The secret passage was winding, with no end in sight. Stepping deeper into the depths under the dim glow of the torches, the summer heat upon Zhao Yen’s body completely vanished, leaving behind only a bone-piercing chill.

The walls were damp, jagged strange rocks hung upside down overhead, and from time to time drops of stagnant water dripped down.

Gu Xing crouched down, brushing his hand across a puddle on the ground. After probing for a moment, he finally lifted his eyes to stare straight into the darkness ahead: “The footprints are very fresh, about a dozen people escaped this way. There must be an exit ahead.”

The group stepped through the uneven ground, trudging one deep one shallow, and after another hundred steps or so, the narrow secret passage gradually widened, arriving at a naturally formed stone cave, the dampness even heavier.

Gu Xing, who was opening the way in front, suddenly halted, raising his hand to signal everyone to be on guard: “The footprints have disappeared, beware of an ambush.”

As soon as the words fell, several human shadows flashed swiftly across the stone wall. Immediately after, the sudden sound of bowstrings breaking the air rang out, several short crossbow bolts shooting straight at their faces.

“Protect Her Highness!” Gu Xing gave a low shout, raising his blade to cut down two arrows in succession.

The other two bodyguards also drew their blades, well-trained. Zhao Yen pressed her body tightly against the protruding rock wall at the corner, beside her ears only hearing the clashing sounds of arrows and blades, sparks bursting in an instant.

In order to squeeze through that stone gate earlier, the bodyguards had all removed their armor and gone into battle lightly equipped. Under the continuous assault of hidden arrows, they did not hold the advantage.

“The enemy is hidden while we are exposed, we cannot meet them head-on.”

Gu Xing threw the torch in his hand into the puddle, panting, “Your Highness, hide well and do not move.”

Zhao Yen held her short blade and nodded. The torch was extinguished in the water, and the surroundings instantly fell into pitch darkness.

The ambushers, having lost their target, randomly shot a few more cold arrows, then fell silent.

Zhao Yen knew they had not left, but were lurking in the dark like wild beasts, waiting for their prey to grow impatient and expose flaws.

The moisture seeping from the stone walls soaked through Zhao Yen’s clothing. She held her breath, sensing extremely light footsteps approaching in the darkness, and immediately raised the short blade in her hand!

“Your Highness, it is us.” Gu Xing groped his way over.

Zhao Yen’s taut heart finally relaxed a little, hearing Gu Xing whisper, pressing down his voice: “The crossbow bolts cannot turn corners; behind the stone wall bend it is temporarily safe.”

“But to remain in deadlock like this is no solution either.”

Another bodyguard had been struck by an arrow, his breathing slightly disordered. “The other side will sooner or later find this place.”

In this kind of situation, naturally they could not confront head-on. But having come this far, without firelight to guide the way, to turn back was also unrealistic.

Amidst the extreme darkness and deathly stillness, what clearly emerged in Zhao Yen’s mind was, unexpectedly, the scene in the Wenhua Hall when she had listened to Wenren lecturing on military strategy.

She calmed herself, speaking softly: “At present everyone is blind. Who kills whom is still uncertain.”

“Your Highness means?”

“Cast stones as bait, lure the enemy near. We counter-kill them.”

Once their eyes had somewhat adjusted to the darkness, Gu Xing pinched up a pebble and tossed it into a puddle not far away. In the darkness, this slight sound was infinitely magnified, striking crisp echoes off the stone walls.

The nearest assassin, hearing the noise, immediately raised his blade to strike. Already waiting there, the two Eastern Palace guards rushed together and seized him. With a sharp twist of his neck, the man collapsed limply.

Gu Xing again deliberately stepped on a puddle to make sound, working in perfect coordination with his subordinates. By the same method, they successively dealt with the second and third men.

The remaining two assassins, seeing the situation turn unfavorable, both concealed themselves, no longer showing their faces.

If they wished to move forward smoothly, they must eliminate them.

That wounded bodyguard also realized this point, and volunteered: “This subordinate will act as bait to draw out those two.”

Zhao Yen said with concern: “You are wounded, it is too dangerous.”

“Your Highness, be at ease. This subordinate has followed Commander Gu for many years, this bit of tacit understanding we still have. To be able to fight shoulder to shoulder with Your Highness, this subordinate’s life is worth it!”

Having spoken, that bodyguard strode forward, pulling out the fire fuse taken from the assassin’s corpse, blowing it alight, and shouted loudly: “I surrender, do not kill me!”

Two cold arrows shot forth, the bodyguard barely dodging, continuing to lure the enemy.

Another two cold arrows shot out; Gu Xing saw clearly the direction of the arrows, and pressed his blade, quietly circling near.

The crossbowman hiding in the dark once again raised his arm to nock the arrow, the arrowhead aimed at the bodyguard below whose strength was nearly exhausted, completely unaware that Gu Xing had already climbed onto the stone platform, circling behind him.

A chill upon his neck, that crossbowman’s eyes widened as he fell from the stone platform, no longer making a sound.

The last assassin, seeing the situation lost, immediately turned and fled toward the exit.

Zhao Yen knew that once he escaped, he would surely return to report and seek reinforcements. She could not help but give a low shout: “Gu Xing!”

Gu Xing raised his blade and hurled it. The blade broke through the air, and that man fell on the spot.

Once certain all the assassins were dealt with, Zhao Yen quickly stepped forward, seizing the one assassin who was still clinging to life: “Where is the Heir of Prince Yong?”

The assassin trembled wordlessly, opening his mouth to bite his tongue in suicide, but the Eastern Palace guard nimbly dislocated his jaw.

“He cannot have gone far.”

Zhao Yen sheathed her short blade and instructed the guards: “Tie him up and leave him here. Later, he can count as a witness.”

Having cleared away the obstacles, going forward not far, the air gradually grew fresher. A faint bluish glimmer appeared ahead.

Zhao Yen supported herself against the stone wall and stepped out of the secret passage. The stifling mountain wind rushed against her face. By the faint moonlight spilling through the heavy clouds, she realized she had passed through the belly of the entire mountain and come to a strange suburban outskirt.

The wind stirred the dense mountain trees into swaying shadows, as if cackling with cold laughter. Several figures were sitting around a campfire resting.

Seeing Zhao Yen and her party emerge safely, Zhao Yuanyu turned pale with shock, scrambling up in panic and fleeing.

“Zhao Yuanyu!”

Zhao Yen clutched tightly at the lotus-patterned jade pendant at her waist, her voice hoarse: “Stop!”

How would Zhao Yuanyu dare stop? Leading the few bodyguards left to him, he ran madly, vanishing into the ruined streets at the end of the road.

Rain was about to fall, the stars and moon without light. Someone’s broken lantern was blown down by the wind, shattering against a cracked boundary tablet at the roadside. The four characters “Liu Clan Charitable Manor” were faintly visible.

The Liu great clan had already declined during the rebel purge last year. The charitable estate at the roadside was desolate and empty, most suitable for vermin to hide.

Gu Xing guarded at her front, pressing his blade: “Your Highness, the other side’s tracks disappeared as soon as they entered the manor. They must be hiding in the dark.”

As if to confirm his words, the sound of dry branches snapping came from behind.

Zhao Yen turned her head, only to see Zhao Yuanyu—who had just fled in panic—stepping forward with a sinister smile, stamping heavily on the broken lantern under his foot.

“Clinging like a ghost that will not disperse, you actually dared chase up here. Since when did your courage grow so large?”

Zhao Yuanyu raised his hand in signal. From all directions of the street, the Prince Yong’s Mansion guards surrounded them, each pair of eyes brimming with vicious light.

…

On the second floor of the charitable manor’s posthouse, Wenren Lin stood in the darkness with his hands clasped behind his back, overlooking from the broken window rattling in the wind.

Following the tracks, he had ridden hard and arrived just in time to catch this fine play.

Zhang Cang, seeing that the young Crown Prince was truly weak and lacking support, his splendid and exquisite clothing now somewhat disheveled from the long journey’s bumps and hardships, could not help but ask: “My Lord, shall this subordinate lead men to lend a hand…”

Before he finished, Cai Tian gave him a sharp jab with his elbow, shaking his head to signal him not to speak further.

Outside the violent wind was raging, yet in the darkness Wenren Lin stood immovably upright. His face was as heavy as still water, his pitch-black eyes falling coldly upon that slender figure standing in confrontation, without the slightest trace of emotion.

Zhang Cang inexplicably shivered, swallowing back the unfinished words into his belly: this time, the Prince must truly have been angered.

The empty, ruined street, fallen leaves rolled across.

Zhao Yen roughly estimated Zhao Yuanyu’s men—about six or seven. To fight might not be without hope. But if he were let go, it would be no different from releasing a tiger back to the mountain, leaving endless troubles behind.

Zhao Yen asked Gu Xing: “Can you still fight?”

Gu Xing and the others, without the slightest hesitation: “Willing to go through fire and boiling water for Your Highness!”

“Good.”

Zhao Yen’s gaze was resolute. She stepped forward against the wind, speaking in a clear voice toward the Prince Yong’s Mansion guards: “Assassinating the Crown Prince of Great Xuan is a capital crime that punishes nine clans. Even if you do not think for yourselves, you must think of wives and kin. I know all of you heroes are constrained by others, compelled by helplessness to follow Zhao Yuanyu. As long as you are willing to lay down your blades and turn back at the cliff’s edge, and help me capture this traitor, there will surely be heavy reward!”

Those guards were not assassins. Hearing Zhao Yen’s words, several faint-hearted ones were already wavering.

“He lies, he is not the Crown Prince!”

Seeing the guards step back a pace, Zhao Yuanyu panicked, snatching a guard’s saber and pointing it at Zhao Yen, snarling viciously: “Kill him! When I become the Crown Prince of the Eastern Palace, you all will be founding ministers who followed the dragon, all will be granted marquisates and titles! Only I can give you everything you desire!”

At this moment, it depended on whose offered interests were most tempting. Clearly, the deranged Zhao Yuanyu had reached the pinnacle in selling offices and bartering titles.

When blades clashed, torrential rain poured down.

On the inn’s upper floor, Wenren Lin listened to the patter of rain striking the eaves, his brows faintly furrowing.

He slowly rubbed the jade-inlaid ring on his forefinger with his thumb, his eyes lowered, unmoving.

Just now, galloping all the way, Wenren Lin had thought of a hundred methods to punish the little Princess’s disobedience, hating that he could not lock her at his side, so she could no longer open her mouth to lie, no longer run about recklessly…

Yet at this moment, seeing her with her frail figure standing against Zhao Yuanyu, he instead calmed.

Beneath the calm surface was an unquenchable surge.

Wenren Lin wanted to see how much courage Zhao Yen had prepared to bear the truth, that she would risk defying him to plunge into this case, and how long she could persist without regret or sobbing.

By then, he would step leisurely onto the stage, to properly savor upon her beautiful, fragile face that pitiful, tear-streaked wretchedness.

Boom—

Thunder exploded, purple lightning tore open a ghastly fissure in the rainy night.

Gu Xing, held back, turned his blade to cut down the charging foe, shouting toward Zhao Yen not far away: “Your Highness!”