Shе lаughed aloud, "Оnе for threе, I've madе а рrоfit."
А hеavy blоw struck the back of her hеаd, follоwed bу thе flаsh оf a blаdе, sliсing strаight tоward hеr neck. She сlоsed hеr eyes. Тhis time, she likеly wouldn't еsсаре. Аnd рerhaрs, thаt was fоr thе bеst.
A swift brеezе, а head tumbling tо thе ground, аnd scalding bloоd splatterеd асross thе grass.
But the оnе whо fell wаs аnоthеr.
Тhе burly mаn didn't еven hаve timе to seе who it wаs bеfоre his hеаd wаs sеvered from his bоdy. The remaining mеn lunged forward, оnly to sеe а whitе robе fluttering amidst galloping hooves, movements swift as lightning. A series of sharp swishes echoed, and then silence fell, the breeze now wordless, the surroundings deathly still.
Han Yan slowly opened her eyes to see Fu Yunxi on horseback, looking down at her from above. His gaze still held an unretracted murderous intent, like a fallen immortal tainted by sin, consumed by inner demons. His usually calm and composed demeanor was now replaced by deep concern.
The sword in his hand dripped blood, drop by drop. Han Yan forced a smile, perhaps wanting to comfort him, but unsure of what to say. She reached out her hand. "I'm fine." As soon as the words left her lips, darkness enveloped her vision, and she lost consciousness.
Fu Yunxi leaped into action, lifting her onto his horse. The woman who had always handled everything with ease now looked utterly disheveled, yet he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Unconsciously, he held her tighter.
Thankfully, she was still alive.
It felt like a long, endless dream—a vast expanse of blood, countless figures wielding blades closing in on her, sharp laughter piercing her ears. Looking up, she saw the twisted face of Madam Zhou, Zhuangshan's mother, looming before her. Her own mother lay on the bed, barely breathing. The Seventh Prince waved his hand, seemingly ordering the execution of Zhuang Hanming, who knelt half-collapsed on the ground. Han Yan realized her body seemed to float, invisible to everyone. She tried to grasp something, but only caught the hem of her sleeve slipping through her fingers, clutching at emptiness. Was she dead? Why was she witnessing such heartbreaking scenes? Nothing remained, only despair that chilled the soul.
If she were truly dead, there would be nothing left. All the love, all the hatred—nothing would remain. In this world, it would be as if she had never existed. She covered her face and wept bitterly.
Then, she felt herself enveloped in a warm embrace. Whose voice was this, so soothing, as if possessing a magical power to dispel all fears? Who was gently calling her name, over and over, tender yet firm: "Zhuang Hanyan."
Fu Yunxi looked down at the young woman clutching his sleeve, refusing to let go. He didn't know what she was dreaming of, but tears streamed endlessly down her face. He had never seen Han Yan so fragile before, and his heart was filled with complex emotions—though more than anything, it was the joy of having her back. He remembered the Crown Prince telling him that Han Yan might already be dead. Today's events made it easy to guess that it was a premeditated plot, aimed at targeting the Crown Prince while also destroying Han Yan and her brother. But Han Yan had rushed out to protect the Crown Prince, falling into the hands of those Western Rong men. It was a miracle she had survived.At that moment, his heart almost convulsed with pain. For the first time, the usually calm and composed young man felt the emotion of "fear." He was terrified of losing her—if he could no longer see that still-childlike face, if he could no longer hear her soft, earnest voice calling out "Your Highness," how dull life would be without such an enigmatic girl. In Fu Yunxi's world, things were divided into three categories: those he didn’t want, those that belonged to him, and then there was Han Yan. What he desired would naturally be presented to him eagerly, while what he didn’t want wouldn’t even come close to touching him. But wanting Han Yan was not so simple.
Bit by bit, he dismantled her defenses, gradually making his way into her heart. He thought he could control everything, but who was it that ended up falling in the end?
In her sleep, Han Yan clutched his sleeve, her expression dependent and fragile. He recalled the moment he first saw her—a girl covered in blood kneeling on the ground, one hand gripping a gleaming broadsword, her eyes even brighter than the blade. All around, pools of blood painted a scene of tragedy at a glance. A smile played on her lips, yet her eyes were filled with sorrow and despair.
It was hard to imagine a young girl possessing such a gaze, as if she had already endured all the suffering in the world, leaving only a sense of indifference toward the cold, mocking nature of humanity. His heart ached intensely, and for the first time, he killed without reason. He should have left survivors to interrogate the mastermind behind the attack, but he didn’t want to. For one, he already knew who was behind it without needing to ask, and more importantly, in this world, no one was allowed to harm her in the slightest.
Those who hurt her did not deserve to live.
Fu Yunxi reached out a hand and gently held her delicate fingers. From the initial interest he took in her, to wanting to protect her from harm, and now to caring so deeply about every little thing concerning Han Yan—even someone as emotionally detached as him had to realize that he had grown fond of this young girl. For ordinary people, the word "fondness" might not mean much, but for Fu Yunxi, who had not cared for a woman in so many years aside from his mother, Zhuang Hanyan was the first.
He leaned down and lightly pressed his cool lips to Han Yan’s forehead. Her brows relaxed slightly, and as he watched quietly, a trace of warmth flickered in his eyes.
Han Yan had no idea how long she slept, but when she woke, it was already the next morning. Ji Lan was sleeping soundly by her bedside, and as Han Yan stirred, Shu Hong, who was wringing out a towel, immediately exclaimed with joy, "Miss!"
Han Yan frowned. "Why are you up?" Shu Hong’s injuries hadn’t fully healed yet—how could she be up and about serving others?
Ji Lan also woke up and, seeing Han Yan awake, tears immediately streamed down her face as she smiled. "Miss, you’re finally awake."Shu Hong also came over to hold Han Yan's hand: "Miss, please don't scare us like this in the future. It was so dangerous—if anything had happened..." Shu Hong, who was usually steady and composed, now had tears welling up in her eyes. Everyone knew that yesterday, while she was peacefully staying in the mansion, she suddenly heard the maids from the front courtyard say that something had happened during the Spring Sacrifice. She had already felt somewhat uneasy, but she never expected that after a while, Ji Lan would be sent back, and at the same time, she learned that Han Yan had gone missing. The two maids were frantic with worry in the mansion, and they were strictly ordered that no one was allowed to leave during this critical time. Ji Lan even had a big argument with the prince's personal guard. Later, when the prince rode back on horseback, carrying Han Yan covered in blood, he immediately called for Imperial Physician Wu as soon as he entered the mansion. Everyone was terrified. Ji Lan and Shu Hong were especially frightened out of their wits—they had never seen Han Yan bleed so much, covered in knife wounds, unconscious in the prince's arms, as if she were about to fall into an eternal sleep.
The imperial physician arrived quickly, bandaged Han Yan's wounds, and instructed that she must rest well to recover. Ji Lan and Shu Hong were so worried they couldn't bear it. After pleading for a long time, they were finally allowed to stay by Han Yan's side to care for her.
Han Yan smiled: "It's alright now. Where is the prince?"
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