🥀

An unwavering surprise had lurked over our faces as Qing Yu, the prison commander, explained her observations from the scroll in her hands. Finishing the reading, she dropped her hand and turned to him with a questioning look.

"Sects? How is that possible? Are you sure?" she pressed, her voice laced with disbelief.

He sighed and nodded solemnly after closing his eyes for a moment.

Zhen Lan, rising from her seat, moved to stand beside General Su. He, in turn, glared around the room in silence, his mind working furiously to piece together the puzzle.

"Why would they kill their Liang fellows?" he finally growled, addressing Qing Yu. "Qing Yu, delve deeper into this matter. Inform me immediately if you uncover any new information. And, most importantly, keep this discovery under wraps."

Qing Yu bowed curtly and turned towards the body hanging limply at the end of the cell. An average-looking man, his face obscured by a curtain of blood-streaked hair, remained suspended by two chains that bound his wrists to the cell walls, one on either side.

Crimson stains marred his once-white robe, tracing a path all the way down to his bare feet. They stood motionless, mirroring the stillness that had descended upon the room as everyone contemplated the horrifying scene before them.

Qing Yu stepped forward cautiously and lifted the man's head, exposing a gruesome sight. A deep, merciless gash marred his neck, the telltale sign of a swift and fatal strike. A gasp escaped Zhen Lan's lips as she recoiled, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Zhen Lan rushed to my side, turning me around gently. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat reverberating in my ears and blurring my vision. The world around me seemed to waver and shimmer, threatening to dissolve into a hazy canvas.

"Rong'er! Here," Zhen Lan exclaimed, his voice a lifeline in the storm of confusion swirling within me. He pressed a cup of water and a small box of pills into my trembling hands.

With shaking fingers, I snatched a pill from the box and dropped it into my mouth before gulping down the cool water in one desperate swallow. A'Ying offered a comforting pat on my back before turning back to the grim figure hanging within the cell.

"Based on the pattern of the wound," she began, her voice firm despite the tremor in my own body, "the cut on his neck is clean, precise, and lethal. Most likely inflicted by a weapon with a distinct dragon design, known for its swift and silent kills. Unfortunately, such blades are the exclusive possession of certain sects."

Zhen Lan's gaze snapped towards Qing Yu, his face etched with a mixture of urgency and suspicion. "With the Yihua Palace in ruins," he stated, his voice tight, "who else possesses such exceptional craftsmanship?"

He turned back to Qing Yu, his eyes narrowed. "And what of his identity? Who was this man?"

Qing Yu let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he met the collective gaze of the room. "As I mentioned earlier," he began, his voice low and heavy, "he served in the Jingbei Army ten years ago. Gu Huang...one of their most elite soldiers."

A gasp escaped Zhen Lan's lips. "Gu Huang?!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with disbelief. "Wasn't he the one accused of betraying the army to the Rouran State?"

Qing Yu offered a curt nod, his eyes meeting General Su's. The General, his face now etched with a mixture of sorrow and dawning realization, lowered his gaze, the weight of the revelation settling heavily upon him.

"Why would he do this?" Zhen Lan echoed my own question, his voice laced with bewilderment. He and General Su exchanged a long, tense look that did little to alleviate the growing anxiety gnawing at A'Ying and me.

Unable to bear the suffocating silence any longer, I bolted from the cell. Covering my face with my bent elbow, I ignored their calls as I sprinted towards the exit, my feet stumbling over the uneven path. Reaching the relative peace of a secluded corner behind one of the palace buildings, I sank down onto the bottom step, burying my face in my hands.

The gentle glow of the half-moon cast long shadows across the quiet courtyard, offering a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. Stars twinkled brightly above, their celestial dance offering no solace to my troubled heart.

I squeezed my eyes shut, blinking back tears that threatened to spill. Hearing about assassination attempts had become a regular occurrence in my life, a grim reality that never seemed to lose its sting. Yet, this time felt different. The knowledge that the attacker was a former Jingbei soldier, a man who had once sworn an oath to protect the very people he was now trying to harm, sent a shiver down my spine.

A muffled sniffle escaped me as I reached into the folds of my blue hanfu. My fingers brushed against a familiar shape – a forgotten green onion pie from my earlier raid on the palace kitchen. A small smile flickered across my lips as I unwrapped it, the familiar savory scent momentarily distracting me from the turmoil within.

Taking a bite, I savored the comforting taste, the crunch of the flaky pastry and the slight sting of the onions momentarily grounding me. But the moment was fleeting. As the last morsel disappeared, a single tear rolled down my cheek.

Ever since I turned ten, my life had been a whirlwind, a stark contrast to the carefree days of my childhood. Peace, it seemed, was a luxury I could no longer afford.

Pushing back the fresh wave of tears, I stuffed the remaining green onion pie into my mouth, the familiar taste failing to bring its usual comfort. My fingers brushed against another hidden pastry, one I hadn't noticed before. As I turned to stash it away, hushed whispers drifted through the air, sending shivers down my spine.

The hushed tones, barely audible, spoke volumes of their intent – to remain unheard, unseen. My heart hammered against my ribs as I gauged the urgency in their voices.

Suddenly, a sharp silhouette flitted past the corner of my eye, its movements swift and silent like a striking viper. I scrambled to my feet, my senses on high alert. The figure blurred across the courtyard walls, its speed defying comprehension.

A chilling aura surrounded it, masking its movements from any casual observer. With each passing moment, the figure seemed to become one with the shadows, its dark cloak engulfing it in an inky veil.

My legs propelled me forward as a muffled scream pierced the night, emanating from the direction of the whispering disciples. My breath hitched as I witnessed a nightmarish scene – poisoned needles, glistening with an unnatural sheen, streaked through the air, their targets the unsuspecting disciples.

The screams died in their throats, replaced by vacant stares as the needles found their mark. Their bodies crumpled to the ground, lifeless husks succumbing to the swift and silent poison.

The assassin's black coat billowed dramatically in the sudden wind, the clashing clouds overhead finally unleashing a torrent of rain. A single, fat drop splattered onto my nose as I watched him, his surprise at the change in weather evident.

He snapped his fingers together, his movements sharp and efficient, before striding towards the fallen disciples. Their bodies lay sprawled on the rain-soaked ground, quickly succumbing to the elements. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he adjusted his coat, ensuring it wouldn't impede his movements.

My own body trembled as I witnessed yet another group of disciples fall victim to the silent assassin, this time before my very eyes. Panic clawed at my throat, my vision blurring at the edges. I fumbled for my pouch, desperately searching for the small, life-saving pill I always carried. My trembling fingers finally grasped it, and I swallowed it whole before collapsing against the wall, gasping for breath.

A sudden movement caught my eye. The assassin whirled around, his gaze landing directly on me. His eyes, the only part of his face visible beneath the shadow of his hood, seemed to spark with surprise. He raised a hand, his fingers spread wide.

Fear, cold and primal, flooded me. I stumbled back, my heart sinking as I saw a flurry of poisoned needles launched towards me. Reacting purely on instinct, I threw myself to the ground, rolling away just as the needles hissed through the air, narrowly missing their mark.

I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The assassin, realizing I was no easy target, unleashed another volley of needles. I leaped, my body twisting in mid-air as I landed nimbly on the branch of a nearby tree. Using the tree trunk as cover, I lowered myself to the ground, the needles embedding themselves harmlessly in the bark and leaves around me.

A tense silence descended as the assassin, seemingly surprised by my agility, retreated towards the exit. I surged forward, my feet pounding on the rain-slicked ground. My keen senses tracked his movements, his form a dark blur disappearing into the northwest, towards the direction of the other disciples' quarters.

Was he a rogue disciple, or perhaps even an elder, wielding such forbidden weapons and targeting his own sect members? The only way to find out was to follow him.

With a swift movement, I tore a strip of blue fabric from the hem of my hanfu, using it to mask the lower half of my face. My mind raced, formulating a plan. Then, with a burst of speed, I gave chase.

Drawing on my reserves of inner strength honed through years of qinggong training, I managed to keep pace with the fleeing figure. He weaved through the buildings, his black form a blur against the rain-slicked rooftops. Reaching a building, he paused, glancing back with a flicker of annoyance at my persistent pursuit.

Without wasting a moment, he propelled himself onto the roof in a single, fluid motion, his dark cloak billowing behind him. He continued his escape, his steps silent and agile as he navigated the uneven rooftops. Below, I saw guards stationed near the building scramble to react, a few taking off in pursuit.

With a burst of strength, I launched myself onto the roof he had just vacated, the old tiles groaning under my weight. Determined, I raced after him, his dark figure weaving through the maze of rooftops ahead.

Suddenly, a sharp sting erupted in my left arm, halting my pursuit momentarily. A poisoned needle, launched with deadly accuracy, protruded from my flesh. I gritted my teeth, pulling the needle free. A sickly green sheen coated the tip, confirming my worst fears - Blood Venom.

The potent poison threatened to cloud my vision, but I shook off the dizziness, fueled by an unwavering determination. The assassin, glancing back and noticing the effects of the poison, landed on another rooftop and continued his flight into the labyrinthine corridors of the sect's abode.

Guards converged on him, forming a tight circle. Frustration flickered across his face as his plan to incapacitate me had failed. Dropping down to join them, I stood at the center of the tense standoff.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice hoarse but resolute.

He scoffed, turning to my wounded arm with a cruel smile. "Blood Venom," he sneered. "You'll be dead in seven days. You should be focusing on that, princess."

My eyelids fluttered, exhaustion and the venom's insidious effects threatening to overwhelm me. But I refused to yield.

Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the scene before me. It wasn't just the venom coursing through my veins, but a potent cocktail of anger and frustration. "You lured me here on purpose?" I rasped, my voice barely above a whisper.

He only smirked, his silence speaking volumes.

The guards, their faces contorted in anger, surrounded the assassin, swords glinting in the dim light. Disciples spilled out of their quarters, drawn by the commotion, their hushed whispers adding to the tense atmosphere.

The assassin remained unfazed, his laughter echoing through the corridor. As the guards cautiously approached, he threw a small object on the ground. A thick, acrid smoke erupted, enveloping the hallway in a noxious haze.

Disciples stumbled back, coughing and sputtering, desperate to escape the suffocating fumes. I felt my eyelids growing heavy, my vision swimming as the drowsiness intensified. The guards retreated, hacking and coughing, unable to penetrate the growing cloud.

Within moments, the smoke dissipated as quickly as it appeared. But the assassin was gone, vanished without a trace.

A stunned silence descended upon the corridor. "Search!" the guards' leader bellowed, his voice hoarse. "He could be anywhere! Check every room!"

Following his orders, the guards scattered, their hurried footsteps echoing through the building. Disciples, their faces etched with confusion, joined the frantic search.

My legs buckled beneath me, my body succumbing to the insidious effects of the venom. Mo Yu and his companions emerged from their quarters, swords drawn, ready to join the hunt. Xiao Fan exchanged a worried glance with Su Ruo before they too rushed off, eager to contribute.

Orders were barked, swords clanged against armor, and the once peaceful abode became a whirlwind of desperate activity. My eyelids fluttered shut, the world dissolving into a hazy blur. My breaths grew shallow, my body growing numb.

Just as darkness threatened to consume me, a strong arm shot out, catching me before I could hit the ground. Looking up through a veil of dizziness, I saw Zhao Yun, his expression a mixture of concern and urgency.

He cradled me in his arms, his keen eyes scanning the wound on my arm. The world faded to black, his worried face the last image before I succumbed to the venom's grip, my hand falling limply at my side.

He hoisted me with surprising ease, his strong arms cradling me against his chest as he sprinted away from the chaos. His focused eyes darted around, searching for a safe haven. Every room he passed was occupied, the frantic search driving them to leave no corner unexplored.

Driven by desperation, he made his way towards the River Yu, the familiar wooden structure of his lodging coming into view. Bursting open the door with a single kick, he laid me gently on his bed.

Gazing intently at the needle protruding from my arm, its tip tinged with the unmistakable green of Blood Venom, he fell silent. With a swift movement, he ripped a piece of cloth from his shirt and used it to tighten a makeshift bandage around the wound.

A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as I whimpered in my sleep, my lips forming my mother's name in a soft murmur. He dipped another piece of cloth in cool water and gently placed it on my brow, a silent gesture of care amidst the storm raging within him.

His hand hovered over my face for a moment, his touch feather-light as he brushed a stray strand of hair from my cheek. The abrupt sound of a door slamming open shattered the fragile peace. Zhen Lan burst into the room, his eyes blazing with fury as he pointed his sword at Zhao Yun's throat.

"What did you do to her?!" he roared, his voice laced with a desperate fear that echoed the turmoil in Zhao Yun's own heart.

Comment 🌸 Vote 🌸 Share

Who is that assassin?

Did he intentionally poison her?

Will she survive?

Will Zhen Lan attack him?