Fiery morning clouds had appeared on the horizon, with streaks of clear, brilliant red light slanting across the sky. Huang Zixia urgently spurred her horse on, finally catching up with the prince’s guard escort formation as the city gates came into view.

At Chang’an’s Mingde Gate, of the five tall entrances, the middle three were originally closed, with only the two side gates open. However, upon seeing the prince’s procession arrive, they immediately opened the second gate on the left for passage, not even bothering to inspect the procession.

Huang Zixia, positioned at the rear, slowly entered the city with the formation. As she passed through the gate, she glanced at the wanted posters posted there.

The poster showed the portrait of a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl, with eyes like morning stars and cheeks curved like peach petals, her gaze looking forward with a slight smile. The upturned corners of her lips formed a particularly playful and lovable curve, her expression light and graceful, brows clear and lifted—unmistakably a strikingly beautiful young woman.

Beside the portrait were several lines of text—

“Shu woman Huang Zixia, responsible for multiple murders, grievously evil. All provinces and prefectures shall arrest on sight, dead or alive.”

Huang Zixia lowered her eyelashes, but only for a brief moment before raising her head again, eyes straight ahead, composed.

With most of her face hidden within the helmet, even Brother Lu beside her couldn’t see her. While guiding his horse along the Vermillion Bird Street, he said, “Fortunately, no one noticed.”

Huang Zixia nodded without a word.

The royal princes’ residences were mostly in Yongjia Ward. After passing the East Market and following north along Xingqing Palace, Prince Kui’s mansion came into view.

According to the plan agreed upon with Brother Zhang, after entering the prince’s mansion and securing the horses in the stable, she would quietly slip away while everyone was having breakfast in the front courtyard of the stable, where no one would pay her much attention.

She tied up her horse and turned to hurry toward the courtyard exit when someone called out, “Zhang Xingying, aren’t you eating?”

Huang Zixia acted as if she hadn’t heard, slipping out along the wall by the door.

Behind her, Brother Lu explained on her behalf: “Don’t tell me it’s stomach trouble again. That’s twice already this morning.”

The group laughed a few times before dismissing it, each going to eat their prepared breakfast.

Huang Zixia slipped to the entrance, pulled her helmet low, and walked outward.

Just as her foot reached the last step of the stairs, suddenly someone called from behind: “Hey, where are you going?”

Huang Zixia wasn’t sure if they were calling her, her foot hesitating mid-air, then heard the voice clearly continue: “Yes, you, from the escort formation. Just got word that the newly completed detached palace is short-staffed, you’ll be accompanying the prince there.”

Huang Zixia’s heart sank, not expecting such bad luck.

The person continued with a laugh: “Don’t worry, you’ll get three extra silver coins for the day. Aren’t you bubbling with joy? Hurry back and eat, we’re leaving soon.”

Huang Zixia had no choice but to slowly turn around, bow to the leader who had stopped her, and then return to the stable’s front courtyard along the wall. She definitely couldn’t eat breakfast—if anyone saw her face, everything would be ruined. Yet she couldn’t stay in the prince’s mansion either, being discovered would also spell disaster. Moreover, she had to get out to find the person who could help her—

She stood in the corner, her gaze falling on the carriage that had been unhitched and was now leaning against the wall. Blinking, she looked around—the front courtyard was noisy with people eating, while those in the back were busy feeding the horses. The corner by the entrance was empty, with only her and the carriage there.

She stepped onto the shaft, carefully peered through the partially open carriage door, and found it empty except for spacious seats and a fixed tea table. The seats were covered with blue-green kui dragon brocade cushions, complementing the scarlet peonies on the dark purple Persian velvet carpet below—luxurious yet elegant, newly laid, and unlikely to be changed.

Huang Zixia quickly removed her uniform and helmet in the back of the carriage, stuffing them behind a stone lantern, then climbed into the carriage.

The carriage wasn’t very spacious, but there had to be space under the seats, usually made into cabinets for storage. She crawled in, lifted the curtain hanging from the seat, and sure enough found cabinets below.

The cabinet doors were carved with numerous auspicious clouds and beasts, sliding left and right. When she opened them, she was delighted to find only a few pieces of incense inside, otherwise empty.

She struggled to curl up inside the cabinet, quietly sliding the door closed, sweating from nervousness. Fortunately, the cabinet doors were latticed, and with the curtain hanging down to cover the openings, she could only vaguely see shadows outside.

Not daring to breathe loudly, Huang Zixia lay quietly, hearing her rapid heartbeat. Countless thoughts flashed through her mind—what to do if taken to the detached palace, whether the stables there would be strictly guarded if she could find a chance to escape…

Before she could think it through, sounds came from outside. Harnessing horses, adjusting clothes, forming ranks. Then sudden silence, not even a cough. While she was still pondering, the carriage moved slightly, the door opened with a soft sound, and someone got in.

Through the cabinet gaps, she could only see the person’s feet in black leather boots embroidered with gold kui patterns, stepping silently on the thick soft carpet.

Once the person settled, the carriage swayed slightly and began moving.

Confined in the cabinet for a long time, plus the swaying motion, she felt like a chick stuffed back into its eggshell. Huang Zixia fought against the dizziness, forcing herself to slow her breathing to avoid detection.

Fortunately, the rattling of the carriage covered her heartbeat and breathing.

The journey was long, but they finally passed through the city gates, heading toward the western suburbs. After much jolting along the way, when they reached a small bridge, Prince Kui finally spoke: “Stop.”

The carriage slowly stopped by the bridge. From her position in the cabinet, Huang Zixia couldn’t see Prince Kui’s face, only saw him reach for a wide-mouthed glass bottle on the small table, passing it through the window: “Add some water.”

In the glass bottle, a bright red fish with a gauze-like long tail swam slowly. The bottle had a slight blue tint, making the bright red fish appear a mysterious light purple, showing a fascinating loveliness.

Huang Zixia couldn’t help but wonder why this immensely powerful Prince Kui would carry a glass bottle with a small redfish.

She heard the gurgling of water and the hurried footsteps of guards. Soon the glass bottle was returned, filled with water. Prince Kui placed it gently on the small table, where the fish, now with more space, swam more happily.

While Huang Zixia was lost in thought, the carriage started moving again. Caught off guard, her forehead hit the cabinet door with a thud.

She bit her lip hard to prevent crying out. She was sure the sound was very small and should have been covered by the noise of the wheels, but she nervously peered through the gaps nonetheless.

From her angle, she couldn’t see the face of the person sitting there, only glimpsing through the hanging brocade tassels and latticed holes as he slowly reached for the celadon tea saucer on the table, lifting the teapot to pour a cup of water.

Huang Zixia observed him through the carved openings of the cabinet. In the backlight, she could see his hand—evenly proportioned knuckles slightly protruding, graceful curves, a hand both privileged and powerful. He held the saucer with three fingers, the blue-green dish in his fair hand like spring water reflecting pear blossoms.

Then he swiftly kicked with his toe, opening the cabinet below, and threw a saucer of water inside.

Huang Zixia, who had been secretly watching, had her eyes suddenly blinded by water and let out a soft cry of surprise.

He tossed aside the saucer, grabbed Huang Zixia’s shoulders, and dragged her out, his right hand pressing her throat, his left foot on her chest.

In an instant, Huang Zixia lay like a dead fish beneath his feet, remarkably, without him even having to stand up.

Huang Zixia lay looking up at him, so caught off guard she didn’t even understand what had happened, her expression slightly bewildered.

She saw the face of the person who had subdued her—eyes deep and dark as ink, nose straight and high, thin lips pressed together unconsciously showing a cold detachment from the world. He wore rain-washed sky-blue brocade robes embroidered with celestial water-blue cloud patterns, such gentle colors and designs appearing distant on him. In that casual indifference, one felt that only such cold detachment could complement such refined nobility.

Prince Kui Li Zi, courtesy name Shubai, the most outstanding figure in the current dynasty’s royal family—even the current Emperor praised him, saying “With Shubai in the world, it cannot be lonely.” Who would have thought this person at the pinnacle of nobility and splendor would have such a cool temperament.

Li Shubai lowered his eyelashes, slightly lifting his foot from her chest. Seeming to sense she had no martial arts skills, his left hand moved slightly on her neck, confirming the softness and delicacy of her throat, without an Adam’s apple.

Huang Zixia quickly raised her hand to push away his hand pressing her neck, alertly curling up, her bright eyes like spring dew staring intensely at him, like a young beast spotting a hunter.

Li Shubai’s gaze slowly fell on her face, studying it for a long while, then he withdrew his foot, pulled open the small table’s drawer to take out a snow-white silk handkerchief, wiped his hands, and threw it at her, saying with slight disgust: “As a woman, at least keep yourself clean.”

The silk handkerchief fell on her like a cloud, slow and silent. She slowly curled her fingers, and before shame at being discovered, fury welled up in her heart. She looked up at the person before her, opened her lips, but couldn’t say anything.

All the way from Shu to Chang’an, she had hidden her disguise very well, no one had ever suspected she was pretending to be a man, but now he had seen through her at a glance, and moreover, looked at her with such disdain.

Fleeing through the night, traveling day after day, she was indeed haggard. Her clothes had dried and gotten wet again, clinging wrinkled to her body, unrecognizable from their original state, her face wan and pale, hair disheveled, utterly bedraggled.

The commotion inside had already been noticed, and someone outside lightly knocked on the carriage wall: “Your Highness.”

He gave an “Mm” and said: “It’s nothing.”

The outside fell silent. As the carriage continued steadily forward, he asked calmly: “When did you get in? What are you doing hiding in my carriage?”

Her eyelashes flickered slightly as various excuses flashed through her mind. In an instant, she chose the briefest and most convincing explanation, then coyly lowered her lashes, gently bit her lower lip, with a faint blush seemingly appearing on her cheeks, and said softly: “I am… Zhang Xingying’s cousin’s sister from his escort unit. Today in the suburbs, he had severe stomach pain but feared punishment for delaying his duty. Since my home is nearby and I was passing by, he asked me to disguise myself as him to answer the roll call.”

“Then how did you end up in my carriage?”

“Because… I was supposed to slip away once I reached the prince’s mansion, but I was stopped and told to accompany the group to the detached palace. Since I would be discovered if anyone saw me, in desperation, I chose this poor solution, hiding in your carriage, hoping to find a chance to leave, but who knew… I would be caught red-handed…” Her face showed embarrassment and shyness as if she truly had to steel herself to say these words, appearing inexperienced and confused.

“It sounds reasonable enough,” he leaned against the brocade cushions, expression cool. “So what is your surname?”

Her heart sank slightly, but she answered without hesitation: “My surname is Yang.”

“Yang?” He smiled coldly, not even looking at her: “Zhang Xingying, second born, six feet one inch tall, left-handed, born in the second year of Dazhong in Puning Ward of the capital. Father Zhang Weiyi, originally from Luoyang, has been practicing medicine at Duanrui Hall in the capital since the second year of Huichang; mother née Feng, the only daughter of the Feng family from Xinchang Ward in the capital. Elder brother married a daughter of the Cheng family from Fengyi Ward in the capital a year ago, still without children—where did this cousin Yang come from?”