047. Betrayed Once Again
Yunan Feng had always been at odds with Yu Guhan. In his eyes, Yu Guhan was the type who bullied the weak and feared the strong; he acted arrogantly before those beneath him, but shrank timidly in the presence of Empress Yang and Prime Minister Yang. Yunan Feng had nothing but disdain for such a man.
He snorted coldly, “Elder Crown Prince, am I considered some idle bystander? Why didn’t you mention this before Qianxue? Why wait until now? Is it just so you can keep up appearances in front of her?”
Yu Guhan’s expression grew even colder. This Yunan Feng was truly a thorn in his side.
Sensing the tension, Yu Zhiyang let out a low chuckle and tried to smooth things over, “Enough, let’s go. We’ll fall too far behind if we linger.”
Only then did Yu Guhan give up the argument, snapping his riding crop as he hurried after Le Qianxue.
Yunan Feng had a decent impression of his third royal brother, Yu Zhiyang. At least Yu Zhiyang was always courteous and never looked down on anyone.
He said, “Third Brother, do you think he really likes Qianxue? Why else put on such a show in front of her?”
He, at least, was always straightforward.
Yu Zhiyang’s eyes grew momentarily pensive, but he only replied, “I don’t know.”
With nothing more to say, the two of them caught up as well.
During the horse race, all three men intentionally let Le Qianxue win, which left her feeling a bit bored.
Yu Guhan had originally wanted to invite Le Qianxue to fish by the river, but she refused.
Back at the General’s Manor, exhausted from the day’s activities, Le Qianxue ate a little before falling soundly asleep.
But during that night, trouble broke out at the Prince of War’s residence.
Not long after darkness fell, the Prince of War’s mansion grew utterly silent, as Zhan Lianjing cherished tranquility at night. This month was marked by a gloomy moon. Though his martial arts were largely unaffected, his legs remained crippled, so he turned in early.
Suddenly, a shadowy figure slipped through the estate, silent as a wraith—a true master had come.
The intruder, dressed in black but carelessly so, crept about Zhan Lianjing’s chamber, searching for something.
Strange, the room held no hidden compartments. Did Zhan Lianjing not have the item after all?
The black-clad man mused to himself and began rummaging through other things.
But then, the hiss of something slicing the air sounded. He dodged swiftly, realizing just in time that a hidden weapon had been aimed at him—lucky to have avoided it!
He patted his chest and said, “I was so quiet, yet you’re still awake?”
On the bed, Zhan Lianjing sat upright, his eyes glinting coldly in the darkness.
This was no ordinary man—anyone who could infiltrate his room was formidable. He had never experienced such a situation before.
Zhan Lianjing said, “You’re not bad yourself, making it this far.”
The black-clad man chuckled, dragging a high-backed chair over and sitting as if he owned the place. “It’s nothing. There’s nowhere I can’t go if I set my mind to it.”
Such arrogance—Zhan Lianjing had rarely encountered this kind of bravado. No, he had seen it before, but those individuals had all perished soon after.
In short, those who dared to act so arrogantly before Zhan Lianjing rarely lived long.
He now held another hidden weapon in his hand. “Who sent you?”
The black-clad man glanced around the chamber. “Who? I came alone.”
Zhan Lianjing frowned. Was the man refusing to answer, or was he truly alone?
The intruder had already searched the entire room and, finding nothing, sighed. “It seems you’re not the one I’m looking for. I’m leaving.”
Zhan Lianjing immediately flung another hidden weapon. “You came—you won’t be leaving.”
But the black-clad man simply caught it with ease, not exerting the slightest effort.
He smiled, “Others might not escape, but I will. Zhan boy, I advise you not to make a move, or who lives and who dies tonight is anyone’s guess.”
The intent was clear: he didn’t want to harm Zhan Lianjing.
But Zhan Lianjing was proud and ambitious—he had never met a worthy opponent. To encounter such a man tonight, how could he let him go?
As the black-clad man spoke, Zhan Lianjing attacked without warning, sending a flurry of hidden weapons. The man blocked them with his inner strength, and in that moment, Zhan Lianjing leapt forward, both hands crackling with energy.
Their palms clashed. Zhan Lianjing was shocked—this man’s inner strength was profound!
The intruder spun agilely, not retreating in the face of Zhan Lianjing’s onslaught. In terms of internal power, the man was far superior.
Zhan Lianjing, seated in his wheelchair, spun it swiftly as he attacked, his hands moving with lightning speed. The black-clad man was nearly overwhelmed.
Yet the intruder remained calm. After exchanging several blows, he suddenly seized Zhan Lianjing’s wrist.
“Zhan boy, who taught you your inner cultivation technique?” he questioned.
Zhan Lianjing frowned. “What concern is that of yours?”
This stranger’s origins were shrouded in mystery, and Zhan Lianjing sensed something amiss.
The man snorted. “Then do you know what the Ancestral Scroll is?”
Zhan Lianjing’s expression changed at last, his mask slipping. “Who sent you?!”
The black-clad man seemed to realize something and laughed. “Now I understand. Your clan can’t possibly keep that scroll safe. Look at you—a cripple. How can you accomplish anything great?”
Zhan Lianjing’s heart pounded with terror. “Who are you?!”
Eight years had passed, but never had his heart been so shaken—equal parts astonishment and grief.
The intruder said, “Zhan boy, you’d be better off dead. As for grand ambitions, you needn’t trouble yourself further.”
Zhan Lianjing realized the man was about to strike. He quickly moved to block, but the intruder was determined to end his life, unleashing ninety percent of his inner strength.
Zhan Lianjing’s meridians shuddered, his chest roiled with blood and energy. His eyes widened. That palm strike—it was the Scorching Blood Palm, a secret technique of Qiankun! He had yet to master it, and yet this man knew it!
Blood spurted from Zhan Lianjing’s lips. In a haze, he heard the black-clad man’s final words as he departed: “A pity you’re crippled. Had you cultivated another ten years, you might have reached my level.”
Gasping for breath, clutching his chest, blood staining his white garments, Zhan Lianjing gripped the armrests tightly. He could withstand physical pain, but what of the wounds in his heart? They would never heal.
Even as he slipped into unconsciousness, a name echoed in his mind—yet it was tinged with hatred.
At the General’s Manor, Le Qianxue was sleeping soundly when someone began pounding outside.
She woke groggily. Only a single candle flickered in the room, casting a dim glow. She asked, “What’s happening?”
Outside, Haoyue burst in. “Miss Le, please come quickly to the Prince of War’s manor!”
Le Qianxue was startled. “What’s wrong? Has Yuan Tianci met with trouble?”
Haoyue’s eyes were red. “The prince… he’s gravely injured… his life hangs by a thread!”
Le Qianxue was instantly wide awake, leaping out of bed. “Tell me what happened!”
Today, she had seen Zhan Lianjing in fine health—how could something have happened so suddenly?
Yin Susu and Huatao hurried to help Le Qianxue dress. Le Qianxue nudged Huatao, “Bring me the alchemy cauldron and medicine chest.”
She had a suspicion of what had occurred. If it were an ordinary injury, Yuan Tianci could have handled it. For Haoyue to come, it must have been beyond his skills.
Haoyue said, “I don’t know the details, but Doctor Yuan said to fetch you immediately—only then is there hope of saving His Highness.”
Le Qianxue was at a loss for words. Clearly, Yuan Tianci had failed and now was dragging her into the matter.
Dressed swiftly, with Huatao carrying the necessary items, Le Qianxue followed Haoyue out.
On the way, Haoyue explained that Zhan Lianjing had been found unconscious in his chamber, severely injured.
The Prince of War’s residence was always heavily guarded; few could approach it, and Zhan Lianjing’s martial arts were formidable. How could he have been so badly hurt?
Le Qianxue pressed her lips together, saying nothing. She had a vague idea, but could not voice it.
Arriving at the Prince’s manor, she found Zhan Lianjing’s room brightly lit, surrounded by anxious attendants.
Seeing Le Qianxue, Zhui Xing looked as if he’d seen a savior and hurriedly ushered her inside.
She closed the door behind her. “No one is to disturb me or Master Tianci.”
Yuan Tianci had been applying acupuncture, but at the sight of Le Qianxue, he nearly broke down in relief.
“Qianxue, thank goodness you’re here!”
She pushed him aside, set down her medicine chest, and asked, “What’s the situation?”
Yuan Tianci bit his lip. “Look at his chest. I don’t know what happened—half his meridians are broken. He was attacked by a master!”
Le Qianxue examined Zhan Lianjing’s chest—a black palm print marred the skin.
She checked his pulse; indeed, half his meridians were severed.
Her expression grew grave as she quickly retrieved her acupuncture kit and began the treatment.
“Can you save him?” Yuan Tianci asked. “His injuries are too severe. I only have a thirty percent chance—so I called you.”
Le Qianxue didn’t look up. “Thankfully, it’s not cancer. Otherwise, there’d be nothing I could do.”
“Cancer?” Yuan Tianci echoed, puzzled.
Le Qianxue couldn’t be bothered to explain. “This master showed mercy, or Zhan Lianjing would already be dead. Open my medicine chest and take out the blue-cased elixir. Give it to him.”
Yuan Tianci checked—the last one remained.
“This is the Heart-Fortifying Pill you spoke of before. There’s only one left—are you sure you want to use it?”
“There’s no choice,” Le Qianxue whispered. “Tianci, check Zhan Lianjing’s room for that so-called Ancestral Scroll. Now is your best chance.”
Yuan Tianci’s eyes lit up. He shot Le Qianxue a thumbs-up and hurried to search.
Le Qianxue knew Zhan Lianjing was in a state of feigned death, clinging to his last breath. Had it been left to Yuan Tianci, he would have been lost, but she was not so easily defeated.
She pricked her own finger, drawing a drop of blood.