Tao Chuyi froze in place, surrounded by the crowd. It wasn’t fear that held her there—it was simply too sudden. She hadn’t been prepared.
Nangong Yunshang’s expression darkened slightly as she advanced step by step. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I…”
“I know you’re awake.”
Nangong Yunshang spoke first. “You actually recovered before you were captured, didn’t you? You’ve just been pretending to be a fool this whole time. Why the act? Because you’re from the Southern Frontier?”
Tao Chuyi’s heart ached. Being questioned left her speechless, only deepening her sorrow. Suddenly, she clutched her chest in agony as blood trickled from the corner of her lips, frightening everyone around her.
“Tao Chuyi! Chuyi!”
Nangong Yunshang caught her collapsing body and called out urgently.
After this commotion, Tao Chuyi found herself back on the bed.
The imperial physicians were summoned in haste to take her pulse. They examined her over and over, concluding that the prince consort’s internal injuries had likely been present for at least two years. Perhaps her prior foolishness had kept them from manifesting, but now that her mind was clear, the damage had surfaced.
Nangong Yunshang was horrified to hear this. It meant Chuyi had carried these injuries even before their marriage.
“How should they be treated? Whatever medicinal ingredients are required, imperial physician, just say the word.”
The imperial physician bowed. “This subject is not proficient in treating internal injuries, but fortunately, the prince consort’s heart meridians remain stable for the time being. I can prescribe medicine to sustain his vital energy. Once we return to the palace, this subject and the other imperial physicians can deliberate and develop a proper remedy.”
“This palace understands. We’ll return to the palace the moment he’s feeling better.”
Nangong Yunshang waved her hand, dismissing the others. The room fell quiet once more, leaving only the two of them.
Tao Chuyi cracked one eye open stealthily. Seeing the sorrow on Nangong Yunshang’s face, she felt immediate regret.
Her earlier outburst had indeed been a surge of qi and blood attacking her heart, but she had also gambled on her sister’s concern for her.
“Sister, I’m sorry.”
Nangong Yunshang turned, joy flickering in her eyes. But remembering how Chuyi had feigned madness to abandon her, her smile faded in an instant.
“You still know to apologize to me? Were you planning to just vanish forever, never to see me again? You’ve never truly cared for me. You don’t trust me at all.”
As her words grew harsher, Tao Chuyi struggled to sit up and pulled her into a tight embrace.
“I was wrong—truly. It won’t happen again. I love you. It’s real.”
The embrace and words of love steadied Nangong Yunshang’s emotions, pulling her back from her obstinate spiral.
Only after sensing her calm did Tao Chuyi release her.
“I’m truly sorry. I didn’t want to drag you down or put you in a difficult spot.”
Her eyes reddened, tears brimming and threatening to spill. Paired with her sickly pallor, she looked utterly pitiable.
“I’m a hidden guard of the Southern Frontier Royal Family. Three years ago, I was the leader of the assassins dispatched to kill the Jingyun Emperor—Rouying.”
Nangong Yunshang fell silent. She had suspected Tao Chuyi had ties to the Southern Frontier, but she never imagined her as one of the attackers at that sacrificial ceremony.
Tao Chuyi managed a sorrowful smile, tears falling like beads from a broken string. “I’m also the youngest daughter of the Xia household in Suzhou—Xia Qianhua.”
Nangong Yunshang was completely dumbfounded. Even after Tao Chuyi explained the full story from start to finish, she remained lost in thought for a long while.
The longer the silence stretched, the more anxious Tao Chuyi grew. Would her sister forgive her? Did she even have the right to hope for it?
“I’m sorry—truly sorry. Back then, I couldn’t remember who I was. All I knew was my mission to kill. But you felt strangely familiar, so when the emperor used you to block the sword, I hesitated.”
Tao Chuyi wept for quite some time before Nangong Yunshang finally regained her senses. She gently stroked her cheek.
“You’re back now—that’s what matters. You’ve suffered so much.”
She drew Tao Chuyi into her arms, patting her back softly.
“You’re back now—that’s what matters.”
Tao Chuyi had never cried like this before. The tears from her first eighteen years combined probably wouldn’t match this torrent. She soaked Nangong Yunshang’s clothes through, then, still sniffling, patted the damp spots sheepishly.
Nangong Yunshang let out a soft chuckle and a light sigh. “How did you turn from a little fool into a little crybaby?”
“Sister, you’re teasing me.”
Ashamed of her outburst, Tao Chuyi buried her face in the crook of her neck and refused to emerge.
Nangong Yunshang gathered her composure. “Yes, I’m teasing you. What about it? Not allowed?”
“Allowed.”
Tao Chuyi mumbled her reply.
“Only sister gets to tease you.”
They settled back onto the sickbed, and another three days slipped by in the delay. When Tao Chuyi finally prepared to depart once more, Yinghong and Zishan stared at her as if she were a stranger.
“Prince Consort?”
Zishan curtsied in a daze.
Was this elegant, slender young gentleman—slender as jade and refined as orchids—truly their family’s foolish prince consort?
No longer addled, her bearing had transformed as well. She now exuded an otherworldly serenity that perfectly complemented the cold moonlight.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you recognize me anymore?”
Tao Chuyi strolled between them, coming face-to-face with Zhao Linglong and offering a slight nod.
“General Zhao.”
Zhao Linglong fared no better than the others, gaping as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Greetings, Prince Consort.”
Just then, Nangong Yunshang emerged from the room. Tao Chuyi whirled around, hurrying forward a few steps to help her down the stairs.
Nangong Yunshang laughed. “You’re the one who’s injured. Am I the invalid now, having you support me?”
“I’m feeling much better. It’s only proper for me to assist sister.”
Her movements were so fluid and practiced that they seemed second nature.
“Yinghong, ready the carriage and pack our belongings. We’re returning to the capital city at once.”
At Nangong Yunshang’s command, the attendants bustled about in preparation. Tao Chuyi, as the patient, stayed close by her side, murmuring sweet nothings.
They made ready in the morning, and by afternoon, the large procession set off without further delay.
Inside the carriage, Nangong Yunshang dabbed at the fine beads of sweat on Tao Chuyi’s forehead with a handkerchief. Still recovering from grave wounds, her body remained frail; even slight exertion brought on cold sweats.
“Should I tell them to stop?”
Tao Chuyi shook her head. “I’m fine.”
The sooner they left this place, the safer her sister would be.
She endured the discomfort, nestling into Nangong Yunshang’s embrace and closing her eyes. She was determined not to slow their journey again.
After a moment, sensing she wasn’t asleep, Nangong Yunshang asked softly, “Who caused your internal injuries? Are they… serious?”
Ordinary physicians—even those imperial physicians of middling skill—couldn’t diagnose the gu poison afflicting her.
Tao Chuyi opened her eyes. “The leader of the Shadow Guards struck me down. My mission failed, so she pursued me to take my life. It’s not overly severe, but it won’t heal in a day or two. Long-term rest is needed.”
Nangong Yunshang held her closer. “I’ll summon the finest imperial physicians to treat you. If they fail, we’ll scour the realm for divine healers. Any rare ingredients required, I’ll have people procure them. We must cure you.”
“Sister, don’t trouble yourself. This could be retribution for the wrongs I aided.”
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
Nangong Yunshang chided her gently. “You were a victim too, exploited by others. Don’t blame yourself. Our Chuyi is the kindest person there is. Have I not seen that clearly after all this time?”
Heart full and content, Tao Chuyi smiled and shut her eyes.
“Sister, let me tell you a story. Long ago in the mountains, a little bird always kept a little girl company while she gathered herbs. But one day, the bird fell deathly ill. Should it fly far away to spare the girl her worry, or stay by her side for one final journey?”
For no reason Nangong Yunshang could name, her heart tightened. She clasped Tao Chuyi’s hand. “If I were that bird, I’d choose the latter. Let the girl have a cherished memory of beauty. When hardships come her way later, she can draw strength from it to carry on.”
Tao Chuyi squeezed back, nuzzling her cheek against the crook of her neck.
“I understand.”
The carriage continued onward. After entering the dense forest, they encountered a swamp and were forced to detour along a neighboring mountain path.
Zishan rode ahead on horseback and spotted a group approaching the carriage from afar. Their movements were jerky, like puppets on strings.
“Halt!”
Nangong Yunshang looked up. “What’s happening outside?”
Zishan called back, “There are strange people ahead.”
“They don’t look human.”
Yinghong had keen eyesight. She craned her neck for a better look, then cried out in alarm. “They have three eyes, and their faces are azure!”
“This is bad!”
Zhao Linglong yanked her reins, wheeling her horse around. “Fall back! Protect Your Highness and the prince consort!”
The entire procession reversed course at once. But by then, the figures charged toward the carriage like frenzied beasts, somehow faster than the horses.
Zhao Linglong drew her sword. “With me—slay these monsters!”
The horses whinnied in panic. The carriage team reared up, sending the vehicle into violent convulsions.
Tao Chuyi shot to her feet, shielding Nangong Yunshang to keep them both from being thrown.
She lifted the curtain. The guards were already locked in combat with the monsters but were clearly outmatched. The azure-faced, fanged horrors lunged like rabid animals, fearless and ripping with their claws.
“Why are there azure beasts here?”
Nangong Yunshang asked, bewildered. “What are azure beasts?”
Tao Chuyi dropped the curtain swiftly, keeping the monsters’ attention away.
“A Southern Frontier secret technique. It refines corpses into beasts under the caster’s control, unleashed to attack at will. They’re called azure beasts for the bluish hue of their faces once completed.”
Nangong Yunshang couldn’t help marveling at such a sinister art, one she’d never heard of before.
“How can anyone be so brutal?”
Tao Chuyi made no reply. Such horrors were utterly commonplace in the Southern Frontier.
Suddenly, an azure beast clawed at the carriage curtain and began clambering up. Tao Chuyi seized the short sword stowed in the carriage and hacked off its grasp. One after another they came; she felled them all, guarding Nangong Yunshang without a single gap.
“Chuyi, be careful!”
Tao Chuyi’s gaze remained calm and steady. “Don’t worry. I’ve faced them before.”
To graduate from training and become a true Shadow Guard, one had to carve a bloody path out from amid the Azure Beasts. Otherwise, death awaited beneath their rending fangs and claws.
Nangong Yunshang had no time to dwell on what Tao Chuyi had meant by “dealt with” in the past. The Azure Beasts were multiplying rapidly, surrounding the carriage without so much as a gap for water to seep through.
How could they break through this encirclement?
Tao Chuyi swiftly scooped Nangong Yunshang into her arms and leaped onto a nearby ancient tree. She placed Nangong Yunshang amid the dense foliage and covered her with branches and leaves.
The Azure Beasts searched restlessly beneath the tree, but the fresh, earthy scent of the wood threw off their senses. Unable to pinpoint their quarry despite a thorough hunt, they could only prowl back and forth, falling one by one to the guards’ blades.
“Chuyi, I…”
Tao Chuyi pressed a finger to her lips in a silencing gesture, then vaulted downward. Her short blade whirled in a deadly arc, felling several Azure Beasts in an instant.
Nangong Yunshang’s heart pounded as she watched, but she didn’t dare make a sound for fear of drawing the monsters straight to them and wasting Chuyi’s painstaking efforts.
She clutched her chest, watching the scene below in trembling suspense.
When the short blade swung toward another Azure Beast, Nangong Yunshang finally got a clear look at its face and froze in shock. Down below, in a split-second of hesitation, the beast lunged ferociously and sank its teeth into Tao Chuyi’s shoulder.
Tao Chuyi winced in pain and shoved the creature back with a fierce palm strike. Undeterred, the Azure Beast flattened itself to the ground, muscles coiling for another assault.
“Chuyi?”
Nangong Yunshang couldn’t fathom why Tao Chuyi was showing mercy. Anxiety burned within her like wildfire; she desperately wished she could rush down there herself.
Tao Chuyi pushed herself up from the ground, a sharp, tearing pain radiating from her shoulder.
