As the weather gradually warmed and the spring breeze turned gentler, hoofbeats echoed and wheels rolled on.
Jiang Ci lowered the carriage curtain and turned back, asking, “Third Young Master, where are we going?”
Wei Zhao’s gaze was cold as frost. He glanced at her before fixing his eyes back on the book in his hand. Jiang Ci sighed inwardly and fell silent, unconsciously stroking her left hand with her right as she lowered her head.
The atmosphere in the carriage grew stifling. Jiang Ci looked around and picked up a copy of “Reminiscences of the Past” beside Wei Zhao. He looked up at her again, and she hastily put it down. Wei Zhao said nothing, leaning back on the cushions and hiding his face behind his book.
Jiang Ci smiled faintly and picked up the “Reminiscences of the Past” again, reading it carefully. Suddenly, she came across a poem titled “Reminiscing in Yangzhou.” Her eyes fell upon the line “The whisper of the Xiao River passes in the blink of an eye, five strings can hardly express the sorrow of ten thousand years” – a line her master had once taught her to write. Her eyes welled up, and she quickly turned to lift the carriage curtain. Though the spring scenery outside was fresh and beautiful, it couldn’t stem the tears that surged forth.
Wei Zhao slowly lowered his book, observing Jiang Ci’s profile. He shook his head and once again concealed his face behind the book.
After a while, Jiang Ci forcefully suppressed her sorrow. When night fell and they stopped at an inn, she acted as if nothing had happened, eating, washing up, and even humming a tune.
Wei Zhao remained silent, only looking up at Jiang Ci when he heard her singing.
After washing up, Jiang Ci rolled up a cotton quilt from the bed and lay down on the footstool in front of it. She smiled and said, “Third Young Master is so stingy, not even willing to pay for another room. Are you afraid I’ll run away in the night?”
Wei Zhao removed his mask and lay down on the bed fully clothed. He replied coolly, “No matter where you run, I can always catch you and bring you back.”
Jiang Ci was curious. “Why?”
Wei Zhao’s right hand waved gently, and the candle flickered out. He gazed at the green gauze canopy above, unable to suppress a smile, though his tone remained icy. “Do you think I would tell you?”
Jiang Ci didn’t ask further. She wrapped herself in the quilt and closed her eyes to sleep.
The early spring night still carried a chill. Sleeping on the cold, hard footstool with only a thin cotton quilt, Jiang Ci felt cold. In the late night, she coughed a few times, her breathing growing heavier. When she woke up in the early morning, her head was dizzy and heavy. She sneezed several times, and after washing up, she was coughing continuously.
Wei Zhao, who had been sitting on the bed cultivating his Yuan Power, opened his eyes upon hearing Jiang Ci’s coughs. He looked at her briefly before closing his eyes again.
When the waiter knocked, Jiang Ci brought in the breakfast and set it on the table. Feeling discomfort in her throat and lacking appetite, she turned back and said, “Third Young Master, breakfast is ready.” She sat down on the footstool again.
Wei Zhao ate quietly. Seeing that Jiang Ci hadn’t come over, he looked up and asked, “Why aren’t you eating?”
Jiang Ci’s cheeks were flushed. She leaned against the bed, saying weakly, “I’m not hungry. I don’t want to eat.”
Wei Zhao came over and felt her forehead, frowning slightly. He put on his mask and gauze hat, then turned and left the room. Jiang Ci didn’t know where he went and didn’t dare leave the room. She leaned against the bed, drifting in and out of consciousness.
After an unknown amount of time, a strong bitter taste filled her mouth. Jiang Ci awoke startled to find Wei Zhao pinching her cheeks, pouring medicine into her mouth. She was forced to drink the large bowl of bitter medicine, choking and shedding tears.
Wei Zhao put down the bowl abruptly and said coldly, “Get up. Don’t delay our journey!”
Jiang Ci struggled to her feet and followed him to the carriage. After half an hour, her body began to sweat, and her congestion eased somewhat. Realizing the medicine was taking effect, she looked at Wei Zhao and said softly, “Thank you, Third Young Master.”
Wei Zhao’s gaze remained fixed on his book. He didn’t look up as he replied, “Don’t thank me. I just didn’t want you to fall ill and delay our business.” He took out a cloth bag from behind him and tossed it to Jiang Ci.
Jiang Ci opened the bag to find several steamed buns inside. As the chill subsided, she felt hungry. She looked up at Wei Zhao with a smile and said, “Even if the Third Young Master doesn’t like to hear it, I still want to say thank you.” She then began eating the buns heartily.
Wei Zhao slowly raised his head, watching Jiang Ci. Seeing her eat somewhat hastily, he finally couldn’t help but say, “Eat more slowly.”
Jiang Ci felt a bit embarrassed and turned away. Wei Zhao gazed at her back for a long time, suddenly realizing that her figure had become much thinner compared to when he first met her last year.
That day, the carriage traveled extremely fast, finally entering Yu Jian Prefecture before nightfall.
Jiang Ci peered through the gap in the carriage curtain and saw the three large characters “Yu Jian Prefecture” on the city gate. Excited, she patted Wei Zhao’s hand and said, “Third Young Master, we’ve arrived at Yu Jian Prefecture.”
“Obviously.”
Jiang Ci found it amusing and said, “I’ve heard that there’s a ‘Jade Dragon Spring’ on Little West Mountain in Yu Jian Prefecture. They say if people can hear the spring water singing at midnight, they’ll have a peaceful life without suffering from then on.”
Wei Zhao scoffed, “Nonsense. And you believe it?”
Jiang Ci’s face reddened. Wei Zhao saw it clearly and said with some disdain, “Your excessive curiosity will be your downfall someday.”
Jiang Ci muttered, “Hasn’t it already?”
The carriage wound through the city, turning this way and that, before finally stopping in a small alley when it was completely dark.
Hearing the coachman’s footsteps fade away, Wei Zhao slipped out of the carriage like a ghost. Jiang Ci followed, jumping down. Wei Zhao casually took her hand and leaped over the wall, landing in a courtyard.
The courtyard wasn’t large, with only five or six rooms. A red lantern hung under the corridor. Wisteria draped lightly in the yard, with a few bluestone benches beneath. In front of the benches was a row of winter jasmine. The early moonlight mixed with the lantern light, casting a soft glow on the pale yellow winter jasmine, creating a misty, fresh atmosphere.
Jiang Ci was particularly fond of the winter jasmine. She broke free from Wei Zhao’s grasp to take a closer look, then turned back with a smile, asking, “Third Young Master, where is this?”
Wei Zhao watched her smile, his eyes flickering slightly. Hearing a faint knocking sound from outside the courtyard, he suddenly turned, saying coldly, “Come in.”
A slender woman veiled in gauze entered. Jiang Ci smiled and asked, “Are you the Elder Holy Maiden or the Younger Holy Maiden?”
Cheng Xiaoxiao took an immediate liking to Jiang Ci and discreetly held up two fingers. Jiang Ci smiled knowingly. Cheng Xiaoxiao knelt before Wei Zhao and said, “Greetings, Sect Leader.”
“Speak.”
“Yes. My sister and the young Prince Qingde are currently drinking at ‘Chengfeng Pavilion.’ Afterward, my sister will lead him to ‘Jade Dragon Spring.’ They should arrive around the end of the Xu hour (around 9 PM).”
Wei Zhao extended his right hand, and Cheng Xiaoxiao quickly took out a black night-walking outfit from her bundle and handed it to him.
Wei Zhao casually removed his plain robe and undergarment. Cheng Xiaoxiao happened to glance at his bare chest, her cheeks instantly turning crimson, though her eyes didn’t move away in the slightest.
As Wei Zhao put on the night-walking outfit, Cheng Xiaoxiao saw that his front wasn’t fastened and instinctively reached out with both hands. Wei Zhao’s right hand suddenly pushed out, knocking Cheng Xiaoxiao to the ground. She came to her senses and quickly knelt, her whole body trembling slightly.
Jiang Ci walked over, intending to help Cheng Xiaoxiao up, but Cheng Xiaoxiao dared not rise.
Seeing Jiang Ci’s stern face, Wei Zhao coldly said, “Get up.”
As Cheng Xiaoxiao stood, Wei Zhao continued, “In an hour, you and Old Lin take her to Ten Mile Slope outside the city and wait for me. After we leave, you and Yingying pay attention to recent deaths and injuries in the martial arts world and see if they were caused by Nangong Jue. The Council Hall will surely hold a meeting soon to mediate disputes. Your task is to muddy the waters as much as possible.”
Jiang Ci gasped, as if struck by lightning, and pointed at Cheng Xiaoxiao, “So it was you!”
At the martial arts conference, Cheng Yingying and Cheng Xiaoxiao participated in trials as disciples of the “Twin Gate,” eventually entering the Council Hall. But the twin sisters had spoken little during their matches, leaving Jiang Ci with only a vague impression. Later, when she saw them in Yueluo, they had always worn veils and Yueluo tribal clothing, referred to as “Great Holy Maiden” and “Little Holy Maiden.” She hadn’t recognized them. Only now, with Cheng Xiaoxiao back in Eastern Dynasty clothes and hearing Wei Zhao’s words, did she realize that the “Holy Maidens” were the Cheng sisters who had entered the Martial Arts Council Hall.
Wei Zhao glanced at Jiang Ci, suddenly donned a veil, and vanished over the wall in a flash.
West of Yujian Prefecture was a small mountain called Little West Mountain, known for its beautiful scenery and, most famously, a spring at its peak called “Jade Dragon Spring.” Its water was clear and sweet, flowing like a wheel year-round. The most famous tribute wine of Yujian Prefecture, “Jade Spring Brew,” was made using this spring water.
At the hour of Xu, a group of horses and carriages stopped at the foot of Little West Mountain. The young Duke of Qingde, wearing a jade crown and brocade robe with a white silk mourning belt—as the old Duke of Qingde had passed away less than a year ago—smiled at Cheng Yingying beside him on horseback. “Council Master Cheng, this is Little West Mountain.”
Cheng Yingying smiled charmingly, her dimples captivating, “I’ve long heard of the beauty of ‘Jade Dragon Spring.’ Since we’re in Yujian Prefecture, I wanted to see it. Thank you for the trouble, Your Grace.”
The young Duke of Qingde hurriedly replied, “Council Master Cheng is too polite. Since you two are in Yujian Prefecture, it’s my duty as host to show you around. It’s a pity that Miss Xiaoxiao is unwell, otherwise—”
Cheng Yingying sighed, “Indeed, my sister was looking forward to seeing ‘Jade Dragon Spring’ and hearing the water sing. It’s unfortunate.”
Seeing Cheng Yingying’s flower-like beauty, even her light sigh seemed like willows swaying in a spring breeze, stirring the young duke’s heart. He was known for his romantic pursuits and had long heard of the Cheng sisters’ renowned beauty. When he heard from his subordinates that the Cheng sisters had arrived in Yujian Prefecture, he rushed to invite them on this outing under the guise of hospitality. Though he only managed to invite the elder sister, he thought that with some effort, the younger one would surely fall into his hands as well.
He gracefully dismounted and held Cheng Yingying’s horse. She alighted with light steps, and the duke’s attendants, quick to please, cheered in unison.
Cheng Yingying smiled charmingly, delighting the young Duke of Qingde even more as he led her up the mountain.
In the misty spring night, the duke’s attention was entirely on Cheng Yingying. When a flash of cold light suddenly appeared and a chilling blade came at his face, he barely managed to jerk back, but the sword still pierced his side by an inch.
Cheng Yingying shouted angrily, her soft whip entangling the black-clad assassin’s right arm, just barely stopping the fatal strike.
Though wounded in the ribs, the young Duke of Qingde was also a skilled fighter. He summoned all his Yuan Power and struck at the assassin with both palms. Entangled by Cheng Yingying’s whip, the assassin was forced to abandon his sword, flipping backward and releasing over ten flying daggers. Cheng Yingying deflected each one to the ground.
The black-clad assassin drew another long sword from his back, using desperate moves to attack the young duke. The duke’s followers had now reacted; his top fighter, Duan Renjian, raised his cold blade, quick as lightning, forcing the assassin to retreat step by step. The other followers either drew swords or took up bows and arrows.
Cheng Yingying supported the young Duke of Qingde, asking urgently, “Your Grace, are you alright?”
The young duke shook his head, “It’s nothing, just a small wound. Thank you, Council Master Cheng.”
Seeing Duan Renjian locked in fierce combat with the assassin, the young duke waved his hand, “Attack, but take him alive!”
At his command, his followers surged forward, leaving only a few archers to guard the perimeter against the assassin’s escape.
The black-clad assassin wielded his sword dozens of times, trying to escape through the trees at the roadside. Duan Renjian roared, becoming one with his sword as he lunged forward. The assassin cried out in pain as Duan Renjian’s sword slashed across his right side.
The assassin spat blood, his sword forcing Duan Renjian to retreat rapidly. Suddenly, he threw a cloud of silver needles, causing everyone to dodge frantically. He leaped up, fleeing into the darkness.
Just as the assassin was about to escape, Cheng Yingying suddenly snatched a bow and arrow from an attendant. Gritting her teeth, she fired an arrow like a shooting star. A pained grunt came from the darkness, but the assassin had vanished.
Cheng Yingying threw down the bow forcefully, her voice tinged with regret, “What a pity he got away.” Seeing others about to give chase, she sighed, “It’s no use, we won’t catch him.”
Duan Renjian and others came to help the young Duke of Qingde sit on a large rock, examining his wound closely. Finding it not serious, they finally relaxed. As an attendant came to bandage him, the young duke’s handsome face grew cold as he stared at the flying daggers on the ground. Duan Renjian quickly picked them up and handed them to the duke, who examined them closely before passing them back with a cold smile, “Take a look.”
Duan Renjian examined them and was shocked, “This poison—it’s the same as what killed the old duke!”
Another man looked and nodded, “It’s a Southern poison. Could it be Yue—”
The young Duke of Qingde shook his head, “My father died from this poison, and I suspected the Southerners. But using it on me again is framing them.”
Duan Renjian whispered, “Your Grace, do you suspect—”
The young duke stood and walked to Cheng Yingying, who was standing apart from the group at the edge of the forest. He bowed deeply, “I owe Council Master Cheng a great debt for saving my life. It’s hard to repay such kindness.”
Cheng Yingying’s eyes seemed to glisten with tears as she steadied the young duke, “It’s my fault. I wanted to come to Little West Mountain, causing Your Grace to be injured. My heart is truly heavy with guilt.”
The slender hands supporting his arms were soft and fragrant, and the bright eyes before him shimmered with emotion. The young Duke of Qingde felt his heart flutter, but maintained some clarity, “May I examine your whip, Council Master Cheng?”
Cheng Yingying quickly handed over her whip. The young duke examined it closely, noticing several barbs that had caught pieces of the assassin’s sleeve.
The young duke took the fabric scraps from the barbs and walked several dozen paces away, with Duan Renjian following. He handed the scraps to Duan Renjian, who examined them closely before suddenly looking up, “It’s from the palace—”
The young Duke of Qingde struck a nearby rock forcefully, his voice filled with hatred, “That old scoundrel!” He turned abruptly, “Send orders to gather everyone at the duke’s mansion!”
Jiang Ci and Cheng Xiaoxiao stood at the foot of Ten Mile Slope. The moon had risen high, but there was still no sign of Wei Zhao. Cheng Xiaoxiao was anxiously pacing.
Jiang Ci came forward and took her arm, smiling, “You don’t need to be so anxious.”
“You don’t understand, the Sect Leader—” Cheng Xiaoxiao stopped mid-sentence.
“I know, he must be doing something very dangerous, but he’s so capable, he’ll surely escape safely,” Jiang Ci said calmly. “If he could die so easily, how could he be your Holy Sect Leader? How could he lead you to establish a nation?”
Cheng Xiaoxiao nodded, “You’re right, I was worrying for nothing. But in my heart—”
A dark figure rushed towards them. Cheng Xiaoxiao leaped forward to support Wei Zhao, but he pushed her away, jumping into the carriage. Jiang Ci climbed in after him, and Wei Zhao shouted, “Go quickly!”
Old Lin cracked his whip, and the carriage drove off into the darkness. Cheng Xiaoxiao watched as the swaying lantern on the carriage grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared. Crystalline tears covered her cheeks.