Originally, Jing Hengbo had planned to just muddle through. After all, there was a beautiful man, food and drink, and the beauty harbored no murderous intent toward her. Although that “Your Majesty” was spoken without much reverence, it didn’t seem like he would commit regicide either. Yet for some unknown reason, staying by his side always made her feel uneasy—on one hand her heart fluttered at his beauty, on the other she was restless with foreboding.

A woman’s sixth sense told her that this man called Gong Yin was unwilling to get close to her.

His coldness wasn’t just natural aloofness, but an unwillingness to hide his rejection. That rejection spread faintly like smoke and ash, visible in his gaze and actions, in the instant of a backward glance or the sweep of his sleeve.

When he looked at her, it was like looking at a black poisonous flower blooming amid the ruins and mud of broken walls.

Jing Hengbo had spent her first eighteen years in the research institute. Though isolated from the world, she knew that a woman’s beauty was her most precious gift and most important weapon—no man on earth could resist it. Born with a love for all beautiful things, she spared no effort in protecting and developing her own beauty. She was confident that upon leaving the research institute, as long as she faced a patriarchal society, she would have a way to survive.

Men were men everywhere, just as beauty was capital that worked everywhere.

However, this principle that had proven infallible for thousands of years seemed to hit a wall when facing the first powerful man she formally encountered in this strange world.

Sigh, why was her luck so bad? Shouldn’t this kind of terrible situation happen to honest people like Jun Ke, little foxes like Wen Zhen, or stubborn stones in latrines like Taishi Lan?

In the distance came sounds of intense fighting. Jing Hengbo lifted a corner of the window curtain and saw the cold gleam of blades piercing through the moonlight, even the starlight seemed forced into dimness.

“How did the fighting reach here?” She was startled, glancing sideways at Gong Yin. “Your subordinates’ combat abilities aren’t much to speak of. They clearly went out to pursue and ambush attackers, yet ended up being chased back by the enemy.”

Gong Yin glanced up at the battlefield and drew a horizontal line on the map with his brush.

Jing Hengbo didn’t understand what he was doing, but this fellow clearly wasn’t nervous—that was certain. Thinking safety wasn’t much of a problem, she examined Gong Yin’s thigh and began seriously considering the possibility of leaning against it to sleep.

Before this plan could be implemented, the sounds of battle outside gradually died down. Several black shadows fled far across the mountain forest, while the thin man returned with his troops, prisoners in hand.

Jing Hengbo studied the returning team. Not one of Gong Yin’s men was missing, though quite a few were wounded. Yet each one was calm and composed with steady steps, their brows carrying the same tranquil bearing as Gong Yin.

Jing Hengbo frowned, feeling something was off. This team seemed both strong and weak. Call them strong? They went out chasing people only to be chased back near their own carriage, most were wounded, and they let several enemies escape, showing insufficient strength. Call them weak? Their results weren’t bad either—they captured quite a few prisoners. Even wounded, those wounds were merely flesh wounds that looked bloody but had no real effect on them, as evidenced by their walking posture and demeanor.

Battlefields were perilous with unpredictable outcomes. Normally no one could control the results, yet these men’s uniform minor wounds seemed almost deliberate…

Her delicate brows knitted together. Gong Yin suddenly looked up at her, his clear crystalline eyes showing a trace of strange expression.

She appeared languid and alluring, completely unlike her, yet the sharp perception in her bones seemed to overlap with her shadow by a fraction…

Gong Yin’s eyes suddenly turned cold. His slender fingers slowly folded the map册—one fold, two folds… The册’s edges showed clear creases.

Jing Hengbo watched his movements in bewilderment, suddenly feeling a bit cold, and lazily shifted outward.

The thin man’s voice came from outside the carriage: “Master, we captured seven bandits. Please instruct how to deal with them.”

A row of captured highway robbers knelt bound before the carriage. Jing Hengbo lifted her head with interest, wanting to see how this cold beauty would handle highway robbers.

From how a person treated enemies, one could see their character. From the methods a person used to interrogate enemies, one could see their moral boundaries.

Then she heard two emotionless words drift lightly from Gong Yin’s thin lips.

“Continue.”

Continue? Jing Hengbo was stunned, truly not understanding what these abrupt two words meant.

Shouldn’t he get out and interrogate them? She was still hoping that perhaps she could sleep and not have to travel through the night.

Then she understood what “continue” meant.

Outside, a whip cracked sharply through the air, horses neighed, and the carriage immediately rumbled forward like an arrow.

The carriage moved too suddenly. Jing Hengbo’s body was thrown toward Gong Yin’s embrace. With quick eyes and hands, Gong Yin flicked his sleeve, positioning the black lacquered small table before him. With a bang, Jing Hengbo once again collapsed onto the small table, her chest squeezed into two pancakes.

“Damn… could you give some warning…” Jing Hengbo trembled as she struggled on the table, reaching to arrange herself with effort. “Who’s responsible if they get flattened and shrunk…” Looking up to meet Gong Yin’s gaze, she simply pushed her body forward. “How about it? Deep groove, tight seam, narrow canyon?”

Gong Yin’s gaze immediately turned away. Unfortunately the carriage was too dark for Jing Hengbo to see if his expression changed.

She laughed heartily, feeling she’d regained some ground, quite satisfying indeed.

The carriage suddenly jolted, seemingly hitting some object, followed by several consecutive bangs and shakes that made the entire carriage rock. Screams came one after another, close to her ears, mixed with cries of alarm from Cui Jie and the other two in the ox cart behind.

Jing Hengbo’s heart shook as she suddenly remembered—the carriage had charged forward violently just now, while prisoners knelt before it…

She rushed toward the window but before reaching it, was coldly pulled back by a pair of hands.

“Behave yourself.” Gong Yin’s voice was clear as crystal and cold as ice. Even someone as casual as Jing Hengbo couldn’t help but tremble upon hearing it.

Her fingers touched the curtain’s edge but she couldn’t find the courage to lift it. In the darkness she stared wide-eyed, silently counting the carriage’s impacts with objects—one, two, three, four…

Seven!

A total of seven impacts.

The last shock was especially violent. Something banged onto the carriage roof then rolled down. Jing Hengbo looked up and suddenly screamed.

Above the carriage window hung a bloody arm, twisted at a grotesque angle. Large amounts of blood spurted onto the pale green bamboo-patterned curtain like a blood-colored dahlia suddenly blooming in a bamboo grove.

The thin man rode up, his long spear flicking to remove the last prisoner who had been knocked onto the carriage roof. The man’s finger blood dragged five long marks across the curtain like five desperate swords drawn and sheathed empty.

The carriage stopped. Jing Hengbo heard retching sounds from the ox cart behind.

She sat dazedly, utterly shocked—was this the cruelty of feudal society treating human life like grass? People like lamp wicks blown out by wind, power like rocks crushing mountains?

Having been in this strange world for nearly a month, though fallen into a brothel, she had mostly seen singing, dancing, prosperity and luxury. Even being startled by the black-clothed beauty’s casual killing on her first day wasn’t as brutal as today.

To think that just now she had been sitting in the carriage while its wheels viciously crushed those lives that had just been alive and breathing…

In the darkness her posture was rigid. Across from her, Gong Yin also sat motionless, his crystal-like eyes for the first time truly looking at her.

Seeing her shock, her bewilderment, her casualness instantly shattered, and the fear now welling in her eyes.

Such fear seemed somewhat familiar. Not long ago, in that palace blooming with flowers, on that blood-stained night, belonging to the court and imperial power—that killing and betrayal carrying the scent of bloody rust that could not be recorded in history books…

He sat even more upright, his snow-white hands placed flat on his knees, his entire being spotless like an exiled immortal untouched by worldly affairs.

This was merely the beginning.

What she witnessed today might be cruel, but if she never saw it, what she would directly face in the future would be even more cruel.

Jing Hengbo suddenly stood up, pushed open the carriage door in one motion, and without greeting him or caring that the carriage had already started moving, turned and hurriedly jumped down.

If not for Gong Yin’s timely finger gesture signaling the carriage to stop, that jump would have been enough to sprain her ankle.

Even so, her high heels still caused her trouble. When she landed, she wobbled. She crouched down protecting her ankle in pain, but didn’t linger. Simply removing her high heels and carrying them in her hand, she held her head high and limped toward the ox cart.

Gong Yin made no sound, offered no retention. When Jing Hengbo stumbled, his fingers seemed to move, or perhaps not.

Then he said: “Continue.”

This utterance sounded even fainter than before.