In the blink of an eye, Pursuing Shadow struck with a palm straight at her face.
Dieying’s eyes bulged wide, blood streaming from every orifice. Her neck lolled to the side, and her body crumpled to the ground.
“Senior Sister!”
Tao Chuyi let out a hoarse scream, but she couldn’t move so much as a finger.
Pursuing Shadow advanced toward her, and Tao Chuyi had no strength left to resist.
Just then, the thunder of dense footsteps echoed from afar, mingled with the pounding of hooves—like an army on the march.
Pursuing Shadow halted, a sneer curling her lips. She turned, hoisted Dieying’s body over her shoulder, and vanished without a trace.
As she departed, a large contingent of troops arrived. Nangong Yunshang, supported by Yinghong, rushed toward Tao Chuyi.
Before losing consciousness, Tao Chuyi vaguely made out an anxious face hovering nearby. In her ears rang Nangong Yunshang’s voice calling her name.
Tao Chuyi was covered in wounds, a gruesome sight. The imperial physicians were summoned at once to check her pulse. No one dared speak, all waiting tensely for their verdict.
Nangong Yunshang sat by the bed, her face pale, her eyes bloodshot. In the two days Chuyi had been missing, she hadn’t closed her eyes once. Even with her own body weakened from exhaustion, she couldn’t bring herself to rest.
“How is she?”
The imperial physician hesitated, checking the pulse over and over before finally saying, “The prince consort has both external and internal injuries. The external ones are grievous—skin split and flesh torn—but they’re not the most dangerous. As for the internal injuries, this humble servant is incompetent; I’ve never seen anything like it. I must return to study it further. The prince consort likely endured a high fever for days, but once he survives this ordeal, he can recover in peace.”
Nangong Yunshang snapped, displeased, “So he just has to tough it out like this?”
“Of course not—we won’t let the prince consort suffer through it alone.”
Sweat beaded on the imperial physician’s forehead. He hurried to amend, “This humble servant will prescribe medicine to reduce the fever and ease the pain, helping the prince consort through this crisis.”
“Then why are you still here?”
The imperial physician rose immediately, backing away as he bowed.
“Yes, right away—right away, Your Highness.”
Watching the figure sprawled motionless on the bed, Nangong Yunshang felt her patience draining away like sand from an hourglass. Anyone who crossed her now would be asking for trouble.
“Your Highness…”
Yinghong’s words of caution died unspoken as Nangong Yunshang shot her a sharp glare, silencing her at once.
“You too—go brew the medicine and bring it here as soon as it’s ready.”
Yinghong bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”
With everything arranged and everyone dismissed, Nangong Yunshang slumped against the foot of the bed, utterly spent.
“No matter who you are, just live—you hear me, Tao Chuyi… Chuyi.”
But the current Tao Chuyi could neither see nor hear. All her awareness was crushed in suffocating darkness.
In some unknown place, she saw herself as she had been upon first being brought to the Southern Frontier.
“From now on, her name is Rouying. She’s your junior sister— you’re responsible for training her.”
Pursuing Shadow had dragged a half-grown child from somewhere and dumped her at Dieying’s feet.
As leader of the Shadow Guards, Pursuing Shadow answered directly to the Southern Frontier King. Her time was precious, and she came and went like a shadow. Most new recruits were handed off to their senior brothers and sisters for training.
The girl’s small face was caked in grime. She looked up at the expressionless woman.
Dieying stepped closer. “Don’t hold me back, got it?”
Then her training began. Like all new Shadow Guards, she endured grueling daily drills, punished for the slightest mistake. She didn’t even know who she was—only that her master had told her she was Rouying from now on.
She hated the training and deliberately botched tasks, hoping to die quickly.
Dieying saw her return covered in injuries, her gaze as cold as ever. But then she tossed a porcelain vial her way.
When the girl just stared blankly, Dieying crouched down, poured out the powder, and applied it to the wounds.
“You’re hopelessly foolish—you can’t even dress a wound.”
Even as she said it, Dieying’s touch grew gentler.
One day, she saw her injured senior sister return—punished because of her own poor performance.
“What’s with that miserable face? I’m not dead yet.”
Dieying applied salve to her own wounds. “You’re the one I trained. When you screw up, I take the punishment. Not for your sake.”
After that, Rouying’s scores became exemplary. She never erred again.
She graduated fastest among the new Shadow Guards, succeeding in every mission—ten flawless assignments in a row. Even Pursuing Shadow praised her.
“Rou’er, you’ve really made something of yourself. Better than I was.”
Dieying beamed as she approached, but Rouying’s face remained impassive.
“Greetings, Senior Sister. I have a mission—back soon.”
“Rou’er!”
Dieying stood frozen, watching the junior sister she had raised vanish into the distance.
She grew ever stronger, ever colder.
Senior Sister…
After three days and nights of nonstop fever, Tao Chuyi awoke. Seeing Nangong Yunshang’s haggard face, she felt a pang but revealed nothing.
“Sister, I’m thirsty.”
Her throat rasped like a broken gong, yet it brimmed with life.
Nangong Yunshang hurriedly poured two full cups of water and helped her drink. She sent for millet and peony root porridge to settle the stomach. Stabilize the body first, then nourish it—otherwise, weakness would reject the tonics and do more harm.
“Good girl, have some porridge, then take your medicine.”
Tao Chuyi tilted her head, obediently swallowing half a bowl before shaking her head—she couldn’t manage more.
“We’ll take the medicine soon. Sister has candy here—no need to be scared, Chuyi.”
Nangong Yunshang coaxed her, her voice so tender it could drip water. She gently wiped the facial wounds with a cool cloth.
Tao Chuyi basked in that gentleness, letting herself think of nothing, content to play Nangong Yunshang’s little fool.
These days while she lay unconscious, Nangong Yunshang had fed her medicine mouth-to-mouth. Now that she was awake, she switched to spooning it carefully to her lips.
Tao Chuyi was utterly quiet. Each day passed in eating, drinking medicine, and sleeping. She never mentioned the kidnapping or anything else—only one word ever passed her lips: “Sister.”
“The prince consort is awake now, thank goodness. We’ll scour for rare herbs, no matter the cost, to build her strength back up.”
Yinghong chattered away as she cleared the dishes, talking to herself.
Nangong Yunshang had already reported back: the prince consort had taken grave wounds saving her and needed rest—no traveling. The main force returned to the palace ahead, leaving their small group to recuperate on-site.
“Chuyi, dear, have a bit more ginseng soup.”
The spoon reached her lips, and Tao Chuyi opened obediently.
“Want some osmanthus cake?”
Yinghong chimed in, “The prince consort is still too weak for that.”
“Right, right—of course. I’m panicking and grasping at straws.”
Nangong Yunshang pondered what to feed Chuyi to speed her recovery.
“Chuyi, what do you want to eat? Tell Sister.”
Tao Chuyi didn’t answer, just smiled at her. “Sister.”
“Mm, I’m right here.”
Nangong Yunshang stroked her cheek—it had grown so much thinner. She would fatten her up soon.
Tao Chuyi kept smiling. “Sister.”
In the next room, Nangong Yunshang slammed the table, startling everyone inside.
“He’s been awake for days—why can he only say two words? Nothing else?”
The imperial physician bowed. “The prince consort’s old condition of simplemindedness may have been aggravated by his internal injuries.”
Nangong Yunshang eyed him. “You mean he’ll be even more foolish from now on?”
“No, no—that’s not what this humble servant meant.”
Lacking a cloth, the imperial physician mopped his sweat with his sleeve.
“What I mean is, the prince consort suffered a terrible fright and grave wounds. It’s temporary. As his body heals, his mind will recover fully.”
Nangong Yunshang drew a deep breath, sighing wearily. “Fine, you’re dismissed.”
“Yes.”
The imperial physician retreated in relief.
Tao Chuyi couldn’t leave bed, lying there for over a month. The sweltering heat of late summer gave way to early autumn. Nangong Yunshang changed her dressings and fed her medicine daily. Her injuries finally improved—she could get up, though her steps were unsteady and she needed support. She couldn’t stray far or for long.
The moment she clutched the wall and tottered a short distance around the room, Nangong Yunshang caught her and marched her straight back to bed.
“Your wounds aren’t fully healed—why are you wandering about?”
Tao Chuyi sat on the bed’s edge, beaming foolishly at her.
“Sister.”
Nangong Yunshang patted her head. “Be good and listen, then you’ll heal faster.”
Tao Chuyi nodded. “Sister.”
Will you hate me?
Nangong Yunshang helped her lie down. The wounds had mostly closed, so lying flat was comfortable now.
“Want to sleep more?”
Tao Chuyi shook her head.
Nangong Yunshang smiled and tapped her nose. “Little clingy one—want a story again?”
Tao Chuyi hugged her hand, as if agreeing.
Nangong Yunshang sat by the bed, recounting childhood tales. Midway, she realized Chuyi had dozed off. She pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and slipped out quietly.
The room fell silent, leaving Tao Chuyi alone. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, crystal clear—no trace of sleepiness.
She couldn’t stay here any longer. From every angle, she had to leave.
As long as she had breath, she could slip away whenever she chose—no one could stop her.
Tao Chuyi took nothing, just draped on her gown—the new one Sister had bought.
By dusk, under cover of night, she evaded the guards and wound her way to the rear courtyard. The manor was unfamiliar, yet she swiftly found an exit.
The wall behind the firewood shed went unguarded. A leap over it, and she would be gone.
Today they parted with no hope of reunion tomorrow.
Tao Chuyi felt a pang of reluctance in her heart, but reason told her she had to go. Yet just as she was about to vault over the wall, she came to an abrupt halt.
She had survived an assassin ambush and was still injured—was the security in the courtyard too lax?
Tao Chuyi scanned her surroundings. The only explanation was that someone had ordered the guards to stand down, deliberately leaving an opening.
And that someone could only be Nangong Yunshang.
Sure enough, a swarm of guards rushed into the back courtyard, torches blazing as they surrounded her. Footsteps echoed from beyond the wall at the same moment—an attack from both sides. If she wanted to escape, she would have to fight her way out.
Tao Chuyi clenched her fists. These were her sister’s men; she didn’t want to raise a hand against them.
Nangong Yunshang emerged from the crowd and stepped forward to stand at its forefront.
“Prince Consort, where are you going?”
Tao Chuyi stared at her in stunned silence. A chill seeped through her body, her feet growing as heavy as lead. She could not take another step.
