Gazing at the enchanting smile of the stunning girl, Ji Yanqing felt an inexplicable stir in his heart. He dismounted and approached the snow-dusted pavilion.
“Leaving friends without a word isn’t the way of a hero,” he said with a light chuckle, stepping beside the girl in a red fox-fur cloak. His brow was aloof, his bewitching peach-blossom eyes captivating.
Ji Qingyan sat on a cold stone bench, her jade-like hands resting on her waist, her slender legs primly together—meek and adorable, a far cry from her usual bold, heroic vigor.
Her figure was graceful, clad in a white lotus qipao under the vibrant red cloak, her snowy curves tightly wrapped. Her single ponytail was neat, with stray strands clinging to her tender cheeks, exuding a youthful charm.
The white silk draped, concealing her porcelain, slender legs, revealing only delicate deerhide boots.
Ji Qingyan’s cherry lips curved into a coy smile. “You came?”
“I came.”
“You finally came.”
“How’d you know I would?” Ji Yanqing asked.
“No certainty, just a guess,” she said softly after a pause. “But I bet right.”
With parting imminent, Ji Yanqing lost interest in bickering. He wiped frost from the bench and sat facing the qipao-clad girl.
“Leaving Ye City, heading straight back to your sect?” he asked.
Ji Qingyan shook her head, tilting it. “I might wander the martial world first, make a name, then return to Rakshasa Ancient Sect. When I’m trained and ready to fight evil, it’ll help to have friends.”
Ji Yanqing gave her a helpless look, advising, “In my humble opinion, you should hurry back. Your master must miss you. If you want fame, assassinating the Wei King’s Heir is the fastest route.”
She burst into a giggle, her eyes crescent moons, her voice crisp and pleasant. “So eager for me to leave, Your Highness? Afraid I’ll meet some young hero and snub you?”
In Ye City, she’d lost count of how often he teased her for jealousy. Now, with a rare chance, Ji Qingyan seized her revenge.
In her mental ledger, favors and grudges were separate. She owed him greatly, but she swore to erase the humiliations at the Wei King’s Mansion—no conflict there.
Yet, Ji Qingyan, confident in her upper hand, overlooked a key detail: her bickering record against Ji Yanqing was near zero wins.
“That’s one reason…” he replied lightly.
Before she could mock his jealousy, his next words nearly made her grind her teeth. “Mainly, I’d hate to collect your corpse if you die in the streets. Your sect leader might blame me.”
He spoke with mock regret, as if she were already gone.
“You’re scared of my master?” she asked.
“Well, I’d hate for the thousand-year legacy of Rakshasa, one of the seven sects, to end and fade from history. What a sin,” he teased.
Suppressing the urge to stab him, she retorted, “My master’s at Transformation Realm’s peak, the top below the Three Immortals and Nine Saints, revered in the martial world…”
“Oh, how coincidental. My father’s one of the Nine Saints,” he cut in.
“Ugh…” Ji Qingyan muttered, frustration gripping her.
Wei King Ji Yang, a common ruffian with no lineage, honed his realm through campaigns with Yanxia’s Emperor Taizu. Leading thirty thousand ferocious cavalry, he sacked the Western Liang court, seizing the incomplete Source Dao-tier Dragon-Elephant Wild Vigor, breaking through to Sagehood.
That feat shook Yanxia’s martial world, earning awe.
Had Yanxia not unified the realm, her master, a “near-Sage,” paled beside Ji Yang’s true Sagehood—a chasm-like gap.
“Snow’s falling. May I borrow some wine to warm up, Heroine?” Ji Yanqing asked politely, wrapping his black cloak tighter.
Ji Qingyan nodded instinctively, thinking it normal for friends to share wine, until he took the flask she’d sipped from multiple times, its rim bearing her lip marks.
He drank lightly, a tipsy flush spreading across his jade-like face. “Strong stuff,” he remarked.
“Just average. Someone’s just a lightweight,” she teased, snatching the flask and gulping, unfazed save for a slight choke.
“A true heroine with a sea’s capacity,” he praised.
She smiled, her phoenix eyes gleaming with pride, forgetting they’d shared the flask.
“That rouge I gave you—do you carry it?” he asked, raising a brow.
She nearly lied, saying she tossed it in a lake, but his clear eyes stopped her. After this parting, who knew when they’d meet again?
Fine, she’d concede once.
She bent, opened her bundle, and pulled out the ornate rouge box. “I’ve got it.”
“Then I can’t drink your wine for free,” Ji Yanqing said, standing, opening the box, and moving behind her. “I promised to apply it once. I keep my word.”
“Mmm…” Ji Qingyan murmured, her face flushing—perhaps from wine, perhaps shyness, or both.
She sat still, letting the peach-eyed youth work.
He undid her neat ponytail, gently shaping her inky hair into a Lingxu bun, pinning it with a snowy plum branch. He applied rouge lightly, crafting a fairy-like, enchanting look.
Charming as spring peaches, pure as autumn chrysanthemums.
Gazing at her reflection in his dark jade eyes, Ji Qingyan hesitated, clutching her skirt, and finally asked, “Your Highness, how’s a girl to respond to this?”
“If you want to repay me, pledge yourself,” he said lightly.
Her cherry lips parted, her voice faint, lost in the swelling snowstorm…
On the eve of Lantern Festival, urgent military reports flew to Chang’an. Western regions broke treaties, and border towns, including Yizhou, were in crisis.
Emperor Yanxia’s vermilion brush appointed Wei King Ji Yang to lead the campaign, resuming the decade-halted Western Conquest, and urgently summoned Ji Yanqing to Chang’an.
Officially, to study at the Imperial Academy; bluntly, as a hostage to control the Wei King’s army.
The next evening, swift hooves galloped into Ye City, heading for the Wei King’s Mansion. Leading was a youthful eunuch in brocade, androgynous, the powerful Wang Zhu, Chief Eunuch of the Ceremonial Directorate.
Eyeing the plaque “Imperial Wei King’s Mansion,” he skipped formalities, ordering an attendant to fetch a gilded dragon-patterned nanmu box, reverently extracting the Emperor’s decree.
“Wei King’s Heir Ji Yanqing, receive the holy edict,” Wang Zhu announced.
“Subject Ji Yanqing receives the decree, wishing His Majesty peace,” Ji Yanqing, fresh from seeing off Ji Qingyan, hurried out, bowing respectfully.
“His Majesty is well,” Wang Zhu replied, unfurling the decree:
“By Heaven’s mandate, I, the Emperor, have heard of the Wei King’s son’s wayward nature and reckless acts. Ji Yanqing is ordered to depart immediately for Chang’an’s Imperial Academy to study and refine himself. Thus decreed.”
“Subject Ji Yanqing receives and thanks His Majesty,” Ji Yanqing replied.