The night was deep, yet the skies above the Holy Gold Palace remained immersed in the melodies of strings and flutes. The distant moon hung high in the cold, casting a bleak and desolate glow. Though Zhenhuang City had never imposed a curfew, beyond Zǐwēi Square lay the imperial district—heavily guarded and deathly silent, especially at this hour, with few pedestrians in sight. Those who moved through here at such a time were certainly no ordinary folk.
A cavalry of over a hundred men formed a spindle-shaped formation, wide at the front and narrow at the rear. The clip-clop of hooves echoed through the quiet streets, growing increasingly distinct in the deep stillness of the night. Their armor gleamed coldly as they advanced. After the time it takes to burn half an incense stick, they did not take the main road into the imperial city but turned instead onto the patrol path along the city wall.
The central part of the cavalry was densely packed, with guards on both flanks holding tall shields. Two lanterns illuminated the front and rear, yet the center of the procession remained shrouded in darkness, making it impossible to discern clearly. Even so, the arrangement made it evident that someone of great importance was being protected at its core.
The vanguard at the front carried sharp weapons—long spears, war blades, and shields—ready for both offense and defense.
On either side, twenty cavalrymen stood like walls, guarding the center of the formation. Each held a war blade facing outward, clad in heavy armor that shimmered with a silvery-white glow, unmistakably forged from Western Region heavy plate. Even if arrows were shot from high walls or the roadside, they would be of little concern unless fired from heavy crossbows.
Such meticulous defenses were nearly impenetrable. Ever since Mu Hexifeng of the Muhe Clan had died under mysterious circumstances, the nobility of the capital, clinging to their lives, had fallen into a state of panic and unease. And since Wei Shuyou had been appointed as the Imperial Blade Guard, he seemed to have grown even more protective of his own life.
A biting wind swept fiercely, whipping up the snow on the ground and intensifying the atmosphere of solemnity and severity.
"Young Master," a servant urged his horse forward and spoke in a low voice to the man on horseback. "Just ahead is the northern side of Yuan'an Gate. If we enter quietly, the clan head will not notice. Eunuch Tai is already waiting for us at the palace gate. Once we submit the memorial, neither Young Master Yan nor that young girl will escape."
Wei Shuyou nodded coldly, his eyes gleaming like those of a fierce wolf—cruel and bloodthirsty. The hard curve of his lips was grim and ruthless.
Clouds gathered in layers across the sky, obscuring the stars and moonlight.
A man dressed in black stood atop the high palace wall, his eyes narrowed slightly. A cold breeze swept past his tall, slender frame, accentuating his solitary and imposing presence.
Thirty subordinates in black surrounded him, crouching or lying hidden in the layers of shadows, silently awaiting the right moment.
Suddenly, the music from the palace swelled, accompanied by the faint sounds of war drums and chiming bells. The man knew the time had come—the musicians were now providing cover for their operation. They had only the time it takes to burn one incense stick.
A sharp whistle abruptly pierced the tranquility of the long night, startling the rhythmically advancing horses.
The soldiers of the Wei Clan were thrown into panic, frantically looking up toward the dark voids on either side.
At that moment, a whistling sound erupted as thirty crossbows atop the high walls fired in unison. The arrows gleamed lethally, aimed not at the men but at their horses.The agonized whinnies of warhorses pierced the air as they reared violently, throwing riders from their saddles. Cries of pain echoed incessantly. Protected at the center of his entourage, Wei Shuyou seethed with shock and fury, roaring, "Who dares attack us?"
A cold laugh emerged from the darkness as a man raised a golden crossbow. The bolt whistled through the air, but before it could strike its target, the man leaped from the high wall like a panther, descending several feet before deploying his grappling hook. He swung through the air and landed firmly on the ground in an instant.
With a muffled thud, the man's longsword plunged deep into a soldier's armor. Another soldier charged forward with a blade, but he had barely taken a step when the golden bolt—fired earlier but arriving later—pierced his throat with brutal force.
Screams immediately engulfed the entire Ziwei Street!
Following this, hidden reapers descended from the high walls, brandishing their swords as they launched a ferocious assault.
By now, most of Wei Shuyou's attendants had fallen. Warhorses neighed in agony, their hooves flailing wildly. Many were wounded by crossbow bolts and trampled to death after falling, throwing the formation into chaos. The hundred-strong guard unit swiftly collapsed into disarray.
"Traitor of the Wei Clan! You frame the loyal, eliminate dissent, and plunder the nation—a vile usurper! Today, Muhe Xike acts in Heaven's name to claim your life! Prepare to die!"
The distant clatter of hooves suddenly arose. Wei Shuyou, recognizing that the imperial guards had heard the commotion and were rushing over, felt his confidence surge. He bellowed defiantly, "Muhe cur! This is a futile last stand! Come at me if you dare!"
At that moment, a large net descended from above, ensnaring Wei Shuyou tightly. Four black-clad warriors swiftly shifted positions, tightening the net before hurling their grappling hooks and scaling the high wall, departing with audacious speed.
A sharp whistle cut through the air—a signal for retreat. Though holding absolute advantage, the black-clad warriors disengaged without hesitation, scattering their weapons. Two of them lifted wooden barrels, pouring out their contents before tossing a torch. Without a backward glance, they leaped away, vanishing among the layered buildings as they fled toward the outer city, disappearing without a trace in mere moments.
The entire operation, lasting less than half an incense stick's time, ended as abruptly as it began. Meanwhile, from the direction of the Holy Gold Palace, the grand melodies continued unabated, the revelry undisturbed.
In the wake of the efficient assault and explosive tactics, all that remained for the imperial guards was a sea of flames and Wei soldiers groaning in pools of blood.
The panic-stricken commander of the imperial guard, General Lu, urgently declared, "The Eldest Young Master of Wei has been captured! Quickly, report to the Elder Council! The rest of you, follow me to the outer city in pursuit of the assassins!"
As the imperial guards raced frantically toward the outer city, a group of black-clad riders boldly entered the imperial capital unimpeded. Amid the pine and cypress groves lining the official road, over a dozen green-robed guards stood silently by a carriage. Several figures rushed forward and hurled the net-bound Wei Shuyou harshly onto the ground.
"You…"
A dull thud cut him off as a kick smashed into his mouth, shattering his teeth. Wei Shuyou grunted, rendered speechless.Two guards in blue swiftly stepped forward, tightly binding Wei Shuyou, sealing his limbs and mouth, then opened the lower compartment of the carriage, stuffing him into the charcoal storage layer typically used for holding fuel.
The lead man in black boarded the carriage, removed his outer black night attire to reveal a set of white robes underneath, pulled down his mask, revealing a handsome face with sharp, starlike eyes.
"Young Master," the now-changed man in black, now dressed in blue guard attire, respectfully held out a brazier and said, "Warm your hands, take the chill off."
Yan Xun nodded faintly, took the brazier, and let the curtain fall. He picked up the discarded black clothes beside him, tossed them into the brazier, then gestured lightly to the outside. The carriage immediately set off on the main road, heading slowly toward the forbidden palace.
Suddenly, the thunderous sound of hooves erupted from behind. A guard immediately stepped forward and shouted sharply, "Who goes there? Galloping in the palace at such a late hour—do you have a death wish?"
The rider paused, recognized the person, and quickly replied, "It's Young Master Yan. Young Master Wei was attacked on Zixiao Road. I'm under orders to rush to the palace and report to His Majesty."
"Attacked?" The carriage curtain was flung open. Yan Xun frowned slightly. "Were the assailants caught? Where is Young Master Wei now? Is he injured?"
"Reporting to Young Master Yan, the attackers escaped and fled toward the outer city. General Lu has taken men in pursuit. Young Master Wei was abducted, and his fate remains unknown."
Yan Xun nodded gravely and said in a low voice, "Then go quickly to deliver your report."
"Yes."
The warhorse galloped off immediately. Yan Xun returned inside the carriage and spoke firmly to the outside, "Continue on, to Lühua Hall."
As soon as he alighted, he saw Wei Guang leading several officials of the Wei Clan hurriedly exiting Lühua Hall. They mounted their horses and sped swiftly out of the palace.
Yan Xun, draped in a white fur cloak, his features strikingly handsome, watched the Wei Clan members depart before slowly stepping into Lühua Hall.
Emperor Xia had already withdrawn, leaving only the disoriented Zhao Qi, who was overseeing matters due to Wei Shuyou's abduction. Colorfully dressed palace maids moved among the guests, serving dishes, while the grand imperial orchestra played softly from one side of the hall, the music flowing like spring water—clearly tailored to please someone's taste.
Crown Prince Li Ce, clad in a deep purple Coiled Dragon brocade robe, chatted and laughed with those around him, downing every toast without hesitation. From time to time, he reached out to tease the dancing girls, embodying the free-spirited elegance of a cultured scholar. If not for the spectacular state of his bruised and swollen face, it would have been a scene of dashing, unrestrained charm.
The banquet atmosphere was lively; most officials were quite drunk, their spirits high, laughter continuous, amid a scene of clinking cups and flowing wine.
Yan Xun slipped quietly into his seat, glanced up briefly at Li Ce's battered face, curled the corner of his mouth, raised his wine cup, and shook his head with a light laugh.
"Why are you so late?Zhao Chun'er approached, dressed in a tender pink butterfly-patterned jacket and a gold-purple long skirt, her hair adorned with pearls and jade, a crimson dot between her brows, her cheeks milky-pink, her lips like cherries, radiant with jewels and emerald brilliance, exceptionally dazzling.
Yan Xun looked up at the young maiden gracefully approaching to sit beside him, slightly curved his lips, and said faintly, "I dozed off for a while.""I thought you weren't coming again," Zhao Chun'er's eyes were like water as she glanced at Crown Prince Li Ce sitting at the head seat, pouting as she said, "That fellow just asked for my maiden name—how utterly ill-mannered."
Yan Xun smiled casually, tilting his head back to drink, but offered no reply.
Zhao Chun'er gazed up at him adoringly, completely unbothered by his indifference. After a long while, she suddenly seemed to realize something, her cheeks flushing pink as she tugged at her clothes and asked, "Look, this is the colorful silk from the newly submitted tribute—is it pretty?"
Yan Xun was momentarily taken aback, instead recalling the recent scene at Chishui Lake—the woman's bright eyes urgently calling his name, then somewhat flustered as she said: Be careful on the road.
Yan Xun's expression instantly softened, and he sighed sincerely, "Very beautiful."
Thinking he meant her, Zhao Chun'er immediately brightened up, happily sitting beside him and continuously serving him food and pouring wine.
Soldiers kept quietly entering through the side door to report to Zhao Qi. Zhao Qi's face grew increasingly pale and grim. The officials around cautiously noticed the change, gradually becoming more restrained, and the banquet's lively atmosphere waned. Only the Crown Prince of Biantang, Li Ce, remained drunkenly clutching Zhao Qi's sleeve, chattering incessantly, swaying so much he nearly spilled his wine all over Zhao Qi.
The banquet didn't disperse until the second watch. Li Ce was utterly drunk, having fallen asleep right at the table, getting food stains all over his clothes.
Zhao Qi ordered attendants to carry him to Xiefang Hall. Instead of returning to the inner palace, he directly exited the main hall, mounted his horse, and left the city.
Yan Xun stood in the pitch-black square, clad in a white fox fur robe, his features sharp and pronounced, eyebrows sweeping toward his temples. Watching Zhao Qi's departing figure, he faintly curled the corners of his lips.
The sky was bleak and dark, a cold crow flying past with raucous caws.
"Brother Xun," Zhao Chun'er carefully tugged at his sleeve, whispering, "It's so cold here—please escort me back to the palace."
Yan Xun respectfully stepped back, bowed, and immediately created distance, saying politely yet distantly, "Yan Xun has drunk too much and dares not disturb Your Highness. Please return on your own."
With that, he turned and boarded his carriage.
As the carriage gradually faded into the distance, Zhao Chun'er remained standing in place. A palace attendant came forward to drape a large fur cloak over her, but it accidentally fell to the ground. The deep red fur against the snow was particularly striking, like a pool of fresh blood.
Zhao Chun'er stubbornly bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes as she struggled to keep them from falling.
"Your Highness?"
Nanny Yu sighed, stepping forward to take the young princess's small hand, saying, "Let's go back."
Zhao Chun'er pressed her lips together, obediently nodding, and followed behind Nanny Yu in silence toward the carriage. A cold wind blew, and a single tear finally fell, tracing her cheek and dripping onto the pale snow.
"Nanny," the young princess's voice was faint, carrying an unmistakable sob, "Did Chun'er do something wrong?"
Nanny Yu sighed softly, gently stroking Zhao Chun'er's hair, but couldn't find any words to say.
If there was any mistake, it was only that you were born into the wrong family and loved the wrong person. This poor child—what path will her future take?
The carriage moved slowly forward, disappearing into the cold, clear moonlight.
In the secret chamber of Yingge Court, A Jing roughly tore the blindfold from the man's eyes.Wei Shuyou frowned tightly, taking quite some time to adjust to the bright light. When he lifted his head, he abruptly saw the man's indifferent, lightly smiling face.
"Yan Xun?" Wei Shuyou's eyes widened instantly, and he shouted in disbelief.
Yan Xun sat in a chair, sipping tea. Hearing this, he slightly raised his eyes and greeted with a faint smile, "Young Master Wei, you've been busy with important matters lately. It's been days since we last met. I trust you've been well."
"You have some nerve!" Wei Shuyou flared up in anger, his voice sharp.
"My courage has always been considerable. Young Master Wei should be well aware of that."
"Yan Xun, the Wei Clan will not let you off! You'll die without a burial place!"
Yan Xun chuckled softly, as if hearing a joke, and slowly replied, "Whether I'll die without a burial place, I cannot say. But I am certain that you will undoubtedly die without one."
"Do you remember?" Yan Xun leaned forward slightly, a wicked smile on his lips, his voice unhurried as he spoke slowly, "I once told you that if you didn't kill me that day, you would one day die by my blade. For every finger you cut off of mine, I will take your head."
"Ah!"
A piercing scream erupted instantly. Under the sharp edge of the blade, a severed hand fell to the ground, blood splattering everywhere.
A few drops of blood splashed onto Yan Xun's wrist. The man frowned slightly in disgust, picked up a white silk cloth, and wiped it forcefully. He coldly ordered his subordinate, "Drag him away and execute him."
Wei Shuyou struggled desperately in his dying moments, roaring furiously, "Yanbei dog! My uncle will not spare you!"
"Wei Guang?" Yan Xun sneered, "He's too old, his mind is no longer sharp. Only your Wei Clan still worships him like a god. Right now, that rotten head of his is probably still suspecting someone else."
"Wei Shuyou, you fool!"
Yan Xun suddenly turned his head, looking at him coldly with disgust, and said in a deep voice, "You originally had some time left to live. It's a pity you shouldn't have provoked me, especially by threatening the person I care about most. Did you think you could bring me down? How naive. You have always been a worthless failure—in the past, now, and you would have remained so in the future. Unfortunately, you will no longer have that chance."
He threw the blood-stained white silk cloth to the ground, turned around resolutely, and strode out. As he walked, he coldly commanded, "Drag him away!"
Curses filled with resentment and terrified shrieks immediately erupted. Yan Xun's back remained straight, and he paid them no heed.
He had already embarked on the path of revenge. Those who had humiliated and harmed him would pay a painful price. From now on, he would never allow anyone to take away what he cherished most. Never again!
The cold moon was like frost, the night wind icy. Tonight was yet another sleepless night.
The next day, the entire Zhenhuang City was shaken. Wei Shuyou, the eldest son of the Wei Clan, had been ambushed near the imperial city the previous night. His hundred soldiers were completely wiped out, and Wei Shuyou himself was abducted. When the imperial guards arrived, they found no trace of the assailants. A night-long search yielded nothing, and it was feared that he was already beyond rescue.
Since some guards had heard the assailants identify themselves as Muhe Xike of the Muhe Clan from a distance, another large-scale purge and massacre of the remaining members of the Muhe Clan began.Yet at this very moment, in the main chamber of the Wei Clan's mansion, Wei Guang handed a letter to his most trusted subordinate, Wei Nu, and said gravely, "You must tell Ye'er that the Wei Clan's survival hangs by a thread. His Majesty has already begun targeting the Wei lineage. If he doesn't return soon, the Wei Clan will be the next Muhe Clan."
Five swift horses galloped out of Zhenhuang City's gates, kicking up dust as they headed north.
When A Jing came to report, Yan Xun was sipping tea under the corridor eaves. Upon hearing the news, he gave a cold smile and said lightly, "The more chaos, the better."
Though just a few brief words, they instantly sent a chill through A Jing's entire body. He had served Yan Xun for three years, yet found himself increasingly unable to understand this master of his.
From the training grounds of the Elite Cavalry Camp came wave after wave of thunderous cheers. A bright-smiling young woman stood at the center of the field, simultaneously releasing seven arrows in rapid succession like chain-shot pellets, all striking the bullseye of a target a hundred paces away.
"Instructor Chu!"
A single horse approached rapidly from afar. A young soldier dressed in gray-brown martial attire leaped from his mount, panting heavily as he said, "Someone is looking for you."
"Looking for me?" Chu Qiao was taken aback. Setting down her crossbow, she jumped down from the archery platform and asked, "Who is it?"
"Instructor Chu!" A hearty, laughing man waved his bow and shouted, "Are we still competing or not?"
"You've already lost your robe to me and still haven't learned your lesson! Soon enough I'll have you losing your pants too!" The girl turned her head, her voice clear and crisp. The surrounding Elite Cavalry Camp soldiers burst into loud laughter, all teasing the man who kept challenging her to archery contests.
The messenger soldier chuckled along with everyone, revealing a set of white teeth. "I'm not sure either. Seems like they're from the Office of Imperial Sacrifices. There are many of them."
Chu Qiao's brows slowly furrowed. Who could be looking for her? Didn't Yan Xun say the matter with the Crown Prince of Tang was settled? Who else would come looking for a mere archery instructor like her?
"Let's go take a look."
Chu Qiao mounted another warhorse and followed the messenger soldier toward the direction of the central command camp.
Looking into the distance, the Elite Cavalry Camp appeared particularly lively today. Golden dragon banners, ceremonial officials in brocade robes, rows of graceful women carrying massive golden trays, and chief eunuchs of the Office of Imperial Sacrifices dressed in formal court attire followed respectfully behind. Rows of resplendent golden chests were arranged before the tents, though no one knew what rare treasures they contained.
Zhao Qi frowned deeply, saying to Deputy Commander Cheng in a low voice, "Where is the Seventh Prince? Why hasn't he returned yet?"
Deputy Commander Cheng was sweating profusely. To this moment, he still didn't know what was happening. He replied in a hushed tone, "He'll be here soon. I've already sent someone to notify him."
"Not bad. So even military camps have their own unique scenery."
A lazy voice sounded nearby. Zhao Qi immediately felt a headache coming on. Turning with a bitter smile, he said, "Your Highness the Crown Prince, may I ask what brings you to my seventh brother's camp today?"
"You'll find out soon enough." Li Ce wore brilliant red brocade robes as fiery as flames, the hem embroidered with phoenixes playing with dragons in dazzling gold. His belt floated with fragrance, and he wore a red fox fur cloak over his shoulders. His eyes were as bewitching as peach blossoms, and despite the cold weather, he insistently waved a folding fan, putting on such a mysteriously annoying act that it made people's teeth itch.
Zhao Qi swore to himself that he was really reaching his limit of tolerance.For two whole days, he had been dragged around by this person through endless troubles. First, they complained that the sleeping quarters in the Holy Gold Palace were poorly ventilated. After half a night's effort to improve the airflow, they then grumbled that the room had become too cold. Waking up the next morning, they refused to eat because the palace maids were unattractive. When exceptionally beautiful ones were finally found, they criticized them for being unable to recite poetry. Even mealtimes were filled with nitpicking—one moment complaining the tea wasn't freshly harvested within the last three days, the next fussing that the guards' boots lacked soft padding, claiming the noise from their steps in the outer city would disturb their sleep in the inner city. In short, the demands were endlessly inventive and exhausting.
Zhao Qi felt half-dead from fatigue, thinking that years of rivalry with his numerous brothers hadn't worn him out as much as these two days of catering to this whims. Now, without any regard for propriety, this person had gathered a crowd and brought them to the military camp, leaving Zhao Qi clueless about what new eccentric idea had sprung up.
If before this, he had still suspected this fellow was a hidden master playing the pig to eat the tiger, then now he could be one hundred percent certain—this guy was a complete lunatic, utterly devoid of reason.
"Ah! She's here, she's here, she's here!"
Li Ce's eyes suddenly lit up. Before Zhao Qi could get a closer look, Li Ce pulled him aside with a swift motion, snapped his folding fan shut, and said nervously, "How's my outfit today? Do I smell fragrant enough? Not tacky, right? Look at these boots—they're top-grade marten fur, a tribute from the Mohan King of the northwest. Still classy, aren't they?"
Zhao Qi sighed helplessly and nodded repeatedly. "Fine, absolutely stunning."
As soon as she stepped into the camp, Chu Qiao spotted the troops of Zhao Qi's Green Camp Army. Her brows furrowed slightly, and she grew inwardly cautious.
What could have happened? Why would Zhao Qi personally come looking for her? Could it be that Yan Xun had made some mistake?
By then, she had already approached the crowd. She noticed the officials from the Office of Imperial Sacrifices frowning at her, seemingly just as confused about the situation. She felt slightly reassured. If Yan Xun's plan had failed, Zhao Qi would have simply brought the Green Camp Army—why involve the Office of Imperial Sacrifices? Things couldn't be as bad as she feared.
"General Chu Qiao pays respects to the Third—"
"Haha! Let's see where you run off to now!"
A fiery red figure suddenly darted out from behind her, wrapping his arms around her tightly in a firm embrace. Everyone was instantly stunned, but before they could process what was happening, the young woman reacted like a cornered beast. In a flash, she leaped up, executed a complex hand technique to break free from his grasp, and followed up with a small joint lock. With two crisp snaps, she reversed their positions, pinning the ambushing man firmly to the ground!
"Who are you?"
Chu Qiao demanded coldly, her voice low.
Then, she watched as the apple of the Biantang Emperor's eye struggled to lift his head from the ground, still wearing a lecherous, grinning expression. In a lazy tone, he said, "So rough. It's me—don't you recognize me?"
The Daxia officials were utterly dumbfounded. They glanced at the Crown Prince of Tang lying on the ground, then turned to look at the Third Prince Zhao Qi, whose face was dark with anger, and finally at the somewhat bewildered young woman Chu Qiao. Everyone stood frozen, unsure of what to say.
In contrast, the envoys from Biantang all wore expressions of resignation, as if they had long known things wouldn't proceed logically.
Zhao Qi was the first to snap out of it. He immediately stepped forward and barked at Chu Qiao, "How dare you! How dare you disrespect the Crown Prince of Tang—what is your crime?"
Chu Qiao was taken aback and quickly released her grip, about to apologize. But then she saw Li Ce flip over and nimbly rise from the ground, shouting at Zhao Qi with great authority, "How dare you! She is the one I intend to marry. I've even brought the betrothal gifts—men, bring them forward!"
Hundreds of massive chests were carried forward. As soon as they were opened, they revealed a dazzling display of gold and splendor, so brilliant it was almost blinding. The crowd couldn't help but gasp in astonishment.
Chu Qiao stood rooted to the spot, looking at the stunned Daxia officials, the dumbfounded Prince Zhao Qi, and the smugly triumphant Crown Prince of Tang. Finally, she furrowed her brows in despair, on the verge of tears.
Could someone please tell her—what in the world was going on here?
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