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As his unblinking, trembling eyes met mine, a shiver ran down my spine, an unsettling mix of unease and curiosity blossoming within me.

Discerning who he was proved difficult, as only the lower half of his body peeked from behind the thick trunk of an ancient oak. Yet, even with the fading sunlight, I couldn't help but notice he bore a stark contrast to the townspeople I'd grown accustomed to seeing.

His attire, despite the dimming light, exuded an air of refinement and elegance, a stark contrast to the simple garb worn by most. It wasn't just my eyesight that allowed me to discern these details; the wind, picking up speed with the approaching night, whipped past, pulling his clothing taut, momentarily revealing its finer textures.

Before I could formulate a plan to approach him, he made a swift turn, disappearing into the dense forest, his form swallowed by the growing shadows. "He's gone?" I muttered in disbelief, my eyes darting around in a futile attempt to catch another glimpse.

Unable to shake the inexplicable curiosity that had taken root within me, I descended from the bustling main street, the remnants of a half-eaten meat skewer tumbling from my hand. The last bite remained suspended halfway to my mouth, as if mirroring the confusion swirling within me. Driven by an unseen force, I found myself breaking into a run, my legs pumping, propelled by a desire to find the stranger once more.

The forest floor, now blanketed in the cool shade of countless trees, swallowed me whole as I pushed deeper, leaving the familiar bustle of the town square far behind. A primal instinct urged me to turn back, to seek the comfort of known surroundings.

The forest floor crunched softly beneath my feet as I moved, my earlier sprint now replaced by a cautious walk. The wind whispered through the leaves, creating a gentle symphony as it rustled the branches overhead. Birds, startled by my approach, fluttered their wings and soared high above the canopy. I stamped my shoes against the grassy ground, my eyes scanning the surroundings with a growing sense of urgency.

Every snap of a twig, every rustle of leaves, sent shivers down my spine. My ears perked up at the faintest sound, my imagination painting a picture of unseen figures lurking in the shadows. I spun around, heart pounding in my chest, expecting to see the mysterious stranger reappear, but only the silent trees greeted me.

Doubt gnawed at my resolve. Had I been foolish to venture so deep into the woods, chasing after a fleeting glimpse of the stranger? Panic began to set in, the realization dawning that I might be lost. The once similar trees now seemed identical, their branches like accusing fingers pointing in every direction. I spun in a slow circle, desperation clouding my vision, searching for any landmark that might offer a clue to my starting point.

Three paths lay before me, each one leading deeper into the tangled wilderness. Shamefacedly, I acknowledged that I had been so fixated on finding the stranger that I had neglected to pay attention to my surroundings, failing to mark my path or even commit the direction to memory. The stranger was gone, no sound of movement or snapped twigs betraying their presence. The only sound that reached my ears now was the ragged rhythm of my own breathing.

Blinking rapidly, I continued to scan the area, a cold dread settling in my stomach. The air was thick with the scent of decaying leaves, and a gentle breeze sent a flurry of withered golden brown leaves cascading down, painting the ground in a slow, silent dance.

The trees around me swayed, sending shivers down my spine as if an unseen presence brushed against them. I instinctively lifted my head, and my breath hitched in my throat.

A pair of eyes, glinting in the fading light, stared down at me from the branches above. The figure, cloaked in black with only the outline of their eyes visible, observed my movements with an unnerving stillness. Fear, cold and primal, washed over me as I stumbled back, my carefully constructed bravado crumbling in the face of the unknown.

Panic choked the scream that formed in my throat as the figure on the branch shifted, a glint of metal catching the fading light. Before I could even consider scrambling for safety, a blur of motion erupted. The figure's hand dipped beneath the cloak, then flickered like a striking viper. Daggers, wickedly sharp and polished, shot from their fingertips, aimed straight at me.

Terror flooded my veins, freezing my limbs in place. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision, as the chilling certainty of my impending death washed over me. I squeezed my eyelids shut, bracing for the agonizing impact, a choked scream erupting from my throat. But the expected pain never came. Instead, a cacophony of metallic thuds echoed through the silent forest, sending shivers down my spine.

With trembling fingers, I dared to peek through narrowed lids. The sight that greeted me was both terrifying and strangely reassuring. The daggers, meant to be my demise, were now embedded deep into the trunks of the trees opposite me, their polished surfaces glinting eerily in the fading light.

My gaze drifted upwards, settling on the figure perched precariously on the branch. Relief flooded my system as I recognized the familiar silhouette and flowing robes. It was the man from earlier, the one who had vanished into the woods.

He sat there, seemingly unaffected by the near-fatal encounter, casually twirling his sword between his fingers with a dexterity that bordered on the unbelievable. The daggers had flown from his hand with such speed and precision that they had barely grazed the air before finding their mark, a chilling display of skill.

But the reprieve was short-lived. The man on the branch stumbled back, his eyes widening in surprise.

Terror constricted my throat, choking back the scream that threatened to erupt. As the figure on the branch shifted, a glint of metal catching the dying light, a primal fear gripped me. Before I could even contemplate escape, the figure's hand darted beneath their cloak, a blur of motion. Then, like a venomous serpent striking, daggers flashed into existence, aimed straight at my heart.

Time seemed to slow down, each beat of my heart a thunderous drum against my ribs. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision as the icy certainty of death enveloped me. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the agonizing impact, a strangled cry escaping my lips.

But the searing pain I expected never arrived. Instead, a cacophony of metallic thuds shattered the silence, sending shivers down my spine. Trembling fingers lifted my eyelids a sliver, and the sight that greeted me was both terrifying and inexplicably reassuring.

The daggers, instruments of my demise moments ago, were now firmly embedded in the trunks of the surrounding trees, their polished surfaces reflecting the fading light with an eerie gleam. My gaze followed their trajectory upwards, settling on the figure precariously perched on the branch. Relief washed over me as I recognized the familiar silhouette and flowing robes, the man from earlier, the one who had vanished into the woods.

He sat there, seemingly unfazed by the near-fatal encounter, casually twirling his sword between his fingers with an impossible dexterity. The daggers had flown from his hand with such speed and precision that they had barely disturbed the air before finding their mark, their trajectory a chilling display of skill.

But the brief respite was shattered in an instant. The man on the branch stumbled back, his eyes widening in surprise. From beneath his cloak, he drew another set of daggers, these held with a white-knuckled grip, the carefree facade replaced by a stark urgency. This time, there would be no playful showmanship. With a guttural yell, he launched a barrage of daggers, a deadly storm of metal aimed directly at me.

My eyes widened in horror as I watched him deflect the onslaught. He backpedaled, momentarily airborne as he leaped over the hail of flying blades. Landing with a graceful ease, his sword danced beneath his fingers in a mesmerizing circle. Each dagger, propelled by an unseen force, found its mark - not in my flesh, but embedded deep within the surrounding trees.

The attacker, his eyes bulging in disbelief, stumbled back against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his body succumbing to the weight of the impossible encounter. His consciousness slipped away, his eyes flickering shut as he slumped to the forest floor.

I cautiously lifted my head, staring at the unconscious form. Recognition dawned on me - it was the very man I had been searching for. But how, I wondered, had he known I was following him? My gaze drifted downwards, landing on the vibrant blue robe that contrasted sharply with his sleek black shoes, the only part of his attire visible from my vantage point.

The urge to scrutinize his face for the first time was abruptly quelled as the intricate designs etched on his sword caught the last rays of the setting sun, sending a blinding reflection towards my eyes. He reacted instantly, lowering the weapon with a swiftness that spoke of honed reflexes.

I hesitantly cracked open my eyelids, blinking away the lingering afterimages as the harsh glare subsided. My vision slowly cleared, allowing me to fully take him in. A breath hitched in my throat as I found myself staring at a vision of stark beauty.

His jawline, sharp and chiseled, was framed by a cascade of long, black hair that danced in the evening breeze. A silver hair clip, reminiscent of the royals, adorned his raven locks, adding a touch of elegance to his otherwise rugged appearance. He stood tall and imposing, his long black robe reaching the forest floor and somehow creating an aura of mystery around him.

However, much to my frustration, his face remained out of sight, turned away from me. My attention, therefore, shifted to the magnificent sword still held in his grasp. Its intricate dragon designs, meticulously crafted and catching the fading light, were a testament to the skill of the weapon's maker. Even the sheath, a gleaming mix of gold and hard metals, spoke of both luxury and strength.

He pivoted slowly, his movements as graceful as a predator stalking its prey. His gaze, cold and emotionless, settled on the unconscious figure slumped against the tree. The man, the would-be assassin, lay sprawled on the ground, blood blossoming from a wound on his lower abdomen, a crimson stain marring the once-pristine forest floor.

But despite the man's critical state, a flicker of something akin to amusement danced in the depths of his dangerous eyes. A slight smirk played on the corner of his lips as he saw the faint rise and fall of the assassin's chest. Killing him now, he seemed to decide, wouldn't serve a purpose. Extracting information, learning the name of his master - that was the true prize.

Unable to tear my gaze from his exquisite blade, my attention lingered on the intricate dragon tattoo etched below his wrist, a symbol of both power and mystery. It hinted at the hidden strength coiled beneath his elegant exterior.

My voice died in my throat, leaving me speechless as I stood before him, captivated by his enigmatic aura. He remained motionless, his sword disappearing into its sheath with a soft swish. An irresistible urge propelled me forward, each step carrying me closer to him, closer to unraveling the enigma that was this stranger. But as I reached a comfortable distance, my legs seemed to seize up, refusing to carry me any further.

His unexpected proximity sent a jolt through me. His face, unbelievably handsome, filled my vision. His eyes, the color of a summer sky, held a depth of scrutiny, as if trying to unravel my motives. His nose was the perfect complement to his sharp jawline, and his lips, the color of freshly bloomed roses, hinted at a hidden sensuality. Though his muscular physique was concealed beneath the flowing black robe, the way he held himself exuded an undeniable air of confidence. His previously unruly black hair was now elegantly tied back, revealing a more defined and striking version of his face.

However, a sense of unease gnawed at me. One half of his face was obscured by a meticulously crafted mask, a piece of blue artistry that added an air of intrigue to his already enigmatic persona. Despite the mask, his undeniable handsomeness shone through, his features holding a certain sharpness that hinted at a past filled with secrets.

As he lifted his head, his gaze met mine, and for a fleeting moment, our eyes locked. His blue eyes seemed to hold a fiery intensity, burning deep into mine with an unwavering scrutiny. It felt like an attempt to see straight through me, to uncover the reasons for my presence and my unexpected curiosity.

The moment shattered as quickly as it formed. He averted his gaze, his lips curling into a frown that seemed devoid of any emotion.

"Thanks," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. I took an involuntary step forward, a naive attempt to express my gratitude for saving my life. But he reacted swiftly, stepping back and turning away, a hand hovering protectively over his sword.

"I don't need your gratitude," he replied, his voice a low growl that reverberated through the silent forest. His words were harsh, a stark contrast to his previously captivating features, and they sent an unexpected chill down my spine.

My eyes waver at his rude answer. Who doesn't like being appreciated? I followed up to this creepy forest to find him, and I get this cold return? My eyebrows furrow in shock wondering why he cut me off so rudely.

His brusque response caught me off guard. My eyes widened, momentarily speechless. Who wouldn't appreciate a simple thank you? I had followed him through this creepy forest, venturing into the unknown, only to be met with such coldness. My brows furrowed in confusion, silently questioning his rudeness.

He saw my surprise but didn't seem to care. Before I could even formulate a response, he took a few decisive steps forward, plunging deeper into the shadowy woods. With my mouth agape, I watched him disappear into the undergrowth, the rustling leaves the only response to my unspoken questions.

Just as I opened my mouth to call out to him again, the sound of approaching footsteps cut through the stillness. Calls of my name echoed from the forest entrance, growing louder with each passing second.

"Princess You Rong!"

I turned my head towards the familiar voice, momentarily tearing my gaze away from the direction the mysterious stranger had vanished. A group of guards emerged from the treeline, their leader none other than Bai Ying, her expression etched with concern.

My shoulders slumped in defeat. They had found me.

"You must return to the palace now!" Bai Ying's voice held a mix of relief and exasperation.

A sigh escaped my lips as I lowered my head. They had found me, yes, but not before I had stumbled into a situation I could barely comprehend.

My initial disappointment over the man's departure was quickly replaced by a surge of panic as I realized he was no longer here. He had simply vanished, leaving me with more questions than answers.

With a trembling finger, I pointed towards the unconscious assassin sprawled on the ground. "He..." I stammered, desperately searching for the words to explain the events that unfolded mere moments ago.

"Your Highness," one of the guards interrupted, his hand already reaching for the injured man. "You must return now."

I rolled my eyes, frustration bubbling within me. I wanted to protest, to demand answers, but something held me back. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of the ordeal, or perhaps it was the lingering fear of the encounter.

With a defeated sigh, I turned to leave, preparing to face the inevitable scolding and restrictions that awaited me back at the palace. But just as I stepped forward, Bai Ying's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"I had to tell them. The third concubine has been found dead. Duke Wei requests your presence!"

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Who is this guy?

Why is he holding such a sword?

Why did he save her?

Who wants to kill You Rong ?

How did the third concubine die?

Was she murdered by the same person who called for the assassin on the princess?

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