The others relaxed after seeing their companion catch Han Yan, feeling somewhat fatigued from the chase. They joked, “We can’t let you enjoy this alone. Let the brothers have a taste too.”

In the Western Rong culture, where customs were liberal, keeping young male companions was not uncommon. They mistook Han Yan for a beautiful youth and harbored evil intentions, thinking that since this was someone marked for death anyway, they might as well take their pleasure. The large man who had caught Han Yan was slightly apart from the others.

In his mind, Han Yan was now helpless prey, so he let his guard down. He crouched down, laughing lecherously as he tried to undo Han Yan’s clothes while she scrambled backward in fear. Seeing her reaction only aroused him further. Han Yan stumbled backward, while the others watched the scene with keen interest.

The large man laughed heartily, enjoying this game of cat and mouse, unhurriedly pursuing her. When Han Yan was breathless and he felt the game had gone on long enough, he gave a vicious grin and lunged forward to tear at her clothes. But suddenly, he saw a flash of cold intent in the clear eyes of this fair youth, and then his left eye exploded in pain as blood gushed forth.

A piercing scream scattered the birds from the forest. The others were startled by this sudden turn of events, only to see Han Yan gripping a bloodied plum blossom needle, her eyes gleaming with murderous intent.

The large man clutched his left eye, blood seeping between his fingers. He never imagined this seemingly helpless youth would suddenly strike, blinding his eye. Giving him no time to recover, Han Yan pivoted and delivered a kick, sending him screaming into the bottomless ravine.

She had painstakingly and subtly led him to the cliff’s edge to ensure success. Chai Jing had once said that when killing, the method doesn’t matter. What matters is ensuring the kill.

She tucked the bloody plum blossom needle into her sleeve, bent to pick up the fallen broadsword, and coldly faced down the remaining men.

Even in death, she would take some with her. Her gaze was fierce, her clothes spattered with blood, some drops staining her face, making her complexion appear even more stark white. The shocking red against pure white created a striking contrast. At the cliff’s edge, she stood alone, wielding the broadsword. The wind tousled her disheveled hair, but the maiden remained motionless – neither retreating, nor fleeing, nor crying out – like an avenging spirit risen from hell.

For a moment, none dared to move.

Perhaps one finally saw clearly: “This is a woman!”

The others looked closer, all uncertain now. If this was a woman, then she couldn’t be the Crown Prince of Da Zong. Who was this woman?

“Who are you?” one asked.

Han Yan suddenly threw back her head and laughed. Never in her life had she laughed so wildly, knowing that even if these men realized she wasn’t the Crown Prince, they wouldn’t spare her. They would likely capture her to force information about the Prince’s whereabouts. She would never tell, not just for the Prince’s sake, but also for Zhuang Han Ming’s. Since death was inevitable today no matter what, what was the point in being polite?

“I am the Crown Prince of Da Zong,” she declared.

Her movements were steady and composed, showing remarkable poise. Even these hardened criminals, who had lived long lives, had never encountered such a young woman. Though a maiden of delicate build, she acted with the wisdom of someone who had experienced all of life’s vicissitudes – clever, ruthless, yet emanating an innate noble bearing that commanded respect.

Who was she?

They now believed this young woman was no ordinary person, possibly even of royal blood. Realizing they had been outmaneuvered by this girl, even losing several companions, their anger flared. One shouted, “Then forfeit your life!” and charged with his sword raised.

Meanwhile, in the cave, the Crown Prince trembled nervously as footsteps approached from outside, seemingly more numerous than before. He glanced at the unconscious Zhuang Han Ming, unsure if they could escape their fate. Han Yan had traded her life to buy them a chance, but even this path seemed treacherous. Thinking of Han Yan made his heart ache – Lord Wang would be heartbroken when he learned of this.

As he pondered, the footsteps drew near. The Crown Prince clenched his jaw, his eyes filled with despair.

A hand parted the undergrowth covering the cave entrance.

The sky seemed to darken, and cold wind gusted through the opening. The Crown Prince felt chilled to the bone, his teeth chattering. Then a voice came with the wind: “It’s me.”

Warmth suddenly returned.

As if grasping a lifeline, the Crown Prince felt his anxiety instantly fade: “Lord Wang!”

Fu Yun Xi patted his back reassuringly, his gaze falling on Zhuang Han Ming. When he spoke again, his voice was deathly cold: “Where is she?”

Who was “she”? The Crown Prince knew Fu Yun Xi meant Han Yan. Biting his lip, he raised his head and tremblingly pointed in a direction: “She went that way.”

Without another word, Fu Yun Xi ordered several guards to protect the Prince and mounted his horse.

“Lord Wang!” the Crown Prince suddenly called from behind. Fu Yun Xi turned his head. The young Prince’s gaze was uncertain but hopeful: “She’s still alive, isn’t she?”

Fu Yun Xi said nothing, silently cracking his whip. The horse galloped away, carrying the white-robed man whose calm gaze belied the emotion revealed by his tightly pressed lips.

Han Yan, you must live.

On the cliff top, the air reeked of blood and filth. Two of the seven men were dead, these towering brutes felled by the sword of this unmarried girl. They had never seen such a fearless maiden – though “maiden” seemed too generous. When her outer robe was cast aside, her thin frame revealed she was barely more than a child. Yet how could a child have such bloodthirsty eyes, as if they were all already dead men?

In the heart-stopping confrontation, Han Yan was already covered in wounds. When one brute saw her weakening, he struck heavily from behind. Her heart seemed to shudder, and Han Yan crashed to the ground, blood spraying like mist. As she struggled to stand, another man immediately kicked the back of her knee. Her legs gave way, and she fell to her knees. She raised her head, her face covered in gore, nothing like her usually obedient and lovely self.

In this world, life is the one thing beyond our control. A mocking smile crossed Han Yan’s lips. Despite all her careful planning, she couldn’t escape a fatal end. Was Heaven playing tricks on her? Why give her a second chance at life? She hated the injustice of Heaven, hated those who harmed her. But now, was she truly to die? Using the few moves Chai Jing had taught her and her desperate resolve to fight to the death, she managed to kill two men without hesitation.