At the Imperial Grandson’s Residence, a fair-skinned, delicate-looking youth stood before Xiao Wuji. He had neither eyebrows nor facial hair—a man incomplete by nature.
"Your Highness, have you considered my offer?"
Xiao Wuji coughed twice, his complexion turning even paler.
"Young Master Sun is the foster son of Grand Eunuch Cai Fu. If I were to turn you away after you’ve come here in person, I would be showing a lack of respect for Grand Eunuch Cai Fu..."
As he spoke, he cast a glance at the black-robed figure kneeling in the distance, guarded by several Imperial Guards. The eunuchs from the palace had claimed that this man was the assassin sent to kill him, and that he was theirs to dispose of. But the true purpose of their visit was the faction this man represented. They wanted to suppress the matter entirely; in their eyes, Xiao Wuji’s life had been spared by the Princess Royal. And now that he had personally killed his own father, the Emperor was likely planning to make use of him. If he insisted on pursuing the assassination attempt, it would make things difficult for everyone.
How could Xiao Wuji not see through their intentions? Perhaps this, too, was the Emperor’s first test for him. If he was to be the Emperor’s blade, he could not be burdened by personal feelings. He had to understand the Emperor’s goals, do what the Emperor desired, and achieve the results the Emperor sought. Thus, sending Sun Ling—Cai Fu’s foster son—was a clear signal of the Emperor’s attitude.
Xiao Wuji smiled, rose to his feet, and slowly approached the kneeling figure in black. The assassin was not afraid; he looked up and stared straight at him, as if implying that if Xiao Wuji did not kill him now, he would be nothing but a coward.
How laughable.
Xiao Wuji squatted down to look the man in the eye. Suddenly, he asked, "Do you ever get to see flowers in your daily life?"
Sun Ling was stunned, let alone the assassin.
Xiao Wuji smiled and looked out the window. "I do..."
In the next instant, he snatched the long sword from the guard beside him. With a single flick of his wrist, he slashed across the assassin's eyes. Blood sprayed out, splattering onto Xiao Wuji.
"A lowly creature, daring to look at me like that."
Xiao Wuji smiled as his blade carved through the assassin’s limbs one by one. Driven by the agony, the assassin let out a shrill, piercing scream. But this pain was nothing compared to what Xiao Wuji had endured over the years. He had been poisoned, and his strength was waning; it took some effort to kill the man. One could say he wasn't killed by the sword, but rather... died of sheer agony.
Even Sun Ling, a eunuch who had seen his share of cruelty, looked on with astonishment. It wasn't that he was frightened, but he hadn't expected the ethereal Imperial Grandson to have such a side—descending into hell, transforming from a celestial being into a vengeful ghost.
Stained with blood, Xiao Wuji laughed. When their eyes met, Sun Ling instinctively lowered his gaze.
"Young Master Sun, the man who tried to assassinate me is dead."
"I assume no one else in the Capital will try to kill me from now on, will they?"
Sun Ling paused, then looked up at the radiantly smiling Xiao Wuji. "Your Highness, what are you saying? In this Capital, who would dare to harm you now..."
After leaving the Imperial Grandson’s Residence, Sun Ling broke into a cold sweat for reasons unknown. He had just wiped his brow when someone rushed toward him in a panic. "Master Sun! Something terrible has happened! Prince Han has been assassinated and is severely wounded! They say he isn't going to make it!"
Sun Ling froze, nearly dropping what he was holding. "What!"
He hopped onto his carriage without a second thought. "Turn back! Go back to my father! This is going to be a disaster!"
***
At the Capital Suburban Garrison, Prince Han vomited blood again and again. All the soldiers outside the main tent knelt on the ground, eyes red, watching the military physicians rush in and out with basins of bloodied water.
"Wang Meng! You bastard! We entrusted you with the Prince's safety, and this is how you protected him!"
Infighting broke out among the generals. Wang Meng, who had been with Prince Han, was covered in blood, his eyes hollow, as a fellow officer slammed a fist into his face, knocking him to the ground. He glared back, his eyes bloodshot, but he couldn't utter a word.
Other generals pulled the assailant away. "Zhao Ming! The assassins were too powerful; you can't blame all of this on General Wang!"
"Exactly! General Zhao, stop!"
Wang Meng was helped up. He didn't look at the main tent, but rather toward the direction of the Capital.
"These people..." he whispered, his voice trembling. "Why can they not just let the Prince live?"
He muttered to himself, "The Prince and Duke Dingguo have defended Daqing for so many years. Not to mention their contributions, the hardships and trials they’ve suffered—which of those are not far greater than the sacrifices of these power-mongers sitting comfortably in the Capital?"
Zhao Ming froze, then grabbed Wang Meng by the collar. "You know who it is! You know who assassinated the Prince, don't you!"
Wang Meng only shook his head. The imperial physicians, summoned by royal decree, finally arrived and were hurried inside by the soldiers. Zhao Ming followed them, temporarily dropping the confrontation with Wang Meng.
Wang Meng gritted his teeth and headed in the opposite direction. Inside an inconspicuous tent in the garrison, devoid of candlelight and plunged in darkness, Wang Meng took two steps in before a sharp, glinting blade pressed against his throat.
"My lady, I’ve come here because I’ve made up my mind."
Wang Meng clenched his jaw. "The Prince... he wants me to relay a message to you."
In the darkness, Lingxiao, covered in wounds, slowly emerged. She watched him in silence. "Speak."
"You are the person who suddenly appeared in the dungeon to take the Imperial Grandson, aren't you?" Wang Meng asked.
Lingxiao narrowed her eyes. "Yes."
"And you were the one who took him from his residence to witness the execution of Duke Dingguo, correct?"
"Yes."
"You truly have a way to make the Imperial Grandson... live, to keep him alive for a longer time, right?"
"Hmm..."
Wang Meng’s eyes reddened as he took a deep breath. "The Prince says he agrees. But he needs at least two more days. In these two days, do you have a way to sustain his... life force?"
Lingxiao’s hand hesitated, then she sheathed her blade. "Why do you think I would have a way?"
Wang Meng looked at her, recalling that moments ago, Lingxiao had been pierced through the chest with a lethal strike, yet now she stood there with more vitality than even he possessed. Wasn't that proof enough? The Prince had witnessed her fighting through the assassins like a whirlwind, as if she were immortal. No matter how many wounds she took or how much pain she endured, she only frowned and threw herself back into the fray with even greater madness.
But how could a person possess a body that didn't fear pain, and how could they truly be immortal?
The Prince had gripped his hand earlier, saying through gritted teeth, "I need two days. I cannot die yet..."
"This woman belongs to Wuji."
"Seeing her here, I know that Wuji is a brilliant..."
"Tell her I agree."
Lingxiao lowered her head. Fearing she might disagree, Wang Meng urged, "The Prince has already agreed! He never lies, and he will never break his word!"
"My lady! Please, wait two more days! Just these two days—let our Prince finish what he needs to do!"
"Those matters also concern the Imperial Grandson!"
Lingxiao looked at Wang Meng. She... actually did have a way to keep Prince Han alive. She touched the Ghost Envoy Token in the void—not by using one of her three chances to ask Yama for help, but by utilizing the token's inherent ability: *Soul Detention*.
She had a way to bind Prince Han’s soul to his physical body for two days. She could see now that Prince Han’s vitality was at its end. Between the assassins, the Yanyu Pavilion’s contract, and his own illness, it was a triple threat. If any of them succeeded, he would be dead.
She had arrived at the right time, yet at the wrong time. She could take Prince Han’s head in exchange for information on Yanyu Pavilion, but she couldn't save his life or bring him back from the dead. She was helpless against his illness; it had struck too suddenly and violently, just like the poison in the Imperial Grandson’s body, against which she had no solution.
"My lady!"
Wang Meng knelt on the ground, seemingly sensing something. In the main tent, Prince Han vomited another large mouthful of blood. His eyes began to glaze over, and the surrounding physicians sighed in unison. Some knelt on the ground and began to weep quietly. The generals outside the tent seemed to hear the news and knelt in agony, unable to accept the reality.
Lingxiao finally moved. "Very well. I will keep him alive for two days."
Wang Meng looked up in joy, but Lingxiao had vanished.
A black shadow flashed through the tent, and a ripple poured down from the top of the tent. Xiao Fenglin saw Lingxiao perched above. She held a token, and in the next moment, countless chains erupted from it, rushing toward him!
He was instantly bound by the chains and yanked around, only to see himself lying on the bed with his eyes wide open. Xiao Fenglin was startled, finally realizing that he had already died—his soul had departed his body.
A black and white figure approached in the distance, but he heard the girl say, "His life needs to be kept for two more days."
The figures paused, bowed to the girl, and dissolved into white mist. His world turned, and in the next moment, he opened his eyes once more within his own body.
"Cough, cough!"
Prince Han's coughing startled everyone. The physicians rushed back to his side, while Lingxiao leaned against the rafters, enduring the pain of her body slowly healing. Her wounds were severe; her internal organs had been pierced. It was her own fault—she had the strength but hadn't learned how to deal with elite assassins; her martial arts were lacking, and she wasn't sharp enough. But her greatest advantage was this body. Being able to shield Prince Han from injury while taking out nearly a hundred assassins proved her capability.
"It’s a miracle! The Prince’s condition has improved significantly!"
Hearing the voices of the physicians below, Lingxiao closed her eyes. She had done what she promised. Now, it was up to Prince Han.
In the dead of night, she jumped down from the rafters. Prince Han sat up from the bed and fell to his knees before her with a "thud." "Milady, thank you!"
Having witnessed Lingxiao’s methods, Prince Han now regarded her as a supernatural being.
Lingxiao paused, then shook her head. "I am no 'Milady.' Prince, in two days, at this very time, I will come to take your head."
Prince Han nodded, then smiled. "With you by Wuji’s side, I can rest easy."
He bowed to her once more. "Thank you for giving me these two days. I will certainly leave behind... a path to the heavens for Wuji!"
For some reason, Lingxiao saw the aura of destiny surrounding Prince Han beginning to converge. Though it was but a faint wisp, it was moving toward him, rather than leaking out as it had before, as if he had been pierced by a gaping hole.
Lingxiao said nothing more and left directly. She still had a little girl to settle. She hadn't been back in a day, and she didn't know how Azhu was doing.