Having been away from Chang'an for several months, the sight of the bustling, unrestrained common folk felt immensely familiar.
Zhao Wuniang, Zhao Lingfei, rode a bay horse alongside her cousin and others along the main avenue after entering the city.
On both sides stood grand taverns and restaurants with imposing structures and expansive fronts. The streets teemed with people, interspersed with vibrant flowers and fluttering banners—such prosperity. Amid the clamor, Zhao Lingfei noticed her cousin, who had been riding at the forefront of their party, halt his horse and converse with a young man lingering on the street.
Despite the distance, the youth's jade-like elegance and golden demeanor were unmistakable. Zhao Lingfei's eyes instantly brightened as she urged her horse forward, exclaiming with delight, "Second Brother Yan! Did you hear I was returning and come specially to the city gate to welcome me?"
Yan Shang: "Ah... so it's Zhao Wuniang. It's been a long time."
His tone was hurried, yet his voice remained warm and smiling. Unable to bow properly from horseback, he simply cupped his hands in a casual salute.
But from his surprised tone, Zhao Lingfei immediately understood Yan Shang had no idea she was returning to Chang'an that day.
Just as her gaze dimmed and she prepared to persist in engaging Yan Erlang, Yang Si—who had been speaking with Yan Shang—turned his horse and let out a sharp whistle by pressing fingers to his lips. The following riders jolted alert, tensing in unison.
The leader, Yang Sanlang in narrow-sleeved black robes, shouted: "Men, follow me out of the city! Lingfei, escort the women back to my residence to report our safety. I have matters beyond the walls with Yan Erlang—"
"Hyah!"
Without another word—and giving Zhao Lingfei no chance to refuse—Yang Si wheeled his horse around and charged back toward the city gates. Bewildered, Zhao Lingfei looked to Yan Shang, expecting an explanation from this gentle-natured youth. But Yan Shang only offered an apologetic salute before tightening his reins to pursue Yang Si.
Yan Shang called out slightly louder: "Sanlang, wait for me—"
Following Yan Shang, the entire retinue of riders who had just returned with Yang Si promptly turned their horses to follow their master out of the city.
On Chang'an's main entrance avenue, the synchronized turn of numerous horses stirred thunderous momentum and clouds of dust. Coughing in the grit, Zhao Lingfei watched riders and steeds brush past her. After a stunned moment, the urgency sparked her curiosity—she longed to follow and observe.
But after a hesitation, she glanced back at the women settled in the carriage behind her and decided it wiser to first report their safe return to the residence before venturing out again for excitement.
In the narrow palace pathway, Liu Wenji was about to head to the Hanlin Academy as usual when a young eunuch summoned and led him to this spot.
Assuming some behavior had again drawn unwanted attention—and bracing for an inevitable private beating—Liu Wenji stiffened, suppressing his dread of impending blows as he followed the eunuch to the alley.
Awaiting him at the palace gate wasn't the expected punishment, but a portly, benevolent-looking elderly eunuch.
Recognizing him instantly as Cheng An—the currently favored Grand Eunuch at the emperor's side—Liu Wenji hastily knelt to pay respects.Cheng An observed that this young eunuch was fair-skinned and understood etiquette, nodding with a satisfied smile. He exchanged a glance with the junior eunuch who had escorted Liu Wenji, who promptly stepped forward to help Liu Wenji rise.
The junior eunuch exclaimed, "Ah, Wenji, why kneel? Did Duke Cheng summon you just to watch you prostrate?"
Cheng An smirked without warmth. "Liu Wenji, is it? This old servant was previously attending His Majesty during his illness and had no time to manage external affairs involving my godson. Only after His Majesty recovered somewhat did I learn that my godson and the Academician of the Imperial Academy nearly came to blows, and it was you who mediated their reconciliation?"
He paused. "I heard you hosted several renowned flower banquets in the Pleasure Quarter to facilitate this? Must have cost a fortune."
Liu Wenji replied deferentially, "It was nothing, merely my duty."
Cheng An let out a derisive chuckle.
His voice stretched thin and sharp: "Enough! You young eunuchs and your schemes—do you think this old servant doesn't see through them? Having served His Majesty for decades, I've gained some modest influence. I acknowledge your favor and won't let your efforts go unrewarded. Speak—what do you desire? An assignment outside the palace? Gold and beauties?"
For eunuchs, requesting external assignments was commonplace; mentioning gold and beauties seemed ludicrous.
Yet none of the three eunuchs present found it amusing.
Stripped of their manhood, they spent their lives obsessively pursuing the symbolic trappings of masculinity—a vicious compensation manifesting as cruelty and malice.
Why else would tales persist of eunuchs secretly keeping wives and concubines outside the palace? Or of eunuchs forming "paired meals" relationships with palace maids?
Liu Wenji understood the psychology of these emasculated men perfectly. But what meaning did gold or women hold for him? Since his castration and entry into the palace, he had coveted only one thing: power.
The overwhelming, colossal power that could devour everyone.
Lowering his eyelids submissively, Liu Wenji murmured, "This servant seeks nothing else—only to remain by Duke Cheng's side and learn from your wisdom."
Cheng An clicked his tongue. "Tsk. So you aspire to serve before the throne. Heh. Our Emperor isn't easily pleased."
Liu Wenji responded, "I rely entirely on your guidance."
Cheng An studied him carefully, genuinely contemplating. As the Emperor's health declined daily, he himself aged rapidly—eunuchs withering faster than whole men. Even before Liu Wenji, Cheng An had been grooming several young eunuchs for contingencies.
If any protégé rose to prominence, he'd have someone to care for him in old age.
"Very well," Cheng An declared. "Starting tomorrow, aside from your duties at the Imperial Academy, you shall work under this old servant."
Liu Wenji kowtowed again, overwhelmed with gratitude.
This time, Cheng An accepted the homage without demur.
Peering down at the handsome young eunuch, Cheng An mused aloud, "But a minor eunuch without rank can't serve before the throne. Let it be thus: from tomorrow, you shall be Palace Warder. At least you'll have a proper rank."
Liu Wenji's head snapped up, his eyes glittering like startled stars as he gazed bewildered at Cheng An. When Cheng An casually granted him the title of "Palace Warder," indescribable emotions—bitterness, grief, shock, and elation—flooded his heart.
Palace Warder was a ranked position within the eunuch hierarchy.This rank, if equated to an official position, corresponds to the lower eighth rank.
The concept of the lower eighth rank... After numerous twists and turns—scheming for the provincial examination, participating in the spring imperial exams, and attending the Imperial Examination—Yan Shang had toiled for an entire year, earning a good reputation among the scholars of Chang'an. Yet, his current official position was merely the lower eighth rank.
Liu Wenji had come to Chang'an seeking an official post for two full years, with no opportunity in sight.
But after entering the palace as a minor eunuch and without accomplishing anything significant... a lower eighth rank position had fallen from the sky.
All of this made his life seem so... ridiculous!
Cheng An narrowed his eyes, looking down disdainfully at the young eunuch kneeling below, whose eyes seemed to glisten with tears. "What, are you dissatisfied with the position of Palace Attendant?"
Liu Wenji suppressed the bitterness and sorrow in his heart, kowtowing joyfully. "Thank you for your kindness, sir."
In the southern mountains, early spring had just arrived, and the thin layer of snow covering the slopes had barely melted. Danyang Princess had arranged a hunting expedition here with the envoys of various small states.
Horses raced through the vast green forests.
The envoys surrounded the beautiful Danyang Princess, vying to curry favor. Initially, they had sought marriage alliances on behalf of their rulers merely to counter the Uman King's dominance. But later, their proposals became genuine.
If they could secure a Peace Marriage with Great Wei, wouldn't that strengthen their relationship? Many neighboring small states relied on Great Wei's protection for survival, making them especially eager for such alliances.
This Danyang Princess was perfect!
And even if it weren't her, any princess endorsed by Great Wei would suffice!
However, Mu Wan Yao merely responded to the envoys' flattery with casual smiles. Only when her beautiful eyes met the Uman King's procession did they briefly brighten.
The Uman King, riding on horseback, wore a mask, as did the Black Barbarian soldiers behind him. Mu Wan Yao thought to herself that she had never seen such a strange custom among the Black Barbarians before. Yet, in Great Wei, Meng Zaishi often acted this way, and she couldn't be bothered to inquire about his affairs.
Locking eyes with the Uman King through his mask, Mu Wan Yao clapped her hands, signaling for silence. She smiled charmingly and said, "Enough idle talk. Let us begin the hunt. Early spring has just arrived, and the animals in the mountains have only just awakened. They won't be easy to find—it all depends on your skills."
Laughter erupted from all directions, and someone boldly asked, "If someone wins, what will the reward be?"
Mu Wan Yao smiled as she looked over. "If you win, I will grant you the honor of dining with me tonight."
From behind, Meng Zaishi's magnetic voice rang out, "Oh? In that case, this king will not hold back."
Immediately, an envoy retorted indignantly, "The Uman King is far too confident! Our archery skills are no less than those of the Black Barbarians!"
Meng Zaishi replied lazily, "Then let's test it out."
His arrogant attitude provoked an uproar, and everyone began arguing noisily.
Mu Wan Yao felt slightly relieved and glanced back at the Uman contingent. Initially, seeing them masked and Meng Zaishi silent, she had suspected some trickery. But now, hearing his voice and knowing he was present, her plan could proceed meaningfully.
The Uman King extended his hand to her, signaling for them to ride together, just as Meng Zaishi had always done.
In the past, Mu Wan Yao might not have humored him, but today, she smiled faintly at him and rode ahead.Danyang Princess's slender and graceful figure darted into the lush forest, with Meng Zaishi watching intently. At the sound of the princess's spirited cry of "Giddyap!", her guards swiftly followed suit. The Black Barbarians, quicker to react than the other envoys, took the lead in pursuing Danyang Princess.
As the others caught on, they mounted their horses and charged into the woods!—
"Whoosh—"
The Southern Mountains resembled a green sea, with arrows weaving through the trees, targeting the bewildered, newly awakened animals. The hunters moved with electric focus, alert and cautious, while the rustling of the forest, like waves, concealed all other sounds.
Gradually, Mu Wan Yao's group and Meng Zaishi's party drifted apart from the main force.
In Great Wei, women were bold and fierce, while the Black Barbarians universally revered martial prowess. Under such circumstances, Mu Wan Yao was no ordinary maiden incapable of drawing a bow.
Her skirt flared like a lotus blossom over the horse's back, with arrows and bow readied in their quiver. Riding at the forefront, she repeatedly drew her bow, sending arrows flying from her hands. Each time she struck true, Fang Tong and others would gallop over to retrieve the felled game.
After several rounds, a smile spread across Mu Wan Yao's face, her brows relaxing with satisfaction.
Naturally, Meng Zaishi's side did not fall behind.
Every member of the Black Barbarian contingent could ride and shoot, and with each draw of their bows, their horses gradually outpaced Mu Wan Yao's group.
Mu Wan Yao's party slowed increasingly, and though she had initially ridden neck and neck with the Uman King in the forest, she now lagged bit by bit, the distance between them widening.
Feigning heavy panting, Mu Wan Yao brought her horse to a complete halt. Her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the retreating backs of the Black Barbarians ahead.
Slowly, a trace of amusement still in her eyes, she swayed her bow and tilted her head as if playfully chatting with her attendant Fang Tong. In that brief exchange of glances, Mu Wan Yao's eyelids dipped subtly, forming a curve—a silent signal to "act."
Instantly, birds soared from the thicket, and from behind bushes and trees emerged the figures of guards—some bearing crossbows, others brandishing swords. They had lain in ambush deep within the forest, waiting for this very moment.
The Black Barbarians, leading the charge, suddenly seemed to sense danger. The Uman King reined in his horse, his masked face turning as he raised a long arm to halt his followers. Slowly, he twisted in his saddle to look back at Mu Wan Yao.
In that split second, Mu Wan Yao's voice cut sharp: "Kill—"
Arrows shot from the woods toward the Black Barbarians, their aim not at the riders, but at their horses.
Strike the legs! Render the horses immobile!
For the Black Barbarians, masters of the saddle, their horses were their lives! To cripple their mobility, target the steeds first!
Deep in the forest, some of the Black Barbarians' horses were hit, their riders crying out as they tumbled from their mounts. As others leaned down to assist, more arrows rained upon them.
Curses in the Black Barbarian tongue erupted, but Mu Wan Yao only sneered coldly, raising her hand once more—
One by one, the valiant sons of Great Wei, hidden among the trees, surged toward the disoriented Black Barbarians, who scrambled to dodge the arrows while reining in their steeds.
In the depths of the forest, the battle was joined!—
Meanwhile, Yang Si and Yan Shang's party entered Leyou Plain and ascended the Southern Mountains. The vast expanse of the Southern Mountains left them uncertain of Mu Wan Yao's exact whereabouts.
By this point, it was Yang Si, who had originally followed Yan Shang here, who proved more familiar with the terrain.Yang Si led his horse, hesitating for only a moment before determining a direction: "Follow me—"
His profile was stern, his gaze sharp and piercing. The usual laziness and casualness were completely restrained, and the young man's relentless momentum seemed on the verge of bursting forth.
Yan Shang followed closely behind him, reminding him: "Sanlang, are you sure it's this direction? Time is tight..."
Yang Si leaned forward on his horse and began to feel for the horizontal blade at his waist. The long wind swept past his ears, his eyes calm. The signal of drawing his blade prompted the knights behind him to follow suit, unsheathing their weapons one after another.
Yang Si coldly replied to Yan Shang's question: "Don't worry. Nanshan, I know it better than you—
"I've played here since I was a child. I know every corner of Nanshan—where it's suitable for ambushes, where the trees are dense, where the beasts gather... I've grown up here, searching for people, killing people... I know it all better than you!
"Follow me!"
Yan Shang urged his horse to follow and reminded him again: "Sanlang, don't act impulsively. Your Highness's safety is more important—"
With his long blade in hand and his horse galloping like lightning, Yang Si no longer answered Yan Shang's question.
Yan Shang knew that at this point, he likely couldn't control Yang Si anymore. The Yang Sanlang who idled away his time in Chang'an was gone; the wildness in Yang Si was awakening.
If he couldn't control him, then he had to let go of the reins—
After a brief pause, Yan Shang spoke succinctly to a knight behind him: "Sir, may I borrow your bow and arrows—"
The forest was stained with blood as the battle between the two sides unfolded.
The horses of the Black Barbarians were struck by arrows one after another, and the barbarians were dragged down, rolling on the ground to dodge the arrows. The Great Wei guards charged forward, but these Black Barbarians were all fierce and skilled in combat, leaping up from the ground and charging at the ambushers.
A Black Barbarian shouted: "Ke Li Lu, protect the King!"
Someone immediately responded: "Of course! Your Majesty, your subordinate is here to assist you—"
A burly and imposing Black Barbarian jumped off his horse, his long blade sweeping out as he slashed at the crowd closing in on the Uman King: "Treacherous Great Wei scum! Did you really think we Black Barbarians would be easy to fool—"
Leading the charge against the Uman King were Fang Tong and the others. Fang Tong could understand a few words of the Black Barbarian language. Hearing the chilling wind and the voices of the barbarians approaching from behind, he shouted: "It's Ke Li Lu! A fierce warrior of the Black Barbarians. Everyone, be careful—"
Fang Tong was tackled to the ground by Ke Li Lu, while the other guards continued to charge at the Uman King's horse, hacking at its legs. The Uman King, gripping his long blade, spun around and struck at the guards. As droplets of blood splattered in the air, the Uman King used the neck of a corpse as support and leaped off his horse.
The Uman King turned and, without a moment's delay, charged toward Danyang Princess Mu Wan Yao, who was observing the battle from afar.
Seeing him rushing toward the Princess, the guards immediately threw themselves into a life-or-death struggle to block his path!
Blades flashed, and corpses piled up!
The roars of the crowd shook the mountain birds into flight: "Ah—"
The Black Barbarians, their faces covered in blood and outnumbered by the Princess Residence's guards lying in ambush here, were nonetheless wildly arrogant: "Great Wei people, truly treacherous! Come on, we'll play with you—"
Fang Tong engaged in a fierce battle with the Black Barbarian warrior Ke Li Lu. Ke Li Lu's martial skills were average, but his massive build and overwhelming strength made him formidable. Fang Tong relied entirely on his agility to maneuver around his opponent, leading Ke Li Lu in a specific direction. Ke Li Lu, completely unaware, swung his powerful fists one after another, laughing heartily: "Back in Uman, I always wanted to kill you—"Fang Tong was sent flying backward by a punch, crashing into a tree and spitting blood. His vision darkened, his ribs likely fractured, and his entire body ached so severely he could barely move.
Yet Fang Tong sneered coldly.
As he opened his mouth, blood dripped from between his teeth. Staring fiercely at Ke Li Lu, who was striding toward him, he retorted sharply in the Black Barbarians' tongue: "Come on—if you don’t kill me, you’re no man!"
Ke Li Lu lunged forward, intent on crushing the seemingly frail personal guard of the Danyang Princess, who now lay immobilized. But as he closed in, an iron-woven net, secured with chains, descended from above, ensnaring him. Ke Li Lu tried frantically to evade it, but Fang Tong threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist and dragging them both under the net.
Fang Tong roared: "Come on—let’s perish together!"—
Taking the lead at the cost of his own sacrifice, Fang Tong, trapped alongside Ke Li Lu in the iron net, forcibly turned the tide.
Having personally traversed the lands of the Black Barbarians, he never dared underestimate their combat prowess. Even though the Princess Residence’s guards lying in ambush here outnumbered the Black Barbarians.
Mu Wan Yao watched the battle tensely, her palms drenched in cold sweat. She saw the Black Barbarians subdued one by one—some trapped, others slain—as the corpses on the ground multiplied and the number of standing Black Barbarians dwindled. Struggling to breathe, she finally witnessed the last of the surrounded Black Barbarians, riddled with wounds, stagger and collapse with a thunderous crash.
Leaves scattered, and the forest fell abruptly silent.
Only a dozen or so Princess Residence guards remained standing, while not a single Black Barbarian was left on his feet.
The guards turned: "Your Highness!"
Mu Wan Yao dismounted and strode into the battleground. Her expression was icy as her apricot-colored skirts swept through the pools of blood and corpses, yet her face showed no change. The guards parted to let her through. Mu Wan Yao surveyed the scattered, masked Black Barbarians fallen on the ground, some still resisting as they were forced to their knees, and the valiant Uman King himself, now lying at her feet.
A surreal disbelief washed over her.
On the night she left the Black Barbarians, she had used the blades of the old Uman King and his successor to kill Meng Zaishi once.
Today, in Great Wei, had she truly killed Meng Zaishi again?
Had she really slain him?
Kneeling beside the Uman King’s corpse, Mu Wan Yao studied the arrows embedded in his chest and the bleeding gashes across his body. She reached out, slowly peeling away the mask from his face.
From top to bottom, the true visage of the Uman King emerged from behind the bronze mask.
Arched brows sweeping toward his temples, sharp and resolute—yet Mu Wan Yao’s face abruptly paled in shock.
She sprang to her feet, urgently crying out: "Fall back—"
This was not Meng Zaishi!
The dead Uman King was not Meng Zaishi!
But in that instant, a "corpse" of a Black Barbarian on the ground suddenly revived. At such close range, no one could react in time. The figure leaped up, wrapping his arms around Mu Wan Yao’s waist, and vaulted into the air, soaring toward the high trees.
Fang Tong, freed from the iron net and supported by two guards, approached and witnessed the sudden turn of events. Aghast, he shouted "Your Highness!" and hurled his blade at the figure who had seized the princess mid-air.
As the man clung to a high branch, clutching the struggling Mu Wan Yao, he turned his head. Fang Tong’s thrown blade struck true, knocking the mask from his face.
His features were revealed—handsome and chillingly cold.
Fang Tong exclaimed involuntarily: "Meng Zaishi—"This is the real Uman King!
The one who died was fake!
Meng Zaishi had someone die in his place! The Uman King who came hunting in the forest today had been a "false king" from start to finish. The true king hid among the knights, watching the farce unfold in cold silence, then pretended to be casually cut down by them.
Then Meng Zaishi seized the princess at the most critical moment!
Fang Tong felt a heavy pressure in his chest and spat out another mouthful of blood.
The guard beside him cried out anxiously: "Young master—"
Fang Tong gritted his teeth: "After them! Rescue Your Highness!"
Now that the fish would get killed and the net torn, there was no need for pretense anymore!
But at that moment, a group of Great Wei guards emerged from the forest: "Who dares cause trouble here—"
Great Wei troops!
Fang Tong's expression shifted slightly, realizing others had been drawn into this—
The forest was deep green, spring water breaking through the ice.
As Meng Zaishi lunged forward, how could Mu Wan Yao—standing right beside the corpse he'd been disguised as—possibly evade? In an instant, he swept her into his arms, carrying her as he leapt through the woods to escape. She struggled desperately, but against the man's overwhelming strength, she stood no chance.
That brute force she despised so much!
"Thud—" Mu Wan Yao was flung out and thrown into the water.
A waterfall cascaded from the mountaintop behind them, splashing into the pool and creating tiny seven-colored rainbows. Meng Zaishi had hurled Mu Wan Yao down so violently that she lost her footing in the pool, collapsing into the water.
Spray from the waterfall soaked her skirt and half her body. The spring water was bitingly cold. As Mu Wan Yao fell into the pool, her back struck a rock, and the floating ice shards cut painfully into her restrained hands. Though the water only reached her knees, the chill made her entire body tremble.
Sitting in the water, one hand groping behind her back for the small knife hidden in her sleeve, she lifted her face to glare at the fierce man looming over her, his eyes bloodshot.
Meng Zaishi pounced, seizing Mu Wan Yao by the throat and pinning her down. His hand clamped around her windpipe as he snarled coldly: "Mu Wan Yao! You're trying to kill me again!"
He roared: "A second time! A second time! I forgave you the first time, and now you try again! Do you want me dead that badly?"
With his grip choking her, Mu Wan Yao's upturned face took on a sickly pallor. Her pitch-black eyes fixed on him. Her hairpin had fallen into the water, her locks loosened, strands of dark hair floating on the surface while wet tendrils clung to her lower back.
She laughed at him: "Yes, I do want you dead. Are you only realizing this today? Surely not? Does Meng Zaishi, who aspires to be Steppe Overlord, only now understand I want you dead?"
Meng Zaishi tightened his grip, making her face flush crimson with hints of blue. Pinned beneath him, her back against the rock, she appeared utterly fragile in his palm—a mere squeeze away from death.
And she was so beautiful.
Flower-like youth with thorns that pierced anyone who approached. Cold yet dazzling, her dark icy pupils staring at him... This destructive beauty made Meng Zaishi's gaze waver, awakening the brutality within.
He lowered his head to kiss her.
A flash of white—Meng Zaishi jerked backward, his other hand swiftly capturing her treacherous wrist. Seeing the small knife in her hand, he hissed coldly: "You truly want me dead? Haven't I treated you well? Would being my queen be so terrible?"
Restrained by him, Mu Wan Yao responded with surprise: "I truly want you dead. Being your queen would absolutely be terrible!"
She cried sharply: "I finally escaped you and your father, finally left that nightmare behind! What right do you have to disturb me? What right to demand I return?"
Meng Zaishi's voice exploded with rage: "I'm disturbing you? You've always been mine! Everything you are today exists because of me! Look at you now—without me, who would have taught you how to be a woman—"
Mu Wan Yao tried to swing her knife again, but Meng Zaishi held her wrist as effortlessly as handling a chick.Mu Wan Yao's gaze flickered with a faint tremor, her voice filled with venom: "That's why I must kill you! That's why you are my disgrace! I won't let my shame follow me for the rest of my life, I won't let this nightmare last forever... You want me to enter a peace marriage? Then I want you dead! I swear eternal enmity with you!"
Meng Zaishi roared in fury: "It was my father who hurt you! Yet you blame everything on me?"
Mu Wan Yao: "None of you are good people!"
Meng Zaishi: "Were all those joyful moments we shared together in the past fake?"
Mu Wan Yao sneered: "What else? Would I fall in love with the son of the man who brought me shame? Would I love someone who trampled my dignity underfoot? Would I feel pity or compassion for my enemy? Have I gone mad—"
Meng Zaishi: "You are mad! In the past, I—"
Mu Wan Yao screamed: "It was you who drove me mad!"
She spoke each word deliberately: "Every moment, day and night, you've been driving me insane! You savages, you who understand nothing, with your incomprehensible language, crude behavior, chaotic ways, devoid of shame, devoid of guilt... Why should I be entangled with you? Why must you force me into this peace marriage..."
Meng Zaishi stared at her in stunned silence.
His gaze darkened, and without a word, he began tearing at her collar.
Mu Wan Yao shuddered violently, horrified: "You—"
Meng Zaishi ripped off her belt and used it to bind her flailing hands. The rushing water surrounded them, carrying a mournful tone like a funeral dirge. Meng Zaishi said coldly: "You call me a beast, say I humiliate you—then I'll truly show you humiliation—"
Gripping her face, he pressed close and whispered: "If the beautiful Danyang Princess is taken by the Uman King in the wilderness, do you think the Great Wei Emperor would still offer you to me? After all, it wouldn't be the first time—"
Pinned underwater by the man, sharp rocks scraping her back, her entire body went cold.
Her long hair tangled like vines, water droplets splashing across her face and lashes, yet her eyes remained clear and filled with hatred.
No fear, no terror—only hatred—
Mu Wan Yao's eyes blazed with venom: "How dare you! If you do this, for the rest of my life, I will be your eternal enemy! Day and night I'll think of escaping you, every moment I'll hate you! I'll resist you until my dying breath—you'll never possess me—"
Meng Zaishi's heart ached briefly.
Then he sneered: "You've always hated me anyway, so it doesn't matter..."
As he lowered his head, gripping her chin, his breath brushing her face, he suddenly sensed danger approaching from behind.
Meng Zaishi leaped up instantly, standing beneath the waterfall, drenched, and turned to see a bow aimed at him from higher ground among the trees. An arrow that had just been shot was firmly embedded in a rock in the water.
Had Meng Zaishi not dodged, that arrow would have pierced his heart.
Meng Zaishi looked up and met the gaze of Yan Shang, who stood on the high ridge, bow in hand.
Mu Wan Yao struggled to sit up in the pond, staring upward in a daze.
Robes fluttering in the spring sunlight, Yan Shang aimed his bow at him and shot another arrow at Meng Zaishi. Simultaneously, Meng Zaishi leaped to evade, when suddenly a black shadow flashed through the deep forest, swift as lightning!
Moving at extreme speed to avoid the arrow's trajectory, Meng Zaishi was struck in the chest by a powerful punch.
A black-clad youth appeared abruptly before him, forcing Meng Zaishi down into the pond beneath the waterfall.Meng Zaishi was forced to his knees by the youth, his knees scraping roughly over the stones in the pond as the scent of blood instantly permeated the air. Already injured and driven to this state by the coordinated efforts of the two, he broke into a fit of coughing.
The youth pinning his throat knelt alongside him in the pond and lifted his face.
Beneath thick, long lashes, his eyes were tranquil and icy.
It was Yang Si.
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