Chapter 60

Where It All Began

Lidu Prefecture was under martial law.

The city, which had been filled with music and dancing the day before, now seemed as though an evil wind had swept through, leaving it desolate. The flower lanterns, left behind in haste, swayed in the chilly wind, a reminder of the once-vibrant festivities.

No one dared to walk the streets, fearing an encounter with the Qi soldiers who were hunting for rebels. Anyone suspected of being a member of the rebel faction would be arrested for interrogation.

The painted boat was called back, and the Qi soldiers searched it thoroughly, inside and out, finding only the corpse of a dancer. The dancer had died from a throat slash, and in her hand was a tassel from a sword, as if it had been unintentionally torn off the killer’s blade. Gu Sha felt the tassel looked familiar, but for a moment, he couldn’t recall whose it was.

Upon further investigation, it was revealed that the dancer was likely a courtesan from Huazhao Pavilion, though she wore a human skin mask. Gui Lai Tang confirmed that she had been their hidden pawn on the boat.

The killer was undoubtedly someone from the Bingchu Si faction, but the owner of the tassel remained unidentified, turning it into an unsolved case.

As for Xie Zhu, he had disappeared without a trace. The storm caused by Prince Ling’an’s actions had also left no sign of him.

That night, another major figure died: Huang Yankun, the governor of Lidu Prefecture, was assassinated in his carriage.

The coachman committed suicide during interrogation, and the identity of the killer remained unknown, leaving no useful clues behind.

Further investigation revealed that a soldier had entered the gatehouse with the governor’s token, but at the time, everyone was focused on the unrest along the river, and no one paid attention to the soldier’s appearance. Thus, the trail went cold again.

Another person was also missing from the city—Xie Que Shan.

Xie Que Shan was supposed to be on the painted boat at Sifang Bridge, but instead, he boarded at Yonggui Bridge and then disappeared from the boat, leaving no trace.

The situation grew more mysterious, and the people of Lidu Prefecture were filled with unease.

Gu Sha, having lost both his wife and soldiers, acted like a mad dog, snapping at anyone who crossed his path. Anyone who encountered his fury would end up suffering.

The most frustrating part was that he had invested heavily in Zhang Yuehui, only to see his efforts go to waste. The merchant had clearly warned him that the information might not be true, but Gu Sha had promised, whether the information was accurate or not, that it had nothing to do with him.

There was no place to vent his anger.

However, Zhang Yuehui, seemingly the only winner, was not as happy as one might have expected.

Huazhao Pavilion was unusually quiet today. There were no customers, only the occasional waiter bustling about to clean.

The sound of a qin playing faintly from the distance seemed distracted and restless.

After idly plucking a few strings, Zhang Yuehui lost interest and stopped. It was rare for him to be lost in thought like this, but at this moment, he was indeed in deep contemplation.

Luo Ci stood nearby, confused.

“Boss, since you already suspected that the Bingchu Si’s plan was a scam, why did you let things unfold like this...”

“Tell me, who is worth more—Xie Zhu or Prince Ling’an?”

“Naturally, Prince Ling’an.”

“I’m a businessman. I want to make the most valuable deals. Doubt is one thing, but until we have concrete information, anything is possible. What I’m selling is the possibility that Prince Ling’an will board the boat. If we invalidate that possibility ourselves, won’t we be cutting off our source of profit?”

Luo Ci didn’t understand. Since the boss had already figured everything out, what was there left to misunderstand? Was it because they had lost a key player like Chang Yan?

Chang Yan’s identity had already been discovered by the Bingchu Si and had no way of surviving. The boss’s actions were also aimed at maximizing their profits.

Xu Zhou looked at the young woman kneeling before the Buddha statue. The vibrant colors that had adorned her when they first met had faded, leaving only a dazzling white, like sunlight from a distant sky.

“Your Highness, from now on, I will protect you, until you ascend the throne, until I die,” she said, word by word, as if swearing an oath to the Buddha.

Xu Zhou felt a pang of regret. “Miss Xie, why act so impulsively?”

“I am not acting impulsively, Your Highness,” Xie Sui’an replied with a pale smile. “After leaving the Buddha hall last time, my loss of composure almost revealed your hiding place. I realized that my nature is not suited for being a spy in such a complex environment. So, I chose to hide in the shadows, becoming a sword to protect you.”

“You could leave all this behind and live a normal woman’s life. The Xie family would protect you for your whole life.”

“But who else will protect Your Highness now?”

Xu Zhou stood still for a long time, looking up at the Buddha. But the Buddha said nothing.

________________________________________

When Nan Yi awoke again, she felt as if she had returned to the starting point.

The snow-covered Tiger Kneeling Mountain, the place where she had first fled, now felt like a distant memory. When she opened her eyes, she was still on a desolate mountain path.

Her hands were bound behind her back, and her body was lying across the back of a horse, her head hanging downward. All she could see were the hooves of the horse and the road beneath it.

It was a wild horse, with rough fur and no horseshoes. The horse carried her to an unknown destination. She tried to move but could not turn over.

However, she could sense that someone was blocking the wind behind her, and there was another person on the horse.

Was it him? He didn’t kill her?

The horse’s hooves soon stopped in front of an abandoned hunting cabin.

Xie Que Shan dismounted and walked in front of her. Her view was upside down, and all she could see were the bloodstains on his sleeve and his slow movements.

This indicated that the struggle on the boat had indeed happened—she had wounded him. After their falling out, there should have been no more room between them. But he hadn’t killed her immediately. What was he doing bringing her here?

She strained to lift her head, filled with vigilance and hostility, looking at him. They had already drawn their weapons against each other. There was no need for pretenses now—no need to fake pity, stupidity, or pleading for mercy. They were nothing but naked enemies.

But when facing him, what terrified her most was that she could never guess what he would do next, like staring into a depthless abyss.

Without saying a word, he grabbed her off the horse and dragged her into the hunting cabin, not giving her a chance to resist.

There were many hunting cabins like this one in Tiger Kneeling Mountain, temporary resting places for hunters. At this time of year, the weather in the mountains was harsh, and game was scarce, so the hunting cabins were naturally abandoned, with few people coming by.

To prevent wild animals from entering through the windows at night, the only window in the room had been nailed shut with an iron bar.

It resembled a cage.

Before Nan Yi could hesitate, Xie Que Shan roughly pushed her to the window. His injury was severe; his chest and robe were soaked in blood, a sight that was chilling.

A person in extreme pain becomes like a beast. He had lost all patience with Nan Yi, and every movement was unrelenting. He loosened the rope slightly, intending to tie her to the iron bars, but she was not one to passively submit. As soon as she felt the restraint loosen, she struggled fiercely.

His strength was still overwhelming. He immediately pressed his body against hers, holding both of her wrists tightly. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that she was instinctively protecting the jade bracelet on her right wrist. His gaze darkened.

This was not the genteel and restrained Snowfall Valley; here, even the smallest of emotions would be magnified and could be released at any moment. He ruthlessly lifted her arm above her head, slamming her wrist against the iron bars in a show of dominance.

The jade bracelet struck the bars with a sharp, ringing sound.

The iron bars vibrated, and the echo buzzed in her mind. Nan Yi felt as if she were frozen in place. Immediately, the ropes wrapped around her, securing her hands tightly to the bars.

This was his silent warning: at this moment, she was like fish on a chopping block, to be slaughtered at will. She could not even save her own life, let alone that small jade bracelet.

“Xie Que Shan—what do you want? Why don’t you just kill me!”

She shouted at him in despair.

He froze for a moment.

This face, which he had seen countless times, now bore an unfamiliar expression. For the first time, she called his full name, exposing the beastly fangs within her. This was her truest self, and he could not deny it—she was weak, yet strong.

It was this side of her that had always stirred his emotions.

A hidden desire to conquer arose within him. Watching her still struggle, unwilling to give up on breaking free from the ropes, he roughly forced her hand open, sliding his fingers between hers, deliberately interlocking their fingers, trapping her with nowhere to escape.

Captivity and entanglement were two sides of the same coin.

He panted, every movement pulling at his torn wounds. It was a lose-lose situation, but he did not stop. His gaze shamelessly took in every subtle emotion on her face.

Nan Yi suddenly felt uneasy. It seemed as though he was slowly unleashing a monster, a monster that had almost broken free in several moments from the past. She had never seen what it was, but she knew the feeling when it arrived.

They were too close, close like two beasts entwined with each other, shedding their humanity and dignity, leaving only claws and wounds.

Even they did not know whether the next moment would be one of battle or embrace.