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Zhao Yun's countenance remained impassive, his gaze ascending to meet Feng Liu's steadfast stance. The fleeting tremor in Feng Liu's eyes betrayed a momentary astonishment, a glance that resonated with an uncanny familiarity. Zhao Yun's mind raced to place it, but the memory eluded him, shrouded in obscurity. The enigmatic gaze stirred an inexplicable sense of déjà vu, leaving Zhao Yun perplexed. Why did Feng Liu now constitute an obstacle, whereas previously he had not?

"With due respect, Your Highness," Zhao Yun declared with unwavering firmness, "you overstep the boundaries of propriety." Feng Liu's lips compressed into a thin line, his grasp on the hilt of his sword relaxing momentarily. In tandem, the guards accompanying him unsheathed their blades, poised in anticipation of their master's command to engage. Yet Feng Liu remained stationary, lost in contemplation, weighing his next move.

As I felt Zhao Yun's protective hands envelop me, gently guiding me to safety, beyond Feng Liu's potential grasp, my heart quickened. This unprecedented display of allegiance, after nearly a year under Shifu's tutelage, stirred profound gratitude within me. Memories of A'Ying during the Bloom Sessions resurfaced, reminding me of Zhao Yun's unwavering dedication. For an ephemeral instant, my heart swelled with joy, transfixed by the depth of emotion in his eyes.

"Feng Liu's gaze narrowed. "This affair does not concern you, Mr. Lu," he cautioned, his voice low and measured. "Prudence dictates your withdrawal."

As Feng Liu's vehement outburst reverberated through the air, the surrounding crowd gradually became aware of the unfolding tumult. Their attention gravitated toward us, their gazes riveted on our confrontation. Murmurs spread like wildfire, whispers cascading from one onlooker to another, fueling the growing unease.

Zhao Yun's declaration left me stunned. "It is my business!" he asserted, his voice unwavering. "She is my disciple, a member of Luoxia Sect, and the princess of Liang." My eyes widened in astonishment, my mind reeling from the implications. Clasping my chest, I inhaled deeply, turning to Shifu once more. Disciple? Had he truly acknowledged me as his protégée without condition or caveat? The word resonated within me, its significance threatening to overwhelm.

Feng Liu recoiled, his composure shaken by the unmistakable sound of Zhao Yun's sword sliding out of its scabbard. As their eyes locked, Feng Liu's ire simmered, his breathing measured. "Are you openly defying the pact, contravening the accord, solely on her account?" he demanded, his tone laced with indignation. "Does Jiang hu now presume to dictate the internal affairs of Ming?" The weight of his words hung heavy, the unspoken threat of repercussions palpable.

My lips compressed, my hands falling to my sides as I stood beside Zhao Yun. The gravity of Feng Liu's words struck home. Every decision seemed to spawn dire consequences, impossible to shake off. Though I recoiled at the prospect of marrying Feng Liu, I couldn't bear the thought of Shifu and the Luoxia Sect members being drawn into a conflict with Ming, especially during this tumultuous era. Wei would exploit the chaos, unleashing devastation to unify the world under its dominance.

As tensions escalated, the onlookers parted, forming a clearing around us. Their faces reflected a mix of fascination and trepidation, their whispers now hushed, anticipatory. The air vibrated with unspoken challenges, the outcome hanging precariously in the balance.

Zhao Yun's stance remained unwavering, his gaze locked on Feng Liu. "The pact," he began, his voice measured, "was forged to maintain equilibrium, not to constrain justice." His pause was deliberate, the silence underscoring his resolve. "Luoxia Sect will not stand idly by while injustice prevails." The unspoken message was clear: the sect would not be swayed by political expediency.

Feng Liu's countenance darkened, his jaw clenched. "You would jeopardize the fragile peace for one individual?" The undertone of warning was unmistakable, the veiled threat to the sect and its members implicit.

Feng Liu's sigh was laden with frustration, his lips compressing into a thin line. "We've received intel regarding Bai Ying's presence in this locale," he stated, his tone measured. "It's either you or her. Would you truly wish to entangle her in this quagmire as well?" The murmurs swirling through the crowd intensified, fueled by curiosity and speculation.

A woman's gasp pierced the air, her head nodding fervently. "Isn't that the First Princess of Liang?" Another onlooker's gaze darted toward her companions, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I thought she wasn't the Emperor's biological daughter?" Feng Liu spun around, his eyes flashing with urgency as he directed his men to quell the spreading whispers.

The guards swiftly responded, forming a cordon around the crowd with their swords at the ready. The onlookers, taken aback by the sudden display of aggression, recoiled, their faces pale and frightened. Gasps filled the air as they struggled to create distance, their footsteps echoing through the sudden silence.

Zhao Yun's gaze descended, his eyes tracing the turmoil etched on my face. His sigh was heavy, weighted with concern. My eyes fluttered wildly, my hands trembling for an instant. The undercurrents of doubt and fear began to surface, threatening to overwhelm me.

What were they insinuating? That I wasn't the Emperor's daughter? Not Dad's daughter? The very thought sent my mind reeling. Then, who was my true parent? The uncertainty clawed at my heart, leaving me breathless and bewildered.

Feng Liu's countenance darkened, his jaw clenched. "Enough!" he barked, his authority asserting itself. "This is none of their concern!" The guards moved to disperse the crowd, their firm gestures underscoring the command.

As the onlookers retreated, their whispers persisted, a relentless undertone. Zhao Yun's gaze never wavered from mine, his expression a bastion of reassurance. Yet, the seeds of doubt had been sown, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my very identity hung in the balance.

The silence between us was oppressive, heavy with unspoken questions. Feng Liu's eyes narrowed, his gaze darting between Zhao Yun and me. "This changes nothing," he stated, his tone resolute. "The pact remains in effect." The tension simmered, awaiting its next catalyst.

The air around my neck constricted, my breathing growing labored as suffocation threatened to overwhelm me. With a resolute shake of my head, I strode toward the crowd, my movements swift and purposeful. Before Zhao Yun and Feng Liu could intervene, I reached the commoner who had uttered those fateful words and grasped her hand firmly.

She glared at me, shock etched on her features, as she attempted to recoil. "Release me!" she demanded, her voice trembling. "What's amiss with you? Let go!" Her efforts to break free were futile; I tightened my grip, my fingers intertwining with hers like a vice.

With each step she took, I countered with two, my determination unwavering. "Repeat what you said," I pressed, my voice low and urgent. The woman's gaze darted toward her companions, her eyes pleading for assistance. Fear began to seep into her expression, her trembling intensifying.

Frustration boiling over, I grasped her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Speak!" I exhorted, my voice rising. "What did you mean?" The woman's eyes widened, her pupils dilating in alarm. She swallowed hard, her composure faltering.

"It's...it's common knowledge," she stammered, her words barely audible. "Rumors spread throughout the states: Princess Bai is Liang's rightful heiress. Some claim the emperor left behind evidence, a handwritten blood note, revealing the truth." Her voice cracked, her words hanging in the air like a challenge.

Gasps erupted from the crowd, whispers spreading like wildfire. Feng Liu's face darkened, his jaw clenched. Zhao Yun's eyes narrowed, his gaze locked onto the woman.

I felt the ground beneath me shifting, my identity crumbling. Handwritten blood note? What secrets had my father left behind? And what did it mean for my future?

The woman's words ignited a firestorm, fueling the speculation and doubt. I stood at the epicenter, my world teetering on the brink of collapse.

A guard hastened to Feng Liu's side, whispering urgently, but his words carried clearly to my ears. "The other princess remains at large. We've attempted to suppress the news, but it's likely the emperor will soon be informed." Feng Liu's expression turned grim, his hand rising as if to seize the informant's collar, only to halt as a contingent of guards rushed down from the south wing.

"Your Highness, Suzhou has fallen!" one announced, breathless. "Our two head generals have been defeated!" Zhao Yun's composure faltered, his fists clenching in dismay. Xu Jing's rapid advances were unsettling.

The townspeople's glares intensified, their suspicion and hostility palpable. I swallowed hard, my mind reeling. Was I truly not the princess? Had I lived a lie, indulging in luxury and pampering within the palace walls? No, this couldn't be. Someone must be spreading malicious rumors, exploiting this for their own purposes.

Determination hardened within me. I had to return to Liang, uncover the truth, and quell these baseless allegations at all costs. Clenching my fists, I drew a deep breath and broke away from the townspeople's accusatory stares.

Zhao Yun's gaze found mine, his eyes burning with resolve. Feng Liu's face twisted in turmoil, his thoughts racing. The situation was spiraling out of control.

"Rong'Er," Feng Liu called out, his voice resolute and unwavering. Extending his hand toward me, the guards remained vigilant, poised to intercept any subtle movement. Several of them dispersed the crowd with their swords, the townspeople retreating reluctantly, their muttered curses and whispers lingering in the air.

I lifted my gaze as Zhao Yun turned to observe the guards, his eyes scrutinizing their every move. The informant, still kneeling with bowed head, awaited further instruction. Another guard burst in, panting heavily. "Your Highness, the emperor has decreed a lockdown. We must return before nightfall."

Zhao Yun drew a deep breath, his eyes locked on Feng Liu. "With chaos gripping your nation, is this personal matter truly more pressing than stabilizing the situation?"

Feng Liu's response was immediate and emphatic. "It is!"

His composure shattered, Feng Liu hastened toward me, his eyes blazing with determination. I gasped as he seized my hand, attempting to pull me away. Zhao Yun's eyes narrowed, his muscles tensing.

Feng Liu's grip tightened, his arms encircling me. I struggled to break free, my squeal of protest muffled against his chest.

Zhao Yun stood frozen, taken aback by Feng Liu's sudden fixation on me. A mix of emotions swirled within him - dismay, disappointment, and a hint of jealousy, a sentiment he'd never before experienced. His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Feng Liu's actions.

"Regardless of the rumors' veracity," Zhao Yun began, his voice measured, "your actions will ignite chaos between the states, handing Wei the perfect opportunity to exploit this marriage. And now, you seek to expedite it to tomorrow?" His tone conveyed a deep concern for the repercussions.

Feng Liu's bloodshot eyes rose slowly, his gaze locking onto Zhao Yun. With a calculated movement, he drew his sword, the blade glinting in the light as he pressed it against my throat. Zhao Yun's eyes flinched, his surprise evident.

A mirthless laugh escaped Feng Liu's lips, sending shivers down my spine. I trembled, my voice caught in my throat, unable to utter a word. Fear overwhelmed me, my eyes wide with terror, my hands falling limp beside me.

"All you sects care about is peace and cultivation," Feng Liu sneered. "But I want her, no matter the cost."

Zhao Yun took a deliberate step forward, analyzing Feng Liu's movements with caution. Though a sharp pang resonated in his chest, he recognized the emotion - a deep-seated protectiveness toward me. His resolve hardened.

"I won't let you harm her, Feng Liu," Zhao Yun declared, his voice firm and resolute.

Zhao Yun's chest constricted, the familiar ache stirring memories of Jing Yi's tragic fate. He recognized the emotion: a deep longing, a desire he dare not express, perhaps never could. Yet, protecting me became his paramount priority.

Feng Liu's sword edge drew closer to my neck as Zhao Yun advanced. My eyes widened in terror, brimming with tears. "One more step, and I unpredict what I'll do," Feng Liu warned.

Zhao Yun froze, his gaze locked on Feng Liu. "Don't dare harm her," he growled.

Feng Liu's laughter sent shivers down my spine. His unyielding stare made my skin crawl. I shut my eyes tightly.

"Would you plunge Ming into chaos by attacking a Liang princess?" Zhao Yun pressed.

Feng Liu's smile twisted. "You prioritize the people's well-being. You'll make a deal to resolve this, won't you?" His tone dripped with sarcasm.

Zhao Yun's jaw clenched. "You're willing to jeopardize entire nations for personal gain."

Feng Liu's nod was accompanied by a cold smile. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Zhao Yun's eyebrows arched, skepticism etched on his face. I opened my eyes abruptly, turning to him with a mix of desperation and fear.

Feng Liu's proposal hung in the air: "I've long heard of your prowess. If you can withstand my Yellow Guards' attacks without retaliating, I'll persuade my father to spare Bai Ying."

My eyes widened in horror as I turned to Feng Liu. "You're insane!" I exclaimed.

Feng Liu's lips curled into a fervent smile, his gaze darting toward his guards. Zhao Yun's eyes flicked toward them, his grip on his sword tightening.

The guards encircled Zhao Yun, their movements swift and calculated. Feng Liu's question seemed hollow, a mere formality before unleashing his men.

Without hesitation, four guards struck from behind, while ten more assaulted him simultaneously from the sides. Zhao Yun deflected each blow with precision, his movements tireless.

I struggled to break free from Feng Liu's grasp, my screams echoing through the air. "Stop! Please, stop!"

Zhao Yun's focus remained fixed on the guards, his expression resolute.

Minutes ticked by, the guards' relentless assault showing no signs of fatigue. Zhao Yun stood firm, his sword flashing in the dim light as he blocked each strike with precision. Sweat dripped from his brow, his breathing steady despite the exertion.

The poison's insidious effects began to manifest, his vision blurring at the edges. His muscles protested, trembling with each blow. Still, he held his ground.

A guard lunged, sword aimed at Zhao Yun's heart. He parried, steel ringing against steel. Another guard struck from the side, only to be deflected by Zhao Yun's swift riposte.

The barrage continued, guards exchanging blows in a well-rehearsed dance. Zhao Yun's defenses began to falter, the poison's influence spreading. His blocks grew slower, his footwork less certain.

A sword sliced toward his shoulder; Zhao Yun raised his blade barely in time. The impact jarred his arm, numbing his fingers. He gritted his teeth, fighting to maintain his grip.

The guards sensed weakness, pressing their advantage. Strikes rained down, each one aimed at exploiting Zhao Yun's dwindling strength.

My screams echoed through the courtyard, Feng Liu's grasp tightening as I struggled to break free. "Stop! Please, stop!"

Zhao Yun's gaze locked onto mine, his eyes burning with determination. He would protect me, no matter the cost.

With newfound resolve, Zhao Yun redoubled his efforts, blocking each attack with renewed precision. The guards' momentum faltered, their rhythm disrupted.

For an instant, the courtyard fell silent, the only sound Zhao Yun's labored breathing.

I knew Zhao Yun's exceptional combat skills, honed from years of dedication, made him nearly invulnerable to a few guards. However, the approaching autumn fall signaled a vulnerable period for him. Juniors whispered about his annual solitude, a time of intense introspection and self-discipline.

Feng Liu exploited this knowledge, aiming to exploit Zhao Yun's weakened state. As the guards attacked, Zhao Yun blocked each strike with precision, but the toll was evident. A sharp pain seared his chest, and he inhaled deeply, suppressing the agony.

The guards fell back, only to rise again for another assault. I couldn't bear the thought of Zhao Yun suffering further.

Then, as one, the guards launched a final, brutal assault.

"Stop it! I'll go with you!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face.

Feng Liu released me, his hands dropping to his sides. The guards retreated at his command.

"Your Highness..."

Feng Liu silenced the guard with a raised hand, ordering them to create distance.

I rushed to Zhao Yun, embracing him fervently. His hands remained still behind him, a silent warning.

"Don't," he whispered.

I tightened my hold, shaking my head. "I won't let anything harm you. Never."

A hand grasped me, wrenching me away from Zhao Yun. I shrieked, extending my hand toward Shifu in anguished tears. Feng Liu forcibly adorned me with the phoenix hairpin and draped the crimson wedding hanfu over my shoulders.

"Tonight, Mr. Lu," Feng Liu declared, his smile twisted with malevolence, "you shall bear witness to our union. Either she marries me tonight, or Bai Ying will face the consequences tomorrow."

Zhao Yun sprang to his feet with alacrity, interposing himself between Feng Liu and me. His sword gleamed with unwavering resolve.

"Leave A'Ying out of this," I demanded. "I will take her place."

Feng Liu wrested the sword from Zhao Yun's neck, grasping his arm. As their eyes met, Feng Liu detected a flicker of pain in Zhao Yun's gaze when their wrists touched. His eyes widened in astonishment.

"That tattoo... the mark... You're not Zhao Yun, but..." Feng Liu's voice trailed off.

Feng Liu's countenance turned ashen. He stuttered, "Su..." before his voice faltered.

In that instant, a stealthy assassin emerged from the shadows, sword flashing in the moonlight. The blade pierced Feng Liu's chest, and blood erupted from his lips.

I screamed, my legs buckling beneath me, as the assassin vanished into the night, leaving an eerie silence in their wake.

Feng Liu's grip on him tightened, his eyes aglow with melancholy.

The assassin's hasty retreat was marked by a dropped tablet, lost in the chaos. Feng Liu, reeling from the betrayal, cradled Zhao Yun's limp form in his arms, his knees sinking into the ground.

"Y-Yu Ch-hen," Feng Liu stammered, blood streaming from his mouth as sorrow and remorse clouded his eyes. A solitary tear traced its way down his cheek.

The bitter taste of betrayal suffused him, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. A faint chuckle escaped his lips, punctuated by crimson-flecked coughs. Tears streamed down his face.

No words of forgiveness could he ask, only a desperate grasp of Zhao Yun's hand, his fading strength spent on urgent whispers: "Duke W-Wei... Ru-un."

Guards stormed the temple, encircling the area. I seized the sword and tablet, my gaze darting toward the surrounding rooftops.

"Run!" I shouted.

"Arrest them!" Feng Liu's voice, now cold and detached, echoed through the temple.

With unsteady steps, he wandered the deserted streets, a wine bottle dangling from his hand. Each sip brought a fleeting giggle, his path meandering aimlessly. Walls seemed to materialize before him, but he persisted, lost in memories.

Joyful recollections of the past swirled, only to be shattered by Mo Qin's haunting last words. "Why?!" he shrieked, shattering the bottle against the wall.

Continuing onward, the damp streets eventually led him to a forgotten restaurant. Cobwebs shrouded the walls and notice board. He halted, dusting off the sign with his hanfu sleeve.

"Noodle Shop" - the faded characters stirred a bittersweet smile. Inside, tables and chairs stood as if awaiting patrons. The air still held the sweet scent of plum wine, utensils set but shrouded in grime.

Years had passed since he last set foot here, alongside his trio of companions. Memories lingered, now tinged with melancholy.

If he hadn't stumbled upon this place, the memories would have remained buried. As he gazed around, the past came alive. The clinking of wine cups, the vibrant red lanterns reflected in the sky, and their joyful cheers resurfaced.

"Lian'Er, don't defect this time," Yu Chen teased.

You Lian's pale face contrasted with the radiant lanterns. Yu Chen seized her cup and downed the wine, his smile infectious.

Jing Yi and Zhao Yun exchanged disappointed glances, shaking their heads. "It's her birthday. How long will you coddle your sister?"

Yu Chen chuckled, playfully ruffling Jing Yi's hair. "You're a worse drinker than her."

Their laughter ceased as a clearing throat commanded attention. Eyes widened in guilt.

"Shifu?"

Elder Jing materialized, grasping Yu Chen's ears. "Mo Yan, what's the meaning of this?"

Mo Yan stuttered, sensing footsteps behind him. "Where's...Shifu?"

He collapsed onto a seat, his drunken state evident. A'Ying rushed to support him.

"With everything unfolding, you dare get drunk?" she chided.

Mo Yan's gaze dropped, disappointment flickering in his eyes. "He ordered me to leave the palace before nightfall, without explanation. Do you know what's happening? I've heard rumors about Rong'Er."

His sigh concealed a deeper emotion – jealousy. A feeling foreign to him, born from a life of carefree indulgence.

He lifted his gaze, searching for a glimmer of hope. Their fate seemed sealed, but he yearned to live without regrets, unlike Jing Yi and his mother.

Intensity burned in his eyes as he reached out, hesitating to touch A'Ying's face. "I like you, A'Ying," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

A'Ying recoiled, her eyes wide with shock. Mo Yan's hand fell, his chuckle laced with bitter amusement.

Her reaction confirmed his suspicions – she loved only Yu Chen.

In the strained silence, Mo Yan spoke, his voice tinged with resignation, "Zhao Yun-"

"I don't care who he truly is," A'Ying declared, conviction etched on her face. "To me, he's Shifu – that's all that matters."

Suddenly, arrows rained down upon the city, piercing the night sky. Mo Yan instinctively pulled A'Ying against the wall, shielding her with his body.

"Over here! Hurry!" Zhen Lan's urgent voice cut through the chaos.

A'Ying's eyes widened as Zhen Lan expertly deflected the incoming arrows.

"Feng Liu's been assassinated!" Zhen Lan shouted, his breath labored. "We must leave – now!"

Mo Yan's grip on A'Ying tightened, his gaze locking onto Zhen Lan. "What's happening?"

Zhen Lan's expression turned grim. "The city's collapsing. We need to escape, before it's too late."

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