The sky served as a canopy, the night as dark as ink, the blood moon gradually veiled by clouds.
At the bottom of the river valley, a gentle breeze brushed against the cheeks, soothing and pleasant. The stream murmured softly, serene and tranquil, while reeds lined the shore, white as snow, swaying and dancing in the wind.
The red-clad heroine carried the pale-faced Heir of the Wei King on her back, darting forward like a phantom.
Her afterimage flickered, her black skirt billowing in the wind. In the blink of an eye, she was already a hundred paces away.
A Transformation Realm expert could cover a thousand miles in a day, faster than an ordinary steed. If not for carrying the deadweight Ji Yanqing, her speed would have been even swifter.
A faint, elegant fragrance wafted to his nose, like freshly bloomed roses, refreshing and calming, easing even the tension of being hunted.
His Highness the Heir, well-versed in the ways of romance, could discern the type and origin of perfumes used by the girls in the pleasure houses.
Yet, those courtesans’ powders paled in comparison to Ji Qingyan’s natural scent.
Between perfume and body fragrance, men always preferred the latter.
[What a captivating little vixen. Smelling her scent, tinged with a hint of sweat, you can barely hold back. The current position is perfect for venting some passion, even if it’s through clothes…]
Beast!
In terms of depravity, ten original sleazy villains stacked together would be mere ants before this scummy narrator.
Though the allure of this tender embrace was tempting, to Ji Yanqing, it was but a fleeting illusion. Taking small advantages was fine, but he couldn’t afford to indulge.
“Heroine Ji… there’s something I’m not sure I should mention,” Ji Yanqing asked cautiously, while secretly gauging the girl’s mood.
His father and Ji Qingyan shared a blood feud. Though the game’s plot hinted at hidden truths, without direct evidence, there was no chance of resolving it with mere words.
But, as they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. And the Wei King’s Mansion and Heroine Ji shared one such common foe—Prime Minister Liu Sili.
“Young Master, speak freely. There’s no need for such… formality between us…”
Ji Qingyan trailed off, suddenly realizing she’d known this handsome youth for less than two hours.
By all accounts, they were barely acquaintances, not even friends.
Yet, she felt an inexplicable fondness for this strikingly beautiful, virtuous young master. Even with his arms around her slender waist, she didn’t feel repulsed.
Could it be…?
Ji Qingyan’s lithe figure stiffened, her veiled fairy-like face flushing an enticing red, like a freshly ripened lychee, pale yet pink, breathtakingly gorgeous.
Thanks to the veil, Ji Yanqing didn’t notice her change and continued, “The Ji clan was always small, and Heroine’s family was tragically slaughtered by that cur Ji Yang. I’ve had my suspicions—may I ask if Heroine knows Qiu Chengbo, Ji Wen?”
After a brief hesitation, Ji Qingyan replied softly, “Ji Wen was my father.”
“I never imagined Heroine was the daughter of Lord Qiu Chengbo. My earlier words were presumptuous; please, Miss Ji, don’t take offense.”
Ji Yanqing feigned surprise, then shifted gears: “But if that’s the case, the grudge between Heroine and the Wei King’s Mansion… may not be what you think…”
“What do you mean?”
The red-clad woman slowed her pace, her brows furrowing slightly.
“If a thief kills in a bustling market with a dagger, is the fault with the thief or the dagger in his hand?” Instead of answering, Ji Yanqing posed another question.
“Naturally, the thief’s fault,” Ji Qingyan replied without hesitation, her puzzled eyes seeming to say, “Does that even need asking?”
“Exactly,” Ji Yanqing nodded approvingly. “In the Ji clan’s massacre, that old dog Ji Yang played the role of the dagger. Heroine, why chase the dagger instead of the thief?”
At his words, Ji Qingyan halted abruptly, her phoenix eyes flashing with a surge of hatred.
“Are you making excuses for the Wei King’s Mansion?”
“The sages say, a gentleman repays kindness with kindness and grievances with justice. Though I share an irreconcilable feud with Ji Yanqing, I won’t slander others or act like a petty villain.”
Pausing briefly, Ji Yanqing continued, “But that old dog Ji Yang used the heads of Lord Ji’s entire family to advance his own career, aiding tyrants and harming the loyal. He may not be the mastermind, but his sins are grave!”
Over the years, Ji Qingyan’s hatred for the Wei King’s Mansion had seeped into her bones. If he tried to fully absolve Ji Yang now, it would only arouse suspicion.
Better to shift the blame to Prime Minister Liu first, then proceed slowly.
Let his dear father take the heat—Ji Yanqing would bear the title of “filial” infamy.
“Always quoting books like my father,” Ji Qingyan huffed noncommittally, then asked, “Besides that cur Ji Yang, who else could be my family’s killer?”
“Prime Minister Liu Sili,” Ji Yanqing said slowly, his tone heavy, his alluring peach-blossom eyes unusually serious.
“Nonsense! Uncle Liu and my family were close. He studied under the same master as my father and is kind-hearted. He’d never do something so heartless!”
At this, the girl’s expression darkened, and she snapped at Ji Yanqing.
When the Ji clan was wiped out, little Qingyan was only six. How could she know of the political rivalries between the Ji and Liu clans?
All she remembered was Uncle Liu, who brought her candied hawthorns and always wore a smile.
“Same master? So what? Siblings turn on each other, brothers feud—how rare is that? Especially when it’s for control of the court, for the seal of the Prime Minister of Yanxia!”
“Let me ask you: the Wei King had no grudge with Lord Ji. Why slaughter your family—for fun? But with Ji Wen dead, nothing stood between Liu Sili and the Prime Minister’s seat. He became the top figure in Yanxia’s court. Isn’t that motive enough? Isn’t that temptation grand enough?”
“You…” Ji Qingyan was rendered speechless, her face flushed with frustration, her pale hands clenched into fists, wanting to argue but finding no words.
Just then, a sharp metallic screech pierced the air, so keen it seemed it could pierce the skull.
Her dark hair whipped up as Ji Qingyan caught a flash of blood-red blade light in her peripheral vision.
Flinging Ji Yanqing five zhang away, the red-clad heroine flipped to dodge, her right hand drawing her sword.
In mid-air, she wove several sword flowers, her graceful figure on full display, beauty and lethality intertwining into her unique, nation-toppling allure.
Clang!
In the clash of blade and sword, their first exchange ended in a draw.
Liu Hu, wielding the nine-ringed steel saber, flashed a trace of surprise. He positioned his blade before him, reassuming his stance.
“The Imperial Censorate is on duty. I’d advise a pretty little thing like you to stay out of it. My Nine-Ringed Tyrant Saber doesn’t know how to pity…”
“This heroine specializes in meddling with the Imperial Censorate’s affairs!”
With a swish, the red-clad figure shot forward, ancient sword case on her back, her skirt fluttering like falling petals, her movements unpredictable and eerie.
The sword’s hum tore through the silent night, its edge gleaming with cold light.
[Shadow Bearer] thrust forward, its moves fluid as flowing water, flawless, aiming for Liu Hu’s eyes, neck, and heart. Her swordsmanship wasn’t the flashy tricks of spoiled nobles—it was true killing technique.
Clear stream, reed thickets, red-clad heroine, three-foot famed sword… the night was serene, the scene breathtakingly picturesque.