to her was also swept up. Caught off guard, their foreheads nearly collided.
Looking up, she saw a young, handsome face. Before she could make out his features clearly, she heard a “tsk” and felt a forceful kiss on her cheek.
Startled, Mei Lin watched as he turned to kiss the other girl in his arms. Unsure how to react, she allowed him to lead her forward, suspecting his identity must be significant.
Indeed, before they reached the emperor, Murong Xuanlie’s laughter rang out.
“Jinghe, you’re late. Has General Mei already allowed you into her tent?” Though his words seemed teasing, Mei Lin detected a hint of mockery. She discreetly glanced at the emperor, noting his undisguised impatience and coldness, which puzzled her.
The man holding them seemed oblivious. He shrugged, feigning helplessness, and said, “Royal Brother jests. Luomei isn’t like these women…” As he spoke, his hands roamed over both girls’ bodies.
Bastard! Mei Lin thought, barely containing her disgust. Before she could voice her thoughts, someone else beat her to it.
“Scoundrel!” came the angry rebuke from the man seated at the highest position.
Mei Lin felt the man’s body stiffen briefly before relaxing. He bowed to the Flame Emperor with both girls in tow, grinning, “Your son arrives late. Father Emperor, please forgive me.” Despite his words, his tone lacked any trace of remorse.
“What a disgrace. Get out of my sight,” the old emperor disliked this son, unwilling to waste more time scolding him.
Nevertheless, the man was still a prince. Soon, someone made room for him next to Murong Xuanlie, setting out new dishes and utensils.
Murong Jinghe carelessly responded with a “Yes,” then sat down, immediately starting to flirt with the beauties in his arms, ignoring the varied expressions of those around him since his arrival.
After being forced to drink two cups of wine, Mei Lin finally got a clear look at his face.
The man didn’t particularly resemble the old emperor, but his eyes were a perfect inheritance—narrow and upturned, always half-closed as if perpetually sleepy. His features were distinct: a straight nose and full lips made him undeniably handsome. However, his complexion was pale with a hint of green, and his expression was frivolous and decadent, giving the impression of overindulgence.
Monitoring such a person shouldn’t be difficult, Mei Lin thought. Yet her heart sank, knowing that while it might not be challenging, the likelihood of obtaining valuable intelligence from him seemed slim.
Their mission, as part of the bridal party’s entourage, was to get close to Great Yan’s high-ranking officials and generals—in other words, to act as spies. The instructions in their secret compartments didn’t specify which areas to focus on, but it was clear that the more valuable the intelligence, the better the antidote they’d receive.
Value, value, value… she cursed inwardly, while outwardly maintaining a gentle smile, demurely pouring wine for the man who was now toying with another girl. Unexpectedly, he suddenly groped her chest, startling her into spilling wine. The next moment, she was pushed towards the neighboring seat, hearing the man’s carefree laughter.
“Royal Brother, don’t you prefer women with larger breasts? I’ll trade this one for the one on your right.”
A girl’s startled cry rang out, followed by clumsy evasion. Mei Lin stumbled into someone. A faint, elegant fragrance cut through the heavy smell of alcohol and roasted meat, putting her on alert. Before she could react, her chin was lifted.
Compared to Jinghe, Murong Xuanlie looked more like the old emperor. Perhaps this was why he was so favored? Those eyes seemed more fitting on his somewhat delicate face, making him appear almost wickedly handsome.
His long eyes narrowed slightly as he gave Mei Lin a brief look before releasing her.
“Use the other one,” he said, his tone and gaze clearly showing his disapproval.
Without a word, Murong Jinghe motioned for the girl in his arms to go over.
Mei Lin secretly sighed in relief, automatically returning to his side. Murong Xuanlie’s eyes flashed with sharp intelligence; he was not someone to be trifled with. She’d rather stay with Murong Jinghe, who was inferior in every aspect, as the chances of losing her life seemed much lower.
The exchange of women between the two princes was insignificant, drawing no attention from others. The old emperor, in poor health, left after a short while, supported by his attendants. Princess Zigu departed with him.
With the most intimidating presence gone and beauties for company, the atmosphere quickly became lively.
The girl who had switched from Murong Xuanlie’s side wore a cold expression, unlike the other women’s gentle compliance. Whether this was her nature or dissatisfaction with the exchange was unclear. Mei Lin discreetly observed her, finding nothing particularly special about her appearance. Though beautiful, she wasn’t more so than the previous girl. Objectively, Mei Lin even thought the girl’s nose was a bit too sharp, making her somewhat uncomfortable to look at.
Strangely, Murong Jinghe didn’t mind the girl’s rudeness. Instead, he seemed eager to engage her in conversation, smiling even when glared at, much to Mei Lin’s astonishment.
What a fool! she thought while maintaining a gentle smile and continuously offering wine. Her tense emotions finally relaxed a bit. Seeing the man’s indifference towards her, she figured she probably wouldn’t have to share his bed tonight.
From the girl’s occasional responses, Mei Lin learned her name was A’dai. Throughout the evening, Murong Jinghe never asked for Mei Lin’s name.
As the banquet ended, both women accompanied Murong Jinghe back to his tent.
“Wait here,” he said to Mei Lin outside the tent, his eyes still lustfully fixed on A’dai, his intentions clear.
Mei Lin complied, stopping and inwardly sighing with relief. Though the autumn night was cold, it was preferable to be pressed beneath a lecherous scoundrel.
However, her relief was short-lived. Just as Murong Jinghe reached out to embrace A’dai, who had maintained a distance from him throughout, the girl suddenly pressed a dagger—seemingly produced from nowhere—against her chest.
“If you touch me, I’ll die before your eyes,” she declared fiercely, her beautiful eyes filled with despair and determination.
Mei Lin was stunned. Her gaze moved from the girl’s resolute eyes to the dagger, realizing it was one used to cut roasted meat at the banquet. The girl had somehow managed to conceal it silently, apparently in preparation for this moment. Mei Lin inwardly groaned, sensing events were about to take an unwanted turn.
Sure enough, Murong Jinghe seemed only slightly surprised before chuckling. He didn’t force the issue, waving his hand and saying, “Then you can stay outside.”
He turned to Mei Lin, smiling as he asked, “Would you like me to lend you a dagger too?”
Though he was smiling, Mei Lin saw no mirth in his half-closed eyes. An inexplicable chill ran down her spine. She quickly moved forward, nestling into his embrace, and said with a placating smile, “This slave is already yours, Prince. I am at your disposal.” Her words were ambiguous and suggestive, neither directly rejecting his ominous offer nor allowing misinterpretation of her meaning.
Mei Lin didn’t believe she had whatever leverage A’dai possessed, though she wasn’t sure what that was. She wasn’t foolish enough to test or imitate it. Or perhaps she simply couldn’t understand using one’s own life to threaten others. To these men who viewed them as playthings, what value did their lives hold?
Her quick thinking pleased him. Murong Jinghe gave a faint smile, then suddenly bent down and scooped her up, carrying her into the tent.
That smile held no particular meaning, too detached to belong to this person. Mei Lin was momentarily dazed, recalling the man’s earlier expressionless eyes and the chill they had sent through her. She inwardly became more vigilant.
Perhaps this person wasn’t as shallow and vulgar as he appeared. Just as this thought crossed her mind, she was thrown onto a thick felt rug. The next moment, Murong Jinghe was on top of her.
The acrid smell of alcohol mixed with Murong Jinghe’s unfamiliar scent enveloped her. Mei Lin finally began to feel anxious about what was about to happen. She wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with sexual matters; back in the dark facility, those instructors and leaders had abused their positions to take advantage of many young boys and girls. She had escaped this fate, reportedly because her mother was a brothel worker with a secret illness. In their eyes, the blood flowing through her veins was tainted. She didn’t have much memory of this, but the painful expressions of her roommates were etched deeply in her mind. Recalling this now, she felt somewhat fearful.
Afraid she might lose her nerve and do something life-threatening, she clutched the felt rug with sweaty hands, turning her head to the side, the seductive smile on her lips long since frozen.
As it turned out, Murong Jinghe was not one to cherish or pity women. Without even the pretense of foreplay, he directly took possession of her. Mei Lin let out a muffled groan of pain, her body tensing, sweat dampening her hair at the temples.
Uncomfortable with her dryness and tightness, Murong Jinghe’s knife-like eyebrows furrowed slightly. He coldly commanded, “Relax, you’re hurting me.”
Hearing this, Mei Lin wanted to curse loudly, but in reality, she could only bite her lower lip, trembling as she tried to adapt to the fiery intrusion. Only when her nails dug into her palms did her body slightly relax?
Murong Jinghe immediately sensed the change and became more forceful and inconsiderate.
Mei Lin was awakened by the glaring light and the bear-like paws incessantly groping her chest. Before she could fully grasp her situation, a searing pain invaded her body, instantly dispelling any remaining haziness from her mind. With her martial arts skills newly disabled, her body was weaker than most. Coupled with days of exhausting travel and the hidden toxins in her system, she had fainted halfway through the act.
“Ungrateful,” Murong Jinghe’s lazy voice suddenly sounded near her ear, startling her. She wondered what she had done to provoke him again. When she managed to open her eyes with some effort, she realized he wasn’t talking to her.
Candles blazed high in the tent, indicating it was still the middle of the night. Murong Jinghe lay on his side next to her, supporting his head with one hand. His robe was half-open, revealing smooth, taut skin with slightly raised muscles underneath—not as soft and flabby as she had imagined, though his skin color, like his complexion, was an unhealthy pale green.
He was looking towards the tent entrance with half-closed eyes that seemed to never fully open, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His free hand was lewdly kneading her bare chest.
Mei Lin strongly resisted the urge to slap his hand away, turning her head to look outside.
Beyond the empty central area of the tent, she saw A’dai kneeling there, her long hair disheveled, her face ashen, yet still defiantly maintaining an erect posture. Behind her stood two men in Imperial Guard uniforms.
Her body stiffened slightly, and Mei Lin discreetly shifted, reaching out to search for something to cover her naked body.
Noticing she was awake, Murong Jinghe lowered his gaze briefly before returning it to A’dai, who was staring back at him with eyes full of contempt. He smiled, seemingly not angry, but his words were extremely cruel.
“Slap her face. Let her understand her position.”
As he spoke, he turned over again, pressing down on Mei Lin.
Mei Lin let out a muffled groan, feeling her unhealed wounds tear open again. Yet she had to tightly embrace the man on top of her to prevent her body from being completely exposed to others’ views.
With an affirmative response, the sound of sharp slaps echoed in the tent, one after another.
“You’re much more obedient,” Murong Jinghe whispered in Mei Lin’s ear, his hot breath entering her ear canal, causing goosebumps to rise all over her body.
She wanted to say something flattering in response, but her throat felt dry, and she couldn’t make a sound. So she could only force her lips into what she hoped was her most alluring smile. Closing her eyes, the image of a pear blossom floated in her mind, gradually easing the tension in her chest.
After what seemed like an eternity, the man finally withdrew from her body, and the sound of slapping stopped. Throughout it all, A’dai hadn’t uttered a single plea for mercy.
Murong Jinghe looked at A’dai, whose lips were split and bleeding, yet still raised her swollen face to meet his gaze. A strange light flickered in his dark eyes, but his voice was cold as he sneered, “What, still not convinced?”
A’dai remained silent, the disdain in her beautiful eyes growing stronger.
Murong Jinghe rubbed his brow, too bored to continue. With a wave of his hand, he said disinterestedly, “Drag her out. Consider her a reward for your services.” His meaning couldn’t have been clearer—he was giving her to the entire camp of Imperial Guards.
“No—” Seeing the joy in the eyes of the two men holding her, about to kneel and give thanks, A’dai’s psychological defenses finally crumbled, and she screamed.
That scream was shrill and mournful, piercing straight into Mei Lin’s ears, making her involuntarily shudder. She opened her eyes, just in time to catch the triumphant gleam in Murong Jinghe’s eyes.
A’dai had finally submitted, she thought. Strangely, she wasn’t surprised by this; it was as if she had known from the beginning that this would be the outcome.
Later, she learned that on that night, A’dai had attempted to escape.
(End of Chun Hua Yan – Chapter)