Chapter 84

A dark mass of black-clad assassins blocked their path, drawing their swords with a chilling gleam.

“Your Highness, be careful!”

Yinghong rushed forward to block the attackers coming from the east, leaving three gaps undefended.

Tao Chuyi shielded Nangong Yunshang as they retreated step by step, her gaze sweeping across the southwest and north flanks.

The assassins had backed them into a corner—wolves ahead and no reinforcements behind. Moreover, these killers moved differently from the previous bunch; they didn’t seem to be from the same group.

Tao Chuyi tilted her head. “Sister, fall back.”

Nangong Yunshang had no choice. She knew no martial arts and would only be a burden to Chuyi if she stayed. Though she hated the idea, she retreated anyway.

In that instant, countless blades flashed toward Tao Chuyi, their reflections dancing across her brow and eyes. With a flicker in her gaze, she snatched a treasure sword and clashed with over thirty assassins.

Her movements were too swift. Nangong Yunshang could barely make out the techniques, let alone see how Chuyi was faring in the center of the encirclement.

Tao Chuyi spun downward, vanishing into the onslaught of sword tips, her figure lost amid the attackers.

“Chuyi!”

Nangong Yunshang cried out in panic, searching frantically for her. But she was nowhere to be seen—only assassins everywhere, no sign of Chuyi.

Just then, someone burst from the fray with a treasure sword in hand. Sword qi swept outward, felling over a dozen assassins.

Tao Chuyi touched down lightly with her toes and landed in front of Nangong Yunshang, sword at the ready. Her expression was impassive, her entire body radiating a killing intent.

“Today, this subject will protect the Princess completely.”

Nangong Yunshang was more worried about her safety than her own. She stepped forward to check and saw that the blood wasn’t Chuyi’s, which eased her mind a little.

“Chuyi, be careful.”

Tao Chuyi glanced back, meeting her eyes with a hint of a smile.

“Don’t worry. I won’t die.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she charged forward again, one sword against dozens. Her powerful inner force erupted outward, shockwaves repelling all the blades. The assassins crumpled to the ground, blood streaming from their every orifice as they died.

The ones battling Yinghong met the same fate. Overjoyed, Yinghong tossed aside her treasure sword and ran toward the two of them.

“The Prince Consort is still the best.”

Tao Chuyi stood amid pools of blood, corpses strewn everywhere. The sword in her hand dripped crimson.

Such scenes were all too familiar to her. She had survived countless slaughters just like this.

With a clang, the treasure sword fell to the ground. Tao Chuyi swayed like a leaf in the wind, on the verge of collapse.

“Chuyi!”

Before blacking out, Tao Chuyi vaguely saw Nangong Yunshang rushing toward her, face full of anxiety.

She wanted to tell her that she was fully awake. But her eyelids were too heavy, forcing her eyes shut.

Inside the County Yamen, the gates were tightly shut, guards posted thickly. Imperial physicians and the local Physician took turns checking her pulse while maids bustled in and out, feet barely touching the ground.

Nangong Yunshang sat across from the bed, anxiously watching the imperial physicians and the local physician deliberate for a long time.

“What’s his condition? Why hasn’t he woken up? Didn’t you say he wasn’t injured?”

The imperial physician turned and bowed. “The Prince Consort has no external wounds, but there are internal injuries. We don’t know much about Jianghu matters, so for the Prince Consort’s internal injuries… we can’t think of an effective treatment yet. We can only nurse him for now.”

Nangong Yunshang wanted to curse them out, but she swallowed her words, remembering she’d need these quacks before returning to the palace.

“My thanks to you both. Please do your utmost to treat the Prince Consort.”

“Of course, Your Highness. Rest assured—this subject will use every bit of his knowledge. If anything happens to the Prince Consort, this old man will smash his own signboard.”

The imperial physician pledged solemnly.

Nangong Yunshang had no interest in his signboard. As long as Chuyi was safe, nothing else mattered.

“Your Highness, why don’t you rest first? The maids and Zishan are here.”

Yinghong’s persuasion was cut short by Nangong Yunshang.

“You can all leave.”

What good would resting do? She wouldn’t sleep anyway. Better to stay and watch over her.

Yinghong and Zishan exchanged a glance and sighed, but they obeyed and withdrew.

Tao Chuyi wasn’t feverish and had no other wounds; the cut on her arm was already scabbing over. The internal injury was invisible and intangible, which made it all the more frustrating.

Nangong Yunshang gently stroked her cheek. “You little rascal. As long as you wake up, you can be as naughty as you want from now on—sister will indulge you. Sister just wants you to be okay.”

After a while of talking to herself, the unconscious girl showed no response.

“Your father and Xichan are waiting for you to come back. And Fifteen, Little Eight—they’re waiting for you to play with them. You can’t keep them waiting forever, right?”

Suddenly, the image of Tao Chuyi facing the assassins alone flashed in her mind. Nangong Yunshang paused. That Chuyi had been so different from her usual foolish self—no longer vacant.

Nangong Yunshang lay down beside her, lifting her hand to rest against her own cheek, as if that proved she was unharmed.

Foolish or not, she needed Chuyi to be safe.

Tao Chuyi lay unconscious for three days and nights. The imperial physicians were at a loss; no one could rouse her.

Nangong Yunshang barely ate or slept during those three days, watching over her until she looked utterly haggard.

The others saw it and wanted to comfort her, but no one knew how to broach it. Anyone in her position would struggle to stay calm.

“When will the Prince Consort wake up?”

Yinghong crouched at the door. If her princess was suffering, she’d suffer alongside her.

Zishan patted her head. “She will. Good people are protected by heaven.”

Zhao Linglong passed by several times, wanting to go in and persuade, but she never did, only sighing outside the door.

Finally, on the fourth day, Tao Chuyi awoke.

Everyone sprang to life—brewing medicine, preparing food, even buying firecrackers to celebrate chasing away the bad luck.

“How are you? Hungry? Thirsty?”

Faced with such tenderness from Nangong Yunshang, Tao Chuyi was dazed for a long while, as if from another world.

After a moment, she rasped, “Sister.”

Nangong Yunshang responded happily, then turned away to wipe her tears. At last, she’d heard this girl call her “sister” again.

Though awake, her face was deathly pale, like she’d been to hell and back, lacking her usual spark.

Nangong Yunshang ordered the servants to stew chicken soup and brew ginseng soup, stuffing it all into her to build up her strength.

After checking her pulse, the imperial physician said the internal injuries had improved, but rest was still needed. Everyone assumed her quietness came from weakness and noticed nothing amiss.

Tao Chuyi often stared out the window in a daze, memories flashing through her mind: Jiangnan before age ten, the dark years in her teens, then Tao Mansion, Princess Mansion.

Lowering her gaze, she saw Nangong Yunshang sleeping peacefully now that she was better.

But this time, the cautious one was her. If she weren’t Tao Chuyi, if she weren’t the child of Tao Siqing, what would sister do if she learned her true identity?

Perhaps her stare was too intense. Nangong Yunshang opened her eyes and met Tao Chuyi’s gaze before she could look away.

“What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable somewhere?”

After a thousand thoughts, Tao Chuyi called out sweetly, “Sister.”

She didn’t want to change any of this.

In a flash, Nangong Yunshang felt she hadn’t changed after all—perhaps only in the face of danger did Chuyi become like that.

Confirming she was fine, Nangong Yunshang composed herself, reached out to pat her head fondly, and said, “What’s this? Acting spoiled again. Bored? I’ll have Zishan find some acrobats later.”

“No.”

Tao Chuyi hugged her arm. “I just want sister to keep me company.”

She resolved to keep playing the little fool, acting harmless as Tao Chuyi—it was second nature, since she remembered those times too.

“Alright, sister will keep you company. No more acting spoiled.”

Nangong Yunshang vaguely felt that the Chuyi after waking was even more clingy and spoiled than before.

She didn’t ponder the reason, just focused on making her little Prince Consort happy. As long as Chuyi was content, she was too.

As an injured patient, Tao Chuyi was under constant guard, watched around the clock. Even a mosquito would have to check in with the Princess Mansion staff first.

“Sister, I want osmanthus cake.”

Nangong Yunshang indulged her every whim—even the stars from the sky, let alone osmanthus cake.

“Alright, I’ll send someone to buy some.”

“I’m going to sleep.”

Tao Chuyi burrowed under the covers and closed her eyes, looking truly sleepy.

“Good girl. Sleep well—sister will be right back.”

To avoid disturbing her, Nangong Yunshang closed the door softly and stepped outside to give instructions.

The moment the door clicked shut, Tao Chuyi opened her eyes. The pretense vanished, replaced by her original cold demeanor.

“Come out.”

Before the words finished echoing, a figure flipped in through the window and approached the bed. She removed her mask, revealing Fendie’s face.

“Rou’er, you’ve remembered?”

“Senior Sister, long time no see.”

Tao Chuyi sat up, no trace of foolishness left.

Their gazes met—one indifferent, one excited.

Fendie grabbed her hand. “You’re awake—thank goodness. Come back with me. I’ll plead with Master to give you a chance to redeem yourself and make up for failing the mission.”

Tao Chuyi pulled her hand free and said coolly, “Redeem how?”

“Since we can’t kill the Emperor, kill all his children, hollow out his power, and finish him off when he’s in the most pain.”

Tao Chuyi looked at her and suddenly gave a self-mocking laugh. “All his children? I can’t do it.”

Fendie froze for a moment, her expression turning odd. “You’ve really fallen for that princess? She’s your target. How could you develop feelings for her?”

Unlike her outrage, Tao Chuyi remained utterly calm. Among the Shadow Guards, Tao Chuyi had always been renowned for that cool composure, and everyone assumed Tao Chuyi would be their master’s successor. But it had all come crashing down two years ago, when Tao Chuyi failed on a mission.

“Forget about me, Senior Sister. How did you manage to infiltrate the County Princess’s mansion?”

Only then did Fendie recount her two years of undercover work. The County Princess Mansion’s investigations had been brutally thorough. While the Shadow Gu could fool pulse readings, no martial artist could fake their instincts against cold steel. To slip inside and bide her time, Fendie had swallowed a drug that temporarily stripped away her cultivation. She endured the physician’s diagnosis, the brutal trials on the training grounds, and the constant surprise attacks in daily life. Finally, they confirmed her identity was legitimate, and she became Rongrong County Princess’s personal maid.

But Rongrong County Princess turned out to be so viciously jealous that she sold Fendie off. With her cultivation still suppressed, Fendie thought her life was over. Heaven took pity on her, though, and led her straight to Tao Chuyi—who bore an uncanny resemblance to her junior sister.

Fendie clung desperately to her place in the Princess Mansion for two reasons: to hide her true identity, and because of Tao Chuyi. Once she took the antidote, her cultivation returned in full force. The fleeting shadows she’d glimpsed several times in the Princess Mansion? All her doing. The poisonings that had stirred up chaos across the Capital City? Her handiwork as well. Then came the day she stumbled upon Tao Chuyi disguising herself as a man, and Fendie was thrilled beyond words. Yet in the midst of it all, Tao Chuyi had slowly fallen for Yunshang Princess.

“Once an assassin lets emotions take hold, it’s a one-way ticket to the grave. You know that better than anyone.”

Fendie peered deep into Tao Chuyi’s eyes. “Never forget: you’re a Shadow Guard of the Southern Frontier Royal Family. You’re Rouying—not some Tao Chuyi.”

At those words, Tao Chuyi lowered her gaze, her face impossible to read.

“But I… am also Xia Qianhua of Jingyun.”