Chapter Two: Who Will Prevail? (Part Two)

2. The Fragrance Fades, the Jade Perishes

Xiang Bao told Hua Mei that Fu Chai had granted them permission to leave the palace to pay their respects to Si Cha and Qiu Hui; at last, they could openly bid farewell to their sisters. Under a clear, boundless sky, the palace carriage rolled out slowly, driven by Shi Lian. Inside sat all the women who had journeyed from Yue to Wu, save for Si Cha and Qiu Hui. On either side marched Wu soldiers, led by Wu Feng. It was their first time leaving the palace since arriving in Wu, and silence hung heavy in the carriage; no one spoke.

The carriage came to a gentle halt.

“We’ve arrived,” Wu Feng announced, lifting the curtain and unconsciously glancing at Xiang Bao.

Xiang Bao kept her composure, averting her gaze, and followed Hua Mei and the others down from the carriage.

“We wish to send our sisters off quietly,” Hua Mei stopped the Wu soldiers who were about to follow them into the cemetery, her expression icy.

Wu Feng signaled with a raised hand, allowing them into the cemetery without joining them.

Kneeling before the graves of Si Cha and Qiu Hui, Xiang Bao could not discern whether they were mourning for the departed, or for themselves.

The women in plain attire bowed in silent tribute, none noticing the lethal intent lurking behind them. Concealed in darkness, a man slowly raised his hand—a covert signal for assassination.

In an instant, arrows flew.

Xiang Bao had barely risen when she saw the woman beside her collapse soundlessly, an arrow lodged in her back. She fell before Si Cha’s grave, still retaining the posture of prayer. Blood blossomed across her simple dress, vivid red spreading and stabbing at Xiang Bao’s eyes.

“Run!” someone shouted, their voice indistinct.

The shriek of arrows slicing through air was piercing; Xiang Bao felt drained of all strength, frozen in place.

“Xishi, run!” Hua Mei pulled Xiang Bao’s hand urgently, dodging the deadly arrows.

When the guards stationed outside rushed in at the sound of screams, the cemetery had become a living hell—their lives, as beautiful as flowers, had withered.

“Is anyone alive?” Wu Feng shouted, then instructed the guards, “Quick, see if anyone survived.”

The stunned guards hurried forward. Though hardened by battle, none of them had witnessed carnage as devastating as this.

They had arrived alive, to honor their fallen sisters, but now...

Blood stained those once-pure faces; the beautiful eyes remained open, never closing, even in death.

They died with their eyes open.

“Help... help me...” came a faint voice.

A guard carefully moved aside a corpse pierced through the heart by an arrow, discovering a living soul beneath.

Linglong trembled, her face deathly pale, unable to form words.

“General Wu, there’s one here,” reported a guard.

Wu Feng, who was confirming the identities of the dead, hurried over and frowned at Linglong’s state: “Take her back to the carriage.” Turning, he called out loudly, “Keep searching!”

Wu Feng bent over to examine each body closely, when a soft voice sounded by his ear: “Are you disappointed you didn’t find me?”

He turned to see Xiang Bao, supported by Hua Mei.

He frowned unconsciously: “It’s good that you’re unharmed. Return to the carriage.”

Xiang Bao stood quietly, unmoving. Wu Feng did not look at her, but turned back to continue searching.

“General Wu, we’ve checked everyone,” someone reported, “No one else survived.”

Wu Feng nodded, preparing to leave, when suddenly a cry rang out: “There’s—there’s another!”

From beneath a tombstone, a woman in white rose to her feet. Her face was as pale as her garments, expression cold, resembling a wandering ghost.

“Zheng Dan!” Hua Mei whispered.

Only four remained in the carriage returning to the palace.

“Who was it? Who could be so cruel?” Hua Mei bit her lip.

“Yes, who indeed?” Zheng Dan answered slowly, a smile flickering at her lips, though it carried endless chill. Her gaze drifted out the window, toward the looming Wu palace.

Linglong, likely traumatized, sobbed softly, while Xiang Bao remained dazed. The carriage suddenly jerked to a stop, and Xiang Bao, lost in thought, struck the wall, leaving a red mark on her forehead. The curtain was abruptly lifted, and Xiang Bao looked up into a pair of deep, dark eyes.

Fu Chai?

His hair was slightly disheveled, making him appear… anxious? He raised his hand suddenly, and Xiang Bao, startled, felt his cool palm on her forehead.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, squinting slightly.

Xiang Bao shook her head, pointing at the wall: “Just bumped it.”

She was suddenly lifted, and Fu Chai carried her out of the carriage. The three women left behind exchanged varied looks.

Fu Chai sent Xiang Bao back to Zuìyuè Pavilion, and after the physician confirmed she was unharmed, he departed. Meanwhile, an uneasy atmosphere began to seep into the halls of Wu’s court.

The King of Wu ordered a thorough investigation.

When Xiang Bao visited Hua Mei at Lanyue Pavilion, she learned Linglong’s face had been injured and she had moved in with Hua Mei for care.

It was a terrifying wound, nearly destroying Linglong’s eye.

“Xishi, do you think… will my face be scarred?” Linglong, in poor spirits, repeated this question endlessly.

On the way back to Zuìyuè Pavilion, Xiang Bao rounded a corridor corner and ran straight into someone. She stopped abruptly, fists clenched—it was Wu Feng!

Wu Feng was equally surprised at seeing Xiang Bao, instinctively reaching for his sword. Xiang Bao stepped back, wary, then relaxed; with so many servants around, he could hardly dare harm her in broad daylight.

“Are you disappointed?” She calmed herself and offered a slight smile.

“What?” Wu Feng frowned.

“The trap in the woods, the cemetery assassination… all those elaborate schemes, yet you still couldn’t kill me.” Xiang Bao’s lips curled in a smile, alluring and dangerous. “Does it disappoint you?”

Wu Feng gazed at the smiling woman, momentarily stunned.

The King’s favorite Lady Xishi—she knew his and Yun Ji’s secret, and he had tried, more than once, to kill her. He had always found her beautiful, but childlike and naive; perhaps it was this innocence that made him unable to strike her down. But he had never imagined that the woman with childlike eyes could also smile so… dangerously.

Yes, dangerous.

Beauty, taken to its extreme, is dangerous.

“What nonsense are you spouting? What trap? What assassination?” Wu Feng scowled.

“Don’t pretend. Who else but you would want me dead? Oh… and your father, the Prime Minister.” Xiang Bao pursed her lips, then let out a light laugh. “Did Yun Ji ever give you a scented handkerchief?”

“The handkerchief is with you?!” Wu Feng was stunned; no wonder he couldn’t find it.

“Yes. The first time I met you, you used it to wipe my tears.” Xiang Bao smiled. “Yun Ji’s name is embroidered on the upper right corner.”

Wu Feng’s face darkened; he had been careless.

“You want me dead? If I die, that handkerchief will be delivered to the King immediately, do you believe it?”

“What do you want?” Wu Feng’s grip tightened on his sword, his expression grim.

“I only want safety.” Xiang Bao’s eyes flashed darkly. “Tell the Prime Minister that if he dares harm any of us again, you will pay with your life.”

“What do you mean?” Wu Feng was puzzled. “You suspect my father is behind the assassination? That’s impossible!”

Xiang Bao ignored him and walked away.

Later that afternoon, rain began to fall unexpectedly.

“Madam, General Wu requests an audience,” Zi Ruo announced at the door.

Wu Feng? What does he want?

“Have him wait in the hall.” Despite her doubts, Xiang Bao nodded, curious about his intentions.

After tidying her dress, Xiang Bao left her room and saw Wu Feng sitting with his head down, water dripping from his clothes. Whatever his business, it was urgent enough for him to brave the rain.

Xiang Bao sat and signaled Zi Ruo to serve tea.

“Madam…” Wu Feng hesitated.

Xiang Bao raised an eyebrow, sensing trouble.

“My father is old. If he has offended you, I ask your forgiveness.” His hand clenched into a fist at his side, Wu Feng gritted his teeth.

Xiang Bao was bewildered; what was this performance?

“The Prime Minister… what about him?” She asked, after a pause.

“Madam, the cemetery assassination had nothing to do with my father!” Wu Feng stepped forward, agitated. “He is upright, not malicious. Please explain this to the King!”

“General Wu, what lively spirits.” A mocking voice made Wu Feng turn pale instantly.

Xiang Bao looked toward the door; Fu Chai had arrived unnoticed, and who knew how much he had overheard.

“What does Madam say?” Fu Chai looked at Xiang Bao, his eyes amused.

Xiang Bao’s fist clenched.

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty…” Yun Ji’s voice called from afar. She rushed into Zuìyuè Pavilion, disheveled, and knelt at Fu Chai’s feet. “I beg Your Majesty to spare my uncle!”

“What say you, Madam?” Fu Chai turned to Xiang Bao, smiling.

“Your Majesty may decide as you see fit,” Xiang Bao replied, releasing her fist.

Fu Chai smiled.

In the end, it was but a minor warning, left unresolved. Wu Zixu was the Prime Minister of Wu, and besides, there was no direct evidence linking him as the mastermind.

Sitting alone, Xiang Bao felt increasingly unlike herself—she couldn’t summon any appetite for the feast before her.

“Madam, Lady Zheng Dan sent a maid to invite you for a drink in the garden,” Zi Ruo reported.

“At this hour?” Xiang Bao was surprised; Zheng Dan had always been cold toward her, why invite her now?

Zi Ruo stood quietly, and Xiang Bao looked at her, then rose and donned her outer robe to leave Zuìyuè Pavilion. The sky was pitch-black, not a star in sight. As she walked, Xiang Bao wondered if an assassin might leap out and send this “calamity” down the road to the underworld.

“Assassins!” Suddenly, a sharp cry shattered the quiet, followed by chaos.

Xiang Bao stood at the gate of Zheng Dan’s garden, stunned—her thoughts had become reality.

Fu Chai? On seeing the figure fighting in the garden, Xiang Bao paused; he was there too? What now?

Several masked, black-clad assassins surrounded him, while the ground was strewn with bodies. Fu Chai stood under the moon, his sword gleaming coldly, moving with lightning speed. After the scream, the area was ablaze with torches as guards gathered. If it was meant to be an assassination, it had failed utterly. With so many guards, the assassins could neither kill Fu Chai nor escape the palace.

Normally, Xiang Bao would avoid such scenes at all costs, but now… her gaze fixed on the assassin entangled with Fu Chai. His figure resembled… Wei Qin.

Fu Chai’s lips curled in a faint smile, as if indifferent to the life-and-death struggle, his sword dancing elegantly—a true king. The black-clad assassin could barely keep up, his movements slowing, stamina waning.

Under the moonlight, Fu Chai wore white, his figure lean. People said she was a calamity, but watching Fu Chai now, was he not also? The cruel smile at his brow and eyes reminded Xiang Bao of that day below Mount Fujiao, when he single-handedly slaughtered the mountain bandits with ruthless decisiveness.

Blood sprayed, thick with the scent of iron, as if it were his most fitting backdrop. Xiang Bao never knew killing could be so magnificent… so cruelly beautiful…

He stabbed at the approaching assassin, lips set coldly, lifting his narrow eyes to fix upon the last standing enemy. Xiang Bao’s heart trembled; she drew a deep breath and ran over. Though the Yue woman said Wei Qin had gone to Yue to oversee affairs, it seemed impossible for him to attempt an assassination in Wu—but…

Wei Qin’s image filled Xiang Bao’s mind. That day in front of the cottage, after Wen Zhong revealed she was his sister, the wild, red-clad youth’s lifeless eyes still twisted her heart with pain… And in Wu palace, he said he liked her…

But she was his sister, his kin!

The black-clad assassin suddenly raised his hand, something flying from his grasp, aimed straight at Fu Chai. Xiang Bao’s mind went blank; she couldn’t think, but her body moved first, darting into the crowd toward the assassin…

The darts meant for Fu Chai lodged in Xiang Bao’s body instead. Pain at her shoulder nearly made her faint; she staggered backward, falling into the assassin’s arms: “If you don’t want to die, use me as a hostage,” she whispered through her pain.

In that instant, Xiang Bao couldn’t understand herself—being a hostage would suffice, so why shield that calamity from the darts? Was she addicted to being a target? She was flesh and blood, after all… it hurt…

The assassin did as she wished, pressing his sword to her throat.

“Let her go.” Fu Chai’s gaze fell on Xiang Bao’s bleeding wound, his grip tightening on his sword.

His voice was so cold, Xiang Bao shivered despite herself. Through the pain, she glanced at Fu Chai; he was watching her, his eyes now stripped of leisure, filled with murderous intent.

“Let her go,” Fu Chai repeated, his tone chilling.

Had it been Xiang Bao, she’d have dropped the sword and fled in terror by now.

“She’s already gravely wounded. If you want her dead, keep blocking me,” the assassin said coldly.

That voice… wasn’t Wei Qin! Xiang Bao struggled to look up—those eyes belonged to Shi Lian?

She nearly coughed blood, but now was not the time to jump up and accuse Shi Lian of not being Wei Qin. How could she have mistaken him? She kept her surprise hidden, allowing herself to be restrained.

“You think you can escape the palace this way?” Fu Chai’s lips curved in a faint smile, his voice low.

Shi Lian said nothing, but pressed the icy blade closer to her throat.

Fu Chai’s smile deepened, though his gaze grew colder. Having spent so long by his side, Xiang Bao knew this expression meant he was on the verge of fury.

“Let me through.” Shi Lian held Xiang Bao tightly with his left arm, sword in his right, voice icy.

“Your Majesty…” Wu Feng arrived with troops, glancing at Fu Chai for instructions.

“Let him pass,” Fu Chai waved his hand and narrowed his eyes.

For the first time in his life, he yielded, all for a woman.

Wu Feng hesitated, then stepped back with his men, opening a path. Shi Lian, holding Xiang Bao, watched Fu Chai warily as he retreated. Just then, a sickly taste rose in Xiang Bao’s throat; dizzy, she couldn’t help but vomit blood.

Shi Lian was startled, and his shoulder took a sword blow.

“Let her go,” Fu Chai said coldly, “if you value your life.”

Feeling warm drops fall on her face, Xiang Bao lifted her head to see Fu Chai’s sword glinting coldly as it pierced Shi Lian’s right shoulder. Under the moonlight, dark red blood dripped from the sword, eerily strange.

Xiang Bao knew that if Shi Lian made a single wrong move, Fu Chai’s sword would cleave him in two.

Shi Lian remained unfazed, instead raising his hand and gently brushing Xiang Bao’s lips. The blood-stained hand extended, and he said, “Her blood is black.”

Fu Chai’s figure stiffened, his sword hesitating.

“If you kill me, she’ll die with me.”

Through the black veil, Xiang Bao saw Shi Lian’s cold smile. The darts had been poisoned!

Fu Chai frowned, saying nothing.

“Forgot to mention, in three hours, without the antidote, she’ll surely die.” As if afraid his bargaining chip was insufficient, Shi Lian added.

Fu Chai’s lips tightened; he raised his hand and withdrew the sword from Shi Lian’s shoulder, blood immediately gushing forth.

“Go, if you have the skill to leave Wu.” Fu Chai sheathed his sword. “I’ll wait one day. If the Lady isn’t returned safe before sunset tomorrow, I’ll turn Wu upside down to find you.” His voice was chilling, though he looked at Xiang Bao, the words were for Shi Lian.

Xiang Bao couldn’t help but shiver; she had never seen Fu Chai’s gaze so terrifying…

“Move!” Shi Lian pulled Xiang Bao close and retreated swiftly.

“Seal all city gates immediately. Any wounded, detain and interrogate,” Fu Chai’s voice rang coldly behind them.

Shi Lian paused, but didn’t stop, quickly departing.

Fu Chai was issuing a warning. With the gates locked, if Xiang Bao wasn’t returned by sunset, he would hunt Shi Lian down.

Shi Lian lifted Xiang Bao and leaped over the palace wall, swiftly evading the pursuing guards.

In the shadows of the garden, a woman in plain dress stood watching the entire ordeal with a mocking expression, as if it were a mere performance.

That woman was Zheng Dan.