Dusk had already fallen by the time Feng Xiyang received the news. She rushed to Jinghui Palace with a heart burning with anxiety, only to be stopped cold in the outer chamber by stone-faced guards. Left with no other option, she turned back toward the inner city, making straight for the Holy Emperor's study.
When she pushed open the door without ceremony, the Holy Emperor sat calmly at his desk, painting a peony flower stroke by deliberate stroke. "Why did you arrest him?" Feng Xiyang shouted, her anger overriding all protocol. She forgot even to bow. "You promised you wouldn't harm him!"
"I'm tired of playing games with them," the Holy Emperor said without bothering to look up. His silver brush continued its steady path, tracing a water-red hue across pristine rice paper. "Don't you think that by detaining Xia Jingshi, they'll surely make a move?"
Feng Xiyang stood frozen, her mind struggling to process this shift. "But… that's not what we agreed on before…" she stammered.
"Stay in the palace for the next few days," the Holy Emperor interrupted with cold dismissiveness. "Spend some time with the Empress Dowager. Once this matter is settled, you'll be on your way, won't you?"
"Your Highness might as well confess early to save His Majesty the trouble and allow this humble official to complete his duty sooner," the Judicial Commissioner sneered through the prison bars, sucking his teeth with an obnoxious tsk-tsk sound. "As the saying goes, an early death means early reincarnation!"
"What kind of creature are you to dare speak to this prince in such a manner?" Xia Jingshi's voice dripped with disdain. "To jump to conclusions without proper investigation is a grave offense of deceiving the emperor."
The Judicial Commissioner choked on his own smugness, covering it up with a dry cough before retreating sheepishly to his desk to sip his tea.
Amid the uncomfortable silence, a figure in light cyan robes appeared. The Judicial Commissioner hurried forward to bow deeply, his earlier arrogance evaporating. "Ah, Your Majesty…"
"Have you learned anything?" the Holy Emperor asked with deceptive casualness, his eyes fixed intently on Xia Jingshi.
The Judicial Commissioner hemmed and hawed for a long moment before admitting awkwardly, "In response to Your Majesty, the Prince of Zhennan… he refuses to say anything."
"Is that so?" The Holy Emperor's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "If he were so easy to break, he wouldn't be the Prince of Zhennan."
"Since that's the case, why don't you ask me yourself?" Xia Jingshi spoke with unnerving calm, pointing at the Judicial Commissioner with barely concealed contempt. "After all, you know me better than he does, don't you?"
The Holy Emperor raised an eyebrow, studying Xia Jingshi for a long moment before waving dismissively to send the Judicial Commissioner scurrying away. He approached the prison bars with deliberate slowness. "It seems that after all these years, you still hate me as much as I hate you."
"Never compare me to you," Xia Jingshi said, his voice as steady as stone. "You're not worthy."
"The unworthy one is you," the Holy Emperor shot back, his eyes flashing with a complex storm of emotions—contempt, anger, satisfaction, even a twisted kind of excitement. "Don't pin your hopes on Xiao Weiran. Within three days, he'll be here to keep you company. You're so clever, why don't you guess what I plan to do with you?"
Xia Jingshi met his gaze without flinching. "What else could it be but some trumped-up charge? Since it's fabricated anyway, why bother asking me to guess?"
The two men locked eyes in a battle of wills—brothers bound by blood, separated by everything else.
Xia Jingshi's heart remained calm despite the circumstances. He believed that Xiao Weiran would find Yixiao and rescue Ning Fei. Even if he couldn't escape this calamity, he would die with dignity intact. He couldn't tolerate anyone's insult, including the Holy Emperor's—his blood relative, the monarch he had served loyally for years.
"Guards!" the Holy Emperor called out with sudden severity. "Put heavy shackles on the Prince of Zhennan. If he resists, treat it as treason." He paused, revealing a wicked smile that transformed his face into something cruel. "And his subordinates will share his crime!"
As they neared the imperial capital, Feng Suige became increasingly cautious—almost paranoid. He avoided the conspicuous official roads entirely, leading the team instead through secret paths winding through dense forests, routes typically used only by escort agencies familiar with the terrain.
Due to the unclear situation ahead and Yixiao's adamant insistence, Xueying couldn't return to Lu City alone. She continued with the team toward the imperial capital—a decision that made her sulk for several days straight. Not only did she refuse to eat with Yixiao, but she also insisted on sleeping in a separate tent at night. Yixiao, already consumed with worry about Xia Jingshi and the others, had to simultaneously navigate Xueying's hurt feelings. The stress caused her to lose weight rapidly. Feng Suige watched with mounting concern but found himself helpless to intervene.
At noon that day, Feng Suige ordered the team to stop in the forest to rest and replenish their water supplies. He took a few guards to the nearby town to gather information about the situation in the capital. The soldiers from both countries—who had been quite hostile toward each other when departing Shusha—had gradually become friendly due to Feng Suige's clever arrangement of paired night duties. Now they sat scattered throughout the shaded area, their conversations filled with easy laughter and camaraderie.
Xueying listlessly climbed down from the carriage, intending to walk around and stretch her legs. As she rounded a large supply cart, she stopped abruptly. Yixiao was carrying a water bag, walking quickly toward the four captured Yulin soldiers tied up not far ahead.
Watching Yixiao bend down to offer water to each of the four men—showing them mercy despite everything—Xueying unconsciously pouted. She knew in her heart that Yixiao hadn't let her leave because she was worried about her safety. But right now, all Xueying could think about was Ning Fei's well-being.
She wondered desperately how Ning Fei was faring.
Lost in anxious thoughts, Xueying didn't immediately notice when Yixiao straightened up and turned to leave with the water bag. Then suddenly, with a theatrical groan, the lead Yulin military officer collapsed. He convulsed violently, vomiting up all the water he had just consumed, soaking himself completely.
The three other Yulin soldiers cried out in alarm. Yixiao tossed aside the water bag without hesitation and rushed forward to support the officer. After checking his pulse with practiced fingers, she frantically began untying the tight hemp ropes binding him.
Seeing the sudden chaos, Xueying took two steps forward to help—and that's when she caught it. A glimpse of something sharp and calculating in one of the other soldier's eyes, a look he hadn't managed to conceal quickly enough.
In a flash of terrible understanding, Xueying screamed with all her strength, "Look out—"
In that same instant, the officer had already made his move. His newly freed right hand shot out, gripping a broken thick branch concealed in his clothes. He thrust it directly at Yixiao's abdomen with lethal intent.
Too late, it was too late. Although it was just a thick, hard branch, the sharp broken end—driven with such desperate force—would surely pierce through Yixiao's thin autumn clothes and the soft flesh beneath…
Perhaps due to the intuition that exists between close friends, or perhaps due to reflexes honed from long years on the battlefield, Yixiao instinctively stepped back as Xueying's cry rang out. This slight movement reduced some of the devastating impact, but the remaining force was still enough to make her double over in pain, collapsing to the ground unable to move.
The officer shook off the remaining hemp ropes in two violent movements and raised the bloody branch to strike again. But by then, Xueying had already closed the distance. Acting on pure instinct, she grabbed the officer's messy hair bun and yanked hard backward, then thrust Ning Fei's dagger—the one he'd given her for protection—deep into the officer's exposed throat as he arched back.
Blood sprayed in a crimson arc.
Xueying was thrown backward by the officer's dying thrashing, landing hard on the ground.
The air filled with shouting—confused, panicked, urgent.
Nearby soldiers who had heard the commotion came running from all directions.
The officer's eyes bulged grotesquely, a wet hissing sound bubbling from his throat as he desperately tried to cover the red fountain bursting from his neck, tried in vain to pull out the fatal blade. Yixiao had managed to struggle to her feet despite the pain and was stumbling toward Xueying, who had been thrown aside. "Call for the physician first!" she shouted.
Almost simultaneously, Xueying—still half-lying on the ground in a daze—shouted to the approaching soldiers without looking back, "Yixiao is injured, quickly call for the physician!"
The entire camp erupted into chaos.
Amidst the commotion, Xueying was carried to the side by many helping hands, still half-dazed from her hard fall. She struggled to push away the physician's hand on her pulse and sat up with sudden anger. "Not me, it's Yixiao."
The physician looked startled for a moment, then turned to look toward the other side.
Yixiao was standing not far away, supported by a maid, anxiously looking in their direction. She was covered head to toe in blood that had spurted from the officer's severed throat—but her abdomen didn't show the bloody, gaping wound Xueying had imagined would be there.
Xueying sat frozen, stunned. Then suddenly she looked down at her own hands—at the blood coating her palms, her fingers, soaking into her sleeves.
A scream tore from her throat, echoing through the entire forest, "I've killed someone!!!"
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