The secret passage twisted endlessly. As they ventured deeper by torchlight, Zhao Yān’s summer heat vanished completely, leaving only bone-chilling cold.
The walls were damp, with strange jagged rocks hanging from the ceiling, occasionally dripping with accumulated water.
Gu Xing crouched down, running his hand over a puddle on the ground. After examining it for a moment, he looked up toward the dark path ahead: “The footprints are fresh. About a dozen people escaped this way. There must be an exit ahead.”
The group trudged through the uneven path, one foot deep and one foot shallow. After another hundred paces, the narrow passage gradually widened into a naturally formed cave, the damp air growing thicker.
Gu Xing, who was leading the way, suddenly stopped and raised his hand to signal caution: “The footprints have disappeared. Be careful of an ambush.”
No sooner had he spoken than several shadows flashed across the stone walls. The sound of bowstrings snapping broke the silence as several short crossbow arrows shot directly at their faces.
“Protect Her Highness!” Gu Xing shouted deeply, raising his sword to cut down two arrows.
The other two guards also drew their swords, well-trained. Zhao Yān pressed herself tightly against the protruding rock wall at the corner. All she could hear was the clanging of arrows striking blades, with sparks instantly flying.
The guards had removed their armor to squeeze through the stone door earlier, placing them at a disadvantage against the relentless arrow attacks.
Gu Xing threw his torch into a puddle, gasping urgently, “Your Highness, hide and don’t move.”
…
…
Zhao Yān nodded, gripping her short dagger. As the torch extinguished, everything immediately plunged into complete darkness.
The attackers, having lost their targets, randomly fired a few more arrows before falling silent.
Zhao Yān knew they hadn’t left but were lurking in the darkness like beasts, waiting for their prey to lose patience and reveal a weakness.
The moisture seeping from the stone walls had soaked through Zhao Yān’s clothes. She held her breath, sensing extremely light footsteps approaching in the darkness, and immediately raised her dagger!
“Your Highness, it’s us.” Gu Xing felt his way over.
Zhao Yān’s tense heart finally relaxed a little as she heard Gu Xing say in a suppressed voice: “Crossbow arrows can’t turn corners. The stone wall corner is temporarily safe.”
Another guard who had been hit by an arrow had slightly uneven breathing. “They’ll find us here sooner or later.”
In this situation, confrontation was impossible. Having come so far without light to guide the way back, retreat wasn’t feasible either.
In the extreme darkness and silence, what appeared clearly in Zhao Yān’s mind was the scene of Wenren Lin teaching military tactics and strategies in Chongwen Hall.
She calmed herself and said softly, “Right now, we’re all blind. It’s uncertain who would kill whom.”
“Throw stones as bait to lure the enemy close. Then we counterattack.”
As their eyes slightly adjusted to the darkness, Gu Xing picked up a small stone and threw it into a nearby puddle. In the darkness, this slight sound was infinitely amplified, creating crisp echoes against the stone walls.
The nearest assassin, hearing the noise, immediately came with his knife to strike. The two Eastern Palace guards, who had been waiting, rushed forward to grab him and efficiently twisted his neck. The man then collapsed limply.
Gu Xing deliberately splashed in the puddle to make more noise, working in seamless coordination with his subordinates. Using the same method, they successively eliminated the second and third attackers.
The remaining two assassins, seeing the situation turn against them, went into hiding and no longer showed themselves.
The injured guard also thought of this and volunteered: “I’ll act as bait to draw out those two.”
Zhao Yān worriedly said, “You’re injured. It’s too dangerous.”
“Your Highness, don’t worry. I’ve followed Commander Gu for many years, and we have this level of understanding. Being able to fight alongside Your Highness makes this life worthwhile!”
With that, the guard quickly moved forward, took out a fire starter he had taken from one of the assassins’ bodies, lit it, and shouted: “I surrender, don’t kill me!”
Two cold arrows shot out, which the guard barely dodged as he continued to lure the enemy.
Two more cold arrows flew out. Gu Xing, having determined the direction of the arrows, gripped his sword and silently circled to approach.
The hidden archer raised his arm to nock another arrow, aiming at the exhausted guard below, completely unaware that Gu Xing had climbed onto the stone platform and circled behind him.
A cold sensation at his neck—the archer’s eyes widened as he fell from the platform, silent forever.
Seeing the tide had turned, the last assassin immediately turned to flee toward the exit.
Zhao Yān knew that if he escaped, he would certainly go back to report and seek reinforcements. She called out sharply: “Gu Xing!”
Gu Xing raised his sword and threw it. The blade flew through the air, and the man fell with a cry.
Once confirmed that all the assassins had been dealt with, Zhao Yān quickly stepped forward and grabbed the barely-alive assassin: “Where is the heir of Prince Yong?”
The assassin trembled but remained silent. Just as he was about to bite his tongue to commit suicide, the Eastern Palace guards efficiently dislocated his jaw.
Zhao Yān sheathed her short dagger and instructed the guards, “Tie him up and leave him here. He can serve as a witness later.”
With the obstacles cleared, they continued forward. Not far ahead, the air gradually freshened, and a faint dark blue light appeared in the distance.
Zhao Yān supported herself against the stone wall as she exited the secret passage. The stuffy mountain wind hit her face. By the faint moonlight leaking through the thick clouds, she realized she had passed through the mountain’s interior to reach an unfamiliar suburban area.
The wind stirred the forest trees, sounding like harsh laughter. Several figures were sitting around a campfire, resting.
Seeing Zhao Yān’s group emerge safely, Zhao Yuan’yu was shocked and fled in panic.
Zhao Yān gripped the lotus-patterned jade pendant at her waist and said hoarsely, “Stop!”
How could Zhao Yuan’yu dare to stop? He led his few remaining guards in a wild run, disappearing into the dilapidated streets at the end of the road.
A storm was approaching, with no starlight or moonlight. Someone’s broken lantern had been blown down by the wind, smashing against a cracked boundary stone by the roadside. The words “Liu Family Charitable Estate” could faintly be seen.
The Liu clan had fallen during last year’s rebel army purge. The charitable residences along the street were desolate and empty—perfect hiding places for rats.
Gu Xing protected Zhao Yān from the front, gripping his sword as he said: “Your Highness, their tracks disappeared as soon as they entered the estate. They must be hiding in the darkness.”
As if confirming his words, the sound of dry branches breaking came from behind.
Zhao Yān turned around to see Zhao Yuan’yu, who had just been fleeing in panic, now approaching with a sinister smile, deliberately stepping on and crushing the broken lantern beneath his foot.
“You persistent ghost, you dared to follow. When did you become so brave?”
Zhao Yuan’yu raised his hand in a signal, and guards from Prince Yong’s estate surrounded them from all four sides of the street, each with a fierce look in their eyes.
On the second floor of the charitable estate’s post house, Wenren Lin stood in the darkness with his hands behind his back, looking down through a broken window that rattled in the wind.
He had galloped here following the tracks, arriving just in time for this spectacle.
Seeing how outnumbered the young Crown Prince was, his elegant and exquisite clothes somewhat disheveled from the long journey, Zhang Cang couldn’t help asking: “My Lord, shall I lead men to help…”
Before he could finish, Cai Tian elbowed him, shaking his head to signal him not to speak further.
Outside, the wind howled fiercely, but Wenren Lin remained motionless in the darkness. His face was as still as water, his ink-colored eyes coldly fixed on that slender confronting figure, showing no emotion.
Zhang Cang felt an inexplicable chill and swallowed the unfinished words: This time, the prince might truly be angry.
Zhao Yān estimated Zhao Yuan’yu’s forces—about six or seven men. Fighting might offer a chance of survival. Letting him go would be like releasing a tiger back to the mountain, leaving endless trouble.
Zhao Yān asked Gu Xing: “Can you still fight?”
Gu Xing and the others responded without hesitation: “We would go through fire and water for Your Highness!”
“Good.”
Zhao Yān’s eyes showed resilience as she stepped forward into the wind and called out to Prince Yong’s guards: “Assassinating the Crown Prince of the Great Xuan is a capital offense that would condemn nine generations of your family. If you won’t think of yourselves, think of your wives, children, and relatives. I know you brave men are under duress and forced to follow Zhao Yuan’yu. If you lay down your weapons and help me capture this villain, you will be richly rewarded!”
The guards were not assassins. Hearing Zhao Yān’s words, several of the more timid ones began to waver.
“He’s lying! He’s not the Crown Prince!”
Seeing the guards take a step back, Zhao Yuan’yu panicked. He drew a guard’s sword and pointed it at Zhao Yān, saying viciously: “Kill him! When I become the Crown Prince, you will all be meritorious officials who followed the dragon, all ennobled as marquises! Only I can give you everything you want!”
In the current situation, it all depended on whose offered benefits were more enticing. The deranged Zhao Yuan’yu had reached the pinnacle of selling official positions and titles.
As blades clashed, torrential rain began to fall.
On the post house’s upper floor, Wenren Lin listened to the patter of rain on the eaves and frowned almost imperceptibly.
He slowly rubbed the jade-inlaid ring on his index finger with his thumb, lowering his gaze without moving.
Racing here, Wenren Lin had thought of hundreds of ways to punish the little princess for her disobedience, wanting nothing more than to lock her by his side so she could no longer tell lies or run around freely…
But now, seeing her frail figure standing against Zhao Yuan’yu, he became calm.
Beneath the calm exterior lay an irrepressible surge of emotion.
Wenren Lin wanted to see how much courage Zhao Yān had prepared to face the truth despite defying him to involve herself in this case, and how long she could persist without regretting and whimpering.
When that time came, he would leisurely step forward to properly appreciate the tears streaming down her beautiful, fragile face.
BOOM—
Thunder crashed, lightning tore a ghastly white gash through the rainy night.
Gu Xing was pinned down, turning back to cut down an enemy rushing forward, and shouted to Zhao Yān in the distance: “Your Highness!”
The overwhelming sound of rain swept in. Zhao Yān stood with clenched fists, letting the rainwater roll down her cheeks and drip from her jaw.
Another lightning bolt struck, illuminating Zhao Yuan’yu’s ferocious and terrifying face in a deathly white.
Zhao Yān unhooked the lotus-patterned jade pendant from her waist, holding it high before her eyes, and asked the advancing Zhao Yuan’yu: “Why was this in your possession?”
Zhao Yuan’yu looked closely and instinctively felt for his empty waist. At this point, he no longer concealed anything and laughed wickedly: “Why… Zhao Yǎn, oh Zhao Yǎn, are you truly ignorant or just pretending? You, sickly and weak like a chicken, gasping every three steps and resting every five, yet just because you were the Emperor’s only son, everyone coddled you and accommodated you. The position of Crown Prince fell into your hands without any effort—how unfair!
While I, whatever I wanted, I had to fight for it with my abilities. This trophy is mine, just as the position of heir apparent will be mine!”
“…Trophy?”
Zhao Yān keenly detected the keyword and asked solemnly, “So it was you who assassinated the Crown Prince?”
“What if it was me!”
Zhao Yuan’yu wiped the rain from his face and said maliciously, “If you had been content to be a short-lived medicine pot, it would have been fine. But you had to reform land taxes, promote scholars of humble origin, and cut back on the nobility, putting on the facade of a benevolent and virtuous ruler. Always trying to be a head taller than me here, pressing me down a level there, wanting nothing more than to rub my face in the dirt, gathering friends and showing off your power!”
Zhao Yān pressed her lips together: “You couldn’t stand to see the Crown Prince’s rise to power, so the students at Mingde Academy who were about to enter court service through the palace examination—you killed them too?”
Zhao Yuan’yu displayed a contemptuous expression of complete indifference, snorting: “This prince has eliminated so many troublesome people, who knows which dog you’re referring to?”
Zhao Yuan’yu showed impatient frenzy, raising his sword and shouting: “Blame yourself, Zhao Yǎn. You should have… died on the way back from the palace!”
Lightning flashed, thunder roared, ghostly shadows gathered.
Zhao Yān raised her hand to grip the sheath of the short dagger at her waist and asked hoarsely, one word at a time: “So, it was you who killed them.”
“Trying to buy time? Unfortunately, this suburban wasteland isn’t like the palace journey—there’s no one to die in your place. I didn’t kill you last year, but it’s not too late to do it now!”
Zhao Yuan’yu laughed wildly, raising his sword to viciously slash at Zhao Yān’s neck.
Gu Xing was surrounded by several men and couldn’t break free. He could only shout painfully: “Your Highness, run!”
In Zhao Yuan’yu’s impression, Crown Prince Zhao Yǎn was weak, incapable of tying a chicken.
So when that slender figure raised a dagger to block his fatal strike, Zhao Yuan’yu stood dumbfounded.
Zhao Yān’s eyes reflected the cold light of the blade, like molten magma surging beneath ice.
Though her hand was numb from the impact, she seemed not to notice. One thought screamed through her mind: Kill him!
Kill Zhao Yuan’yu to avenge her brother!
“Your Highness’s strength is naturally insufficient; techniques should rely on agility to win. If retreat is impossible and a desperate fight is necessary, attack the opponent’s weaknesses in one swift assault, never giving them a chance to recover or breathe…”
The slow, clear demonstration movements of Wenren Lin in the training field behind Chongwen Hall were still before her eyes.
She held her breath, twisting the short dagger in her hand and fiercely striking at Zhao Yuan’yu!
On the post house’s upper floor, Zhang Cang and Cai Tian both showed astonishment.
Neither had expected that in this life-or-death moment, the tired and frail young boy could explode with such force.
“A long sword against a short blade—difficult to win.”
Zhang Cang shook his head and sighed: “The heir of Prince Yong deliberately provokes and humiliates. The little Crown Prince is somewhat too impulsive.”
Wenren Lin’s eyes reflected the damp light of rain, but he didn’t speak.
Every strike of Zhao Yān’s was within his expectations, yet the decisiveness and tenacity with which she swung the dagger were beyond what he had anticipated.
He recognized whose techniques Zhao Yān was using and also recalled a similar rainy night many years ago, when a boy not yet sixteen lay in a pile of putrid corpses, identifying his father’s and brothers’ bodies one by one with despair and hatred.
Zhang Cang said the little prince was too impulsive, but that was because he had never experienced the blood-vomiting pain of loved ones dying violently.
Wenren Lin had already forgotten the source of his initial rage.
The rain was too heavy; he couldn’t see Zhao Yān’s expression, couldn’t tell if the little prince was crying from pain.
He was growing somewhat tired of this boring spectacle.
Wenren Lin stepped forward, placing his hand on the windowsill, then suddenly paused. His black, cold gaze pierced through the rain curtain, shooting directly toward the house opposite.
As a fellow hunter, he smelled the stench of a wild beast.
…
No relaxation, no hesitation! Zhao Yān desperately swung the short dagger in her hand.
One strike, two strikes—successive techniques came like a fierce storm, blades clashed, rain splashed. Zhao Yuan’yu was forced to retreat repeatedly by those chaotic but furious moves, barely raising his sword to shield himself. The contempt in his eyes changed to shock, then transformed into terror!
His sword soon developed notches, then with a crisp “ding,” the blade broke into two pieces under Zhao Yān’s relentless assault.
Having lost his weapon, Zhao Yuan’yu was like a defeated dog with its claws and fangs removed, whimpering as he fell to the ground.
“You… you’re not Zhao Yǎn?”
He finally realized this issue—the “young boy” before him showed no trace of timidity or mercy, but was composed and persistent, like Zhao Yǎn, yet unlike Zhao Yǎn.
Zhao Yuan’yu screamed as if seeing a ghost, struggling to crawl forward, only to be stomped flat to the ground by Zhao Yān’s foot, helplessly flailing his limbs.
“No, don’t…”
Zhao Yuan’yu trembled as he looked back, his pupils contracting.
In the lightning, Zhao Yān raised the short dagger in her hand—Zhao Yǎn’s dagger—without any hesitation and stabbed fiercely toward Zhao Yuan’yu’s back.
She had no strength left, her hand shaking violently. This strike was broken free by Zhao Yuan’yu’s struggle, only cutting a bloody gash on his filthy body.
But that didn’t stop her from raising the dagger a second time.
Zhao Yuan’yu screamed miserably, stretching his hand forward through tears and mucus, as if begging for help from some demon hiding in the darkness: “Save me, save me…”
With a face full of terror, he shouted hoarsely: “How long will you wait, Chou Zui—!”
A thunderous boom.
Accompanying the earth-shaking sound was a tall, thin figure nearly nine feet high that fell before them.
He crouched in front of Zhao Yuan’yu, splashing muddy water droplets all around. With long arms and legs, he squatted there. Under his worn bamboo hat, an old scar curled from his left eyebrow across his hawk-like nose to his right cheek. His eyes revealed a numb lifelessness.
Zhao Yān only needed one glance at those lifeless eyes and to hear this familiar name to be unable to control her whole body’s trembling.
Hidden in the darkness was Zhao Yuan’yu’s trump card.
Chou Zui…
The Chou Zui whom her brother had rescued from death row…
“Chou Zui, kill him! Kill him for me!” Zhao Yuan’yu shouted behind him.
Chou Zui numbly scratched the criminal tattoo on the back of his neck, raised his hand to press down his damaged bamboo hat to cover the criminal mark on his forehead, then stood up and walked toward Zhao Yān.
His shadow cast on the wall looked like a lurking beast or a jumping ghost.
As the deadly footsteps approached, Zhao Yān stared with widened eyes like a fawn with its throat gripped, her body losing the strength to stand.
She heard clanging sounds and only after a moment realized that the source was from herself—she was shaking, the violent tremors causing the short dagger in her hand to strike against the tiles, producing continuous trembling sounds.
It was absolute death pressure. Zhao Yān could even feel the thick blood scent emanating from the opponent, stimulating her very soul to tremble.
Shadow looming, Chou Zui looked down at her. His still eyes moved slightly before he slowly brought his hands behind his back, gripping two curved knives wrapped in tattered cloth strips.
Zhao Yān clenched her teeth and raised the short dagger in her hand, only to see Chou Zui remain silent for a moment before lightly flicking his finger.
The dagger flew from her powerless hand, stabbing directly into a crack in the ground.
Almost simultaneously, a figure leaped down from the upper floor, striking a palm toward Chou Zui’s chest.
The fierce wind shook, and rain droplets shattered.
Chou Zui opened his eyes, instinctively raising his arms crossed before his chest to block, but was struck back repeatedly by the immense impact force. His back crashed against the wall with a bang, creating spider-web-like cracks.
Chou Zui extricated himself from the dented earthen wall, raised his arm to press against the back of his neck with a crackling adjustment, and spat out a bloody mouthful.
The immortal-like figure in crimson robes gracefully withdrew his hand, removing a dark cloak from his body, shaking it open, and wrapping it around the trembling Zhao Yān behind him.
Wenren Lin stepped through the rain to retrieve the little princess’s short dagger, dispatching two of Prince Yong’s guards who rushed forward in the process. Only then did he carefully wipe the blood from the blade with his sleeve, returning the dagger to Zhao Yān’s cold hand.
“It’s alright now, everything’s fine.”
Wenren Lin crouched down on one knee, his thumb carefully wiping away the rainwater from the corner of Zhao Yān’s eye, gently instructing: “Breathe.”
Zhao Yān stared blankly, her stalled breathing finally beginning to function. Air mixed with rainwater rushed into her nose and mouth, choking her into a bent coughing fit.
Wenren Lin lowered his eyes, taking her trembling, powerless, slender body into his arms, casually patting her back to help her breathe.
“P-Prince Su.”
Zhao Yuan’yu knew a terrifying deity he couldn’t afford to offend had arrived and hurriedly urged Chou Zui: “Go, quick!”
“Don’t run!”
Zhao Yān gasped heavily, shouting fiercely, “Don’t run!”
With her last ounce of strength, filled with hatred, she threw the short dagger in her hand toward Zhao Yuan’yu!
Chou Zui grabbed Zhao Yuan’yu and leaped onto the earthen wall, disappearing into the night with a few bounds.
The short dagger only managed to graze Chou Zui’s coarse black arm, leaving a trace of blood as it embedded itself in the cracked earthen wall.
Zhang Cang and Cai Tian immediately gave chase.
Just one step away, just one step!
“Catch him…”
Zhao Yān, with wet red eyes, clutched Wenren Lin’s immaculate collar like a drowning person, crying out in near despair: “Grand Tutor, help me kill him!”
Though she called it a cry, it was only a broken whisper due to extreme exhaustion.
The taut string in her heart finally snapped, and the noisy rain suddenly fell silent.
The last thing Zhao Yān sensed was the faint woody fragrance as she collapsed into Wenren Lin’s arms.
Her vision darkened, and she lost consciousness.