“Your Highness, please show mercy. For my sake, spare this reckless youth Han Shiyuan,” Zhang Baohuan pleaded with a forced smile, stepping between Yuchi Yanghe and Han Shiyuan. He tried to push away the sword hilt, hoping to avoid further conflict.
“You’re here to protect him?” Yuchi Yanghe’s expression darkened. His tiger-like eyes flashed as he pressed the blade harder against Han Shiyuan’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood.
The sight of blood terrified Zhang Baohuan, draining the color from his face. Abandoning all pretense of courtesy, he gripped the sword hilt with both hands, using all his strength to push it away. He even dared to move his face closer to the blade.
The Empress valued his face above all else. Even Princess Yong’an wouldn’t dare harm it, let alone Yuchi Yanghe.
As expected, Yuchi Yanghe had no choice but to lower his Green Dragon Sword, despite his anger.
“Zhang Baohuan!” he roared. “We’ve never had any dealings before. Are you going to side with this scoundrel against me?”
Finally feeling safe, Zhang Baohuan glanced at the blood trickling from Han Shiyuan’s neck. A flicker of concern passed through his eyes as he pulled a clean handkerchief from his sleeve and offered it to Han Shiyuan. But Han Shiyuan turned away, refusing to accept it.
“If you lose too much blood, it will weaken you. How will you take care of Miss Zhu then?” Zhang Baohuan said, his eyes betraying hidden currents as he recalled the message Shen Du had sent.
Han Shiyuan’s fingers trembled slightly. He raised his hand to cover the wound but still refused Zhang Baohuan’s handkerchief.
“What’s this? Putting on an act in front of me?” Yuchi Yanghe rarely experienced such treatment from anyone other than Princess Yong’an’s cold shoulder. A raging fire burned within him, threatening to consume his reason as he gripped and released the Green Dragon Sword repeatedly.
Zhang Baohuan, well-practiced in reading people, grabbed Han Shiyuan’s hand and forcefully pressed the handkerchief into it.
He then turned, still shielding Han Shiyuan behind him, and said with a smile, “Your Highness, you misunderstand. I have some acquaintance with Young Master Han and know he’s not one to cause trouble. Surely you’re not that sort of person either. Perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding between you. Why don’t we sit down and talk it through?”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Yuchi Yanghe bellowed. “He dares show his face here after becoming a kept man? If I don’t break one of his legs, I’ll consider myself a coward!” With that, he swung the three-hundred-pound Green Dragon Sword through the air.
The blade whistled past Zhang Baohuan and Han Shiyuan’s right arms, the sound piercing their ears and nearly taking their breath away.
Han Shiyuan couldn’t help but notice Zhang Baohuan’s slight trembling in front of him. He took a deep breath, stepped around Zhang Baohuan, and bowed to Yuchi Yanghe. “My relationship with the Princess is not what you think. I came today on an urgent matter and need to see her. Please, would you inform her of my presence?”
“You think denying it makes it untrue?” Yuchi Yanghe scoffed. “Your affair with Yong’an is the talk of the town. Any commoner on the street could tell you about your scandalous relationship. Do you think a simple ‘it’s not what you think’ explains everything?” He swung the hilt of the Green Dragon Sword viciously at Han Shiyuan.
Who cared about the truth? He just wanted to vent his anger!
As the arm-thick hilt came hurtling towards him, Han Shiyuan, stubborn as ever, stood his ground despite his pale face. He had to save Caiwei! As long as he could see Princess Yong’an and get the antidote, he didn’t care if he died.
“Stop!” Zhang Baohuan used all his strength to pull Han Shiyuan away.
Just as Han Shiyuan was dragged clear, the hilt smashed down with a thunderous “boom” that sounded like a landslide. Zhang Baohuan’s gaze followed the hilt to the blade, which vibrated rapidly behind Yuchi Yanghe, its low hum lingering in the air.
There was no doubt – if that blow had landed, it would have split Han Shiyuan’s skull in two!
“Yuchi Yanghe!” Zhang Baohuan was thoroughly enraged now, his eyes like daggers, wishing he could cut Yuchi Yanghe into a thousand pieces.
“He’s nothing but a commoner who thinks he can climb the social ladder with his looks. Am I not allowed to teach him a lesson?” Yuchi Yanghe complained, resting the Green Dragon Sword on his shoulder. His eyes narrowed as if seeking another opportunity to strike.
Unfortunately for him, Zhang Baohuan shifted his position, completely blocking Han Shiyuan from view, leaving only his moon-white robes visible.
“Assaulting someone in the street, abusing your power – do you truly have no regard for the law, Your Highness?” Zhang Baohuan challenged.
Using the “law” against him?
Yuchi Yanghe’s hand itched again. He cracked his neck, finding Zhang Baohuan increasingly irritating. Suddenly, he had a moment of realization and let out an “Oh!”
“I almost forgot, you’re also someone who serves with his looks. Heh, birds of a feather indeed.”
“Has Your Highness resorted to nonsense because you know you’re in the wrong?” Zhang Baohuan’s patience was wearing thin. He had already shown more restraint than usual, and now his jade-like face was frosted with a thick layer of ice.
He had never felt ashamed of earning his position through his abilities, but he wouldn’t allow Han Shiyuan to be insulted like this.
“Inverting the natural order between men and women, going against moral principles, groveling before women – isn’t that what people like you do? What’s the matter, can dish it out but can’t take it?” Yuchi Yanghe sneered.
He refused to back down, so Zhang Baohuan’s lips curled into a cold smile as he delivered the most cutting remark: “At least I have the looks to please others. Unfortunately, Your Highness has no such assets. I hear Princess Yong’an has taken a fancy to another refined scholar. Perhaps he’ll soon be her new favorite.”
Yuchi Yanghe’s lips pressed into a thin line. Even though he didn’t care for Princess Yong’an, he certainly didn’t like hearing about his wife’s dalliances with others.
As the sun set, bathing the world in orange light, Zhang Baohuan laughed mockingly: “By my count, Princess Yong’an must have taken in at least twenty or thirty men, if not fifty or sixty.”
Just then, the sound of sensual music drifted over the high walls of the Princess’s mansion, reaching their ears.
Yuchi Yanghe’s face darkened as the music evoked memories of the disgusting scenes he had witnessed in Princess Yong’an’s chambers.
Gauzy curtains fluttering, men and women in revealing clothes frolicking shamelessly, musicians playing to set the mood, dancers swaying seductively, some serving wine, others laughing and reciting poetry – a complete spectacle.
His chest heaved violently as Yuchi Yanghe felt his blood boiling. He gripped the Green Dragon Sword tightly, gritting his teeth as the taste of blood filled his mouth. He was using all his willpower to resist the urge to storm into the Princess’s mansion.
Seeing this, Zhang Baohuan let out a cold laugh and turned to lead Han Shiyuan away.
When you gleefully thrust a blade into someone’s heart, how can you expect sympathy when you’re the one who’s hurt?
Zhang Baohuan felt no pity for Yuchi Yanghe. If Yuchi Yanghe hadn’t pushed so hard, why would Zhang Baohuan have responded so mercilessly?
Han Shiyuan was still focused on getting the antidote, but he wasn’t a fool. Seeing Yuchi Yanghe in this state, he knew there was no hope of meeting Princess Yong’an today.
He shook off Zhang Baohuan’s hand and headed dejectedly back to the Zhu residence.