Chapter Three

Lying face down on the bed as the maid applied medicine to her wounds, Yixiao kept whimpering, "Ouch! Be gentler..." By the time the ordeal was over, both the medicator and the patient were drenched in sweat. The maid carefully draped a brocade quilt over her, bowed respectfully, then quickly closed the door behind her as she withdrew.

Dazed and still prone, Yixiao heard the door creak open. Without turning her head, she grumbled, "Can we not use this quilt? It's heavy as iron—it's pressing on my wounds and making them hurt worse!" After a moment of silence, Xia Jingshi's voice came from behind her, "This prince thought Yixiao didn't feel pain." "Ah—!" Startled, Yixiao jerked upright before collapsing back with a pained cry. Through gritted teeth, she snapped, "Has Your Highness come to mock me?"

Xia Jingshi approached slowly, tossing a porcelain vial onto the bedding. "This is premium bruise ointment. Heal quickly so you can rise—I haven't seen you try that Silver Bow I gave you yet. I wonder if it suits your grip." Hearing his gentle tone, Yixiao nearly burst into tears, biting her knuckle to force them back. A shadow moved beside her, and suddenly the finger between her teeth was pulled free. "Look at you—it's turning purple from your biting. Do you truly not feel pain, or are you pretending?" As he spoke, Xia Jingshi uncorked the vial, scooping out some ointment to apply carefully between her fingers. "You're too impulsive. If I hadn't punished you yesterday, the decree envoy would have reported you to the Holy Emperor upon his return. Then it wouldn't just be a beating you'd face."

She stared blankly at his profile—his soaring yet gentle brows, the severity in his straight nose, those hawk-sharp black eyes. His thin lips often held a smile, but people said those with thin lips were fickle in love... Abruptly, she withdrew her hand to wrap both arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest. "Your Highness, can't you refuse the marriage alliance?"

Xia Jingshi didn't push her away immediately, only patting her back lightly. "Speaking such words again? Was yesterday's beating not enough?" "But—" Ignoring her wounds' protest, she blurted out, "Yixiao is willing to be Your Highness's concubine, slave, or maid—anything! Just don't go!"

Xia Jingshi chuckled derisively. "How modest—aiming no higher than concubine. Enough jokes. The Holy Emperor's decree is issued. Once you've healed, assist Weiran and the others in preparing my luggage. In six months at most, I depart for Su Sha—" "I'm not joking!" Her arms tightened stubbornly. "For three years, Yixiao has admired Your Highness—"

His hand stilled against her back. "You know full well—through all our campaigns these years, through life-and-death battles, you've regarded me as an elder brother, just as I've seen you as a younger sister." Yixiao interrupted with a cold laugh, "Perhaps only Your Highness thinks so. Yixiao has always—" Before she could finish, Xia Jingshi shoved her away violently, sending her crashing into the corner of the bed. Gripping the quilt against the sudden agony, she clenched her jaw against any cry, still lifting hopeful eyes to him. "Your Highness could take me now if you wish—only don't wed that so-called princess...""Fu Yixiao, don't you understand?" Xia Jingshi's deep eyes swept over her from head to toe. "This prince needs no fetters or shackles. And with your persistence and extraordinary talent, the degree to which you intensify these constraints goes far beyond what mere words like 'fetters' and 'shackles' can describe. That is the greatest impossibility between you and me."

Yixiao protested unwillingly, her voice low, "But Yixiao truly loves Your Highness!"

"Truly?" He smiled, his eyes devoid of any warmth. "Whether you love or not is your own affair—what does it have to do with me?" With that, he tossed the porcelain vial back onto the quilt and strode out without another word.

Yixiao closed her eyes, feeling her heart slowly crack apart. Her dignity had been trampled into fragments, each piece trembling on her lashes before falling with her tears.

Pain—piercing, bone-deep pain. Even the wounds she had suffered on the battlefield had never hurt this much. Death might have been better than this—this wretched, shameful self-loathing, the humiliation of her naked emotions, and a heart cruelly ravaged.

"Yixiao, don't be childish," Xiao Weiran coaxed gently, but Fu Yixiao continued packing without pause. "What does it matter if His Highness punishes you once? Even Weiran and I have been punished before." Ning Fei also tried to persuade her, but Yixiao shot him a glare and stepped around him to grab the arrow case on the table.

"Hey," Ning Fei blocked her hand. "Just wait a little longer. I've already sent someone to fetch His Highness. If you won't listen to us, surely you'll listen to him?" Yixiao finally stopped moving. "He knows I'm leaving. He won't come."

Xiao Weiran frowned. "His Highness knows? How do you know he won't come?"

"Yes," Yixiao replied, fastening the arrow case to her back. "I've already resigned from my post, and he approved it."

"Impossible!" Ning Fei paced anxiously. "How could His Highness let you resign over something so trivial?"

Yixiao said nothing. Xiao Weiran, seeing the dimness in her eyes, seemed to understand and stopped Ning Fei. "Enough. Don't push her."

Ning Fei stamped his foot. "Yixiao was the one I recommended to the royal guard. Didn't you always say her talent was rare? If we don't stop her, are we just going to watch her leave like this?"

By then, Yixiao had finished packing. She slung the Silver Bow from the wall onto her back and turned around with her usual cheerful grin. "Alright, no more having to smell you rough men all day." She walked up to them and punched each in the chest. "Don't look so grim. When you take leave to go home, you'll still see me—I haven't had your wedding wine yet, so don't keep me waiting too long!" With a carefree wave, she strode out.

Four months later.

On a winding mountain path, three hundred black-armored imperial guards escorted a grand carriage, moving slowly forward. At the head of the procession, a banner embroidered with golden thread bore the character "Xia"—this was the Brocade Dynasty's wedding procession, sent to Vermilion Sand Country to fetch the bride.

Behind the drawn curtains of the spacious carriage, Xia Jingshi reclined against the cushions, his eyes lightly closed, a half-read scroll still in his hand.

Ning Fei rode back from the front of the procession. "Your Highness, once we pass the gorge ahead, we'll be nearing the border of Vermilion Sand Country. Their escort should already be waiting there."

Xia Jingshi didn't open his eyes, merely giving a soft hum of acknowledgment. Ning Fei bowed and returned to his post.Previously, during marches, Fu Yixiao would scout ahead, Xiao Weiran would accompany the central army, and Ning Fei would bring up the rear. After Fu Yixiao resigned in anger, Xia Jingshi had not appointed anyone to fill the vacant Captain position. Thus, for this journey, he had to assign Ning Fei as the vanguard and leave all other matters to Xiao Weiran.

Thinking of Yixiao, Xia Jingshi frowned. Perhaps his words that day had indeed been too harsh. When she came to him after recovering from her injuries and said she wanted to resign and return home, he thought she was just being stubborn and agreed without hesitation. Yet the next day, she truly handed over her seal and official robes and left Lucheng.

On the day she left, he watched her from the city tower. Had she turned back, he would have sent someone to bring her back. But that stubborn girl never once glanced back at Lucheng.

Like Ning Fei and Xiao Weiran, Yixiao could be a loyal subordinate, a comrade who had faced life and death alongside him, even a friend he could entrust his life to. But to force the word "love" into this bond—how could he possibly accept that?

Love was a demon clad in resplendent robes, disguising its ugliness with beautiful attire. As it slowly approached, it would bewitch a person entirely, making them eagerly reach out to welcome it. Yet once it stole their heart, it would reveal its true nature—indifferent to their sorrow, deaf to their pleas—and gradually drift away. Rather than suffer such pain again, it was better to comply with the Holy Emperor's arrangement: marry Princess Xiyang of Vermilion Sand Country and secure lasting peace between the two nations.

A sharp whistle pierced the sky. Xia Jingshi's eyes snapped open as he flung aside the hanging curtain with lightning speed.

A cavalry Captain galloped toward him. "Your Highness, we've encountered an ambush ahead—the enemy's numbers are unknown—" Before he could finish, a feathered arrow whistled through the air, piercing his shoulder with such force that it flung him off the mountain path. His startled horse neighed wildly and bolted backward, dragging the reins behind it.

Xia Jingshi's gaze fixed on the arrow protruding from the officer's back. His pupils contracted as he looked up toward the direction from which the arrow had come.

Amid the howling wind, Fu Yixiao's loose black hair whipped wildly as she stared resolutely at him. In her slender hands was a Silver Bow he knew all too well—its string still humming, though no arrow was nocked.

Leaping from the carriage, Xia Jingshi ground his teeth and ordered the guards shielding him, "Bring me a bow!" A Powerful Bow was swiftly passed to him. He steadied it, fitted an Iron Arrow, and aimed at the slender figure on the cliffside. "Put down that bow!" he barked.

Ning Fei and Xiao Weiran had arrived by then. Seeing the standoff, Xiao Weiran quickly stepped forward, subtly blocking the fully drawn bow. "Yixiao! Stop this nonsense—come down and beg His Highness for forgiveness!"

But she only flashed a radiant smile, drew another arrow from her quiver, and pulled the bowstring taut. "I'm already dead either way—if you want to reach Vermilion Sand Country today, you'll have to step over my corpse!"

Ning Fei broke into a cold sweat. "Yixiao, have you lost your mind?!" He took a step forward—only for the bowstring to twang. Amid the soldiers' gasps, Yixiao's arrow embedded itself in the ground an inch from his foot, its shaft still quivering. When they looked back at her, she had already nocked another arrow, her expression cold and unreadable.Xiao Weiran's face turned pale, just as he was about to speak, Xia Jingshi turned on his heel and stepped out from behind him. "Your Highness!" Ning Fei's exclamation rang out as Xia Jingshi released the bowstring. The Iron Arrow whistled through the air and in an instant pierced through her shoulder blade. Fu Yixiao staggered from the force of the arrow and fell to the ground.

"Seize her," Xia Jingshi commanded coldly, throwing the bow and arrow to the ground before turning to board the carriage. The curtains swiftly fell closed behind him.