Chapter 9

The system was just too trash, leaving Xiao Jin deeply vexed.

However, after a second thought, she recalled that the system had previously assigned her a side quest, but Eldest Princess Zhaoyang wasn’t even in the Imperial Palace, making it impossible to fulfill the prerequisites.

This meant certain events could shift abruptly, and the system couldn’t predict every specific detail.

Therefore, all she truly possessed was…

A shoddy knockoff system that could detect danger coefficients.

The system seemed to know Xiao Jin held a grudge against it, so it offered a kind reminder: “Although the Emergency Mission is highly difficult, accordingly, the Host’s Lifespan reward will be tripled. Furthermore, if the mission is completed, there will be additional bonuses.”

A 3x drop rate?

Xiao Jin was somewhat tempted.

She glanced at Chu Shao standing beside her, noticing nothing unusual in the other’s expression.

She also remembered that, due to the original novel’s authorial design, the female lead’s martial prowess in the book wasn’t high. Thus, Chu Shao shouldn’t pose much of a threat.

Therefore, she guessed the emergency likely stemmed from other factors.

As for the exact nature of the threat, Xiao Jin wasn’t yet sure. But fortunately, when the soldiers come, we’ll block; when the water comes, we’ll dam it.

Though she hadn’t brought attendants into the palace, for safety’s sake, twelve guards from the manor and a carriage were waiting outside.

Xiao Jin remembered the steward mentioning that the original owner’s personal guards were elite soldiers drafted from the Divine Machine Camp.

Honestly, she was a bit curious. With such a setup, what kind of accident could possibly happen?

Thinking this, Xiao Jin turned to the coachman and asked, “Rushing here from Prince Yan’s Manor to the palace, how long did the carriage ride take?”

Though puzzled by the question, the coachman answered truthfully, “Replying to Your Highness, about half a shichen.”

Half a shichen, that’s one hour.

Calculating this way, on the return trip, the midway point would be Vermilion Bird Street.

After a moment’s deliberation, Xiao Jin made her decision and nodded. “This Prince understands.”

……

Due to Xiao Jin’s leg ailment, the carriage’s pace wasn’t fast, even slower than usual.

Inside the carriage, Xiao Jin focused entirely on calculating the time. Chu Shao, meanwhile, was fixated on observing Xiao Jin.

More precisely, she was observing Xiao Jin’s bone structure.

From the knuckles to the neck, from the bridge of the nose to the chin, Chu Shao’s gaze was extremely bold, yet her eyes remained ever so gentle.

However, Chu Shao did harbor some doubts.

Typically, male bones are much thicker than female bones, and their bone density is heavier.

Yet Xiao Jin’s frame was slender, her bones delicate. It didn’t seem to be weakness caused by illness, but rather an innate quality.

After staring for a long while, Chu Shao also noticed Xiao Jin’s black boots looked rather small. Likely, the ankles beneath were also petite and soft.

No matter how she looked at it, it seemed strange.

But the strangest part was that, for a time, Chu Shao couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what was so strange about Xiao Jin.

That was the most amusing part.

On the other side of the carriage, Xiao Jin was in a brainstorming frenzy, silently counting the minutes, completely failing to notice Chu Shao’s unbridled gaze upon her.

When only ten minutes remained until the Emergency Mission, Xiao Jin snapped back to her senses. Turning her head, her eyes met Chu Shao’s directly.

“…”

Admittedly, Chu Shao’s face was beautiful. Her expression was calm and her smile impeccable.

Yet Xiao Jin inexplicably felt a shiver run down her spine.

At the final moment, Xiao Jin’s instincts screamed that she couldn’t stay in the same carriage as Chu Shao. She lifted the curtain and said to the coachman, “Stop.”

After halting the carriage, the coachman descended, trembling with apprehension.

Seeing the obvious lack of ease on Xiao Jin’s face, he thought he’d unknowingly offended this master.

He was about to kneel and beg for mercy, but unexpectedly, Xiao Jin coughed twice with a pale face and asked calmly, “This should be Lotus Street. If one were to ride at full speed to the Divine Machine Camp from here, how long would it take?”

The coachman was stunned for a moment before answering, “Replying to Your Highness, roughly the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.”

Drawing upon years of novel-reading experience, Xiao Jin vaguely recalled that “the time it takes to drink a cup of tea” equated to about ten minutes.

If the emergency was set to happen in ten minutes, the system’s prediction must have factored in the carriage’s travel speed.

This meant the incident was destined to occur on Vermilion Bird Street.

So Xiao Jin decided to do the opposite. She’d send the coachman with Prince Yan’s token to the Divine Machine Camp to summon a hundred cavalrymen.

Meanwhile, she herself would stay put on Lotus Street.

If no emergency occurred, she’d only suffer a minor loss, while ensuring her life was safe.

If the emergency did strike, the coachman would only need ten minutes to reach the Divine Machine Camp, plus the return ride, totaling twenty minutes.

As long as she could stall for ten minutes, it would be a massive win.

Having come to this conclusion, Xiao Jin instructed Chu Shao and the attendants to help her from the carriage. She then handed the token to the coachman, concisely relaying her orders.

Before he departed, she didn’t forget to urge, “Remember, as fast as possible. And This Prince only wants the cavalry from the Divine Machine Camp.”

Receiving the weighty token, the coachman’s hands initially trembled.

But once he mounted his horse, his expression became resolute. He spoke with ringing determination, “Please rest assured, Your Highness! This lowly one will not fail your important trust. I will return with the elite soldiers!”

“…”

Xiao Jin felt a bit sheepish. Brother, don’t say that! You sound exactly like a soldier in a war drama raising a death flag.

Chu Shao stood next to Xiao Jin.

Though she didn’t understand what this person was scheming, she continued playing the role of an ally, steadily holding Xiao Jin’s wheelchair.

Yet, when she’d helped Xiao Jin down from the carriage earlier, Chu Shao clearly registered how light the other’s body weight was.

Especially when their clothes brushed, Chu Shao discovered Xiao Jin’s body was unexpectedly soft, not quite like a man’s, but more like…

But every time her thoughts reached that point, she came up empty.

Gazing at Xiao Jin’s slightly pursed lips, a smile tugged at Chu Shao’s mouth. She felt she had never been so curious about something in her life, yet utterly unable to solve the riddle.

Most intriguing.

By now, Xiao Jin had no mind to pay attention to the yandere standing next to her.

Preparing for the upcoming danger, she had already retrieved a bow and a sword from the carriage.

Testing the sword casually, Xiao Jin felt the original owner’s swordsmanship must have been quite decent. Even with this frail body, she could manage a respectable sword flourish.

After testing it, she sheathed the blade.

But a sudden doubt arose in her heart: Setting aside why the original owner disguised herself as a man, even pretending to be a prince, her martial arts skills were simply too good—clearly honed over many years.

But why would the original owner go to such lengths?

Confused as she was, Xiao Jin knew the immediate priority was dealing with the emergency.

Looking at the manor guards who stood with swords drawn but looking utterly lost, Xiao Jin felt like laughing. But then she remembered these guys had joined in on the bride-snatching.

So she coughed twice and said to the guards, “If trouble arises in a moment, do your best to protect yourselves. There is no need to lay down your lives for This Prince.”

Xiao Jin naturally valued her own life above all else, but this time she was gambling. Any consequences would be hers to bear alone; she didn’t want anyone else caught up in it.

Even if these guards were merely 2D characters, they were still innocent. They didn’t need to fall here with her.

If calamity struck, they should flee, scattering to save themselves.

The guards exchanged glances, not quite grasping Xiao Jin’s words.

Seeing their bewildered, stunned faces, Xiao Jin decided to play the domineering CEO part. Emulating every overpowered protagonist in pseudo-historical fiction, she said mysteriously, “This is This Prince’s command.”

The moment she said it, the corner of her mouth twitched. She nearly lost control of her expression.

Truly, not just anyone could be a domineering CEO. Neither the cringe nor the words came easily to everyone.

However, in this absurdly tropey ancient world, although the guards were baffled, those domineering words seemed to command them.

In unison, the guards clasped their fists and shouted, “Yes!”

Xiao Jin nodded in satisfaction. When she lifted her head again, she met Chu Shao’s slightly questioning gaze.

Looking at Chu Shao, Xiao Jin suddenly realized she hadn’t told the female lead to flee if necessary.

Then she reconsidered: this chick had a few screws loose to begin with. No need to specifically warn her; she’d run on her own when the time came.

Noticing Chu Shao’s smile gradually fading, Xiao Jin knew the other didn’t understand this series of arrangements.

But the heavens’ secrets must not be divulged. Xiao Jin wasn’t about to explain.

Silence hung heavily in the air.

But Xiao Jin didn’t expect the silence to be shattered by a Wild Goose Feather Arrow.

“Whoosh—”

The sound of a feathered arrow tearing through the air was sharp and clear. The arrowhead glinted with silver light, aimed directly at Xiao Jin’s face, magnifying endlessly in her vision.

Instinctively, Xiao Jin drew her sword, trying to intercept the arrow.

But what she expected even less was that Chu Shao’s reaction was faster than hers.

Almost in an instant, Chu Shao twisted the wheelchair around with a bizarre posture.

In the end, the arrowhead embedded itself into the edge of the wheelchair.

Xiao Jin stared at the wooden splinters falling to the ground. Before she could even process the shock of Chu Shao’s martial prowess, a second arrow shot out from the grass.

It was then she understood. The system’s “emergency” was a ticking time bomb, and this bomb wasn’t pre-set on Vermilion Bird Street.

The assassins had been lurking in the shadows, tailing her the entire way.

She had been careless.

With no time to analyze the situation, the twelve manor guards had already drawn their swords. “Assassins! Protect His Highness!”

Xiao Jin: “…”

She felt this line was awfully familiar. She even began to suspect the mastermind might indeed be the Fourth Prince.

Just as the guards rushed toward the thicket, Xiao Jin raised her sword, slicing down several incoming arrows.

Lotus Street was located in a desolate wilderness, sparsely populated even at the best of times. Coupled with the darkening sky, it was indeed the perfect moment for an ambush.

What Xiao Jin hadn’t anticipated was the sheer number of assassins lurking in the shadows.

In the blink of an eye, twenty to thirty men in black swarmed out. Though their faces were hidden, it was clear they possessed high martial skill—and a good measure of tactical intelligence.

The men in black didn’t waste time on the guards. They merely wounded them to clear a path, then rushed straight toward Xiao Jin, swords aimed to stab.

Xiao Jin had only three guards left by her side, and she herself was crippled with illness, her legs useless.

If she used a sword in this state, she couldn’t hope to match the original owner’s true skill. Facing life and death, Xiao Jin chose to nock arrows and draw the bow, employing the original owner’s most proficient weapon.

Arrows flew like shooting stars. Three consecutive shots struck the sword-wielding men in black.

Unfortunately, these assassins were no ordinary fighters. Even though the arrows pierced with devastating force, only one man lost his life then and there.

The remaining dozen men in black advanced with long swords. Using a footwork technique Xiao Jin didn’t recognize, they swiftly encircled her wheelchair.

The clashing of blades was painfully grating.

Xiao Jin drew her sword again, parrying a strike from one man in black. As she blocked, she stared into his eyes, trying to see his face.

But a beat later, she was somewhat surprised.

The man in black averted his gaze. Furthermore, his next thrust lacked lethal intent; he didn’t seem to be using his full strength.

With these shadowy killers’ true abilities, slaying the leg-crippled original owner shouldn’t have been difficult.

This left only one possibility: the person behind this didn’t want her dead, but had other motives.

Xiao Jin caught onto this. She was about to tell the three remaining guards to stand down, but as soon as she turned her head, hot spraying blood blurred her vision.

A guard’s head rolled to her feet.

The face was young—a very junior soldier from the manor.

Immediately following, the other two guards collapsed. Fresh blood soaked into the muddy earth.

Xiao Jin’s stomach churned violently. A cold sensation washed over her. She couldn’t tell if it was sorrow or terror.

The men in black showed no reaction. One of them aimed a second slash at her.

Since Xiao Jin hadn’t yet recovered from the shock, by the time she raised her sword to block, the incoming blade cut deeply into her arm.

The sword edge sliced through flesh, a sharp burst of pain.

When Xiao Jin raised her sword to block the third strike, bearing the crushing force of the blade, she clenched her teeth and spoke to Chu Shao, who stood on the sidelines like a mere spectator:

“Princess Consort, don’t forget. You and This Prince still have an Alliance Vow.”

Xiao Jin knew Chu Shao was a madwoman, with no inherent obligation to save her. But to just stand there watching like a distant fire was deeply chilling.

Chu Shao’s lips still held a faint smile.

Blood splattered everywhere, but she simply stood and watched, somewhat entranced.

For a moment, she had almost forgotten she had an Alliance Vow with Xiao Jin.

Now, looking at the wounds on Xiao Jin’s body and the blood staining her robes, Chu Shao’s smile deepened at the corner of her mouth.

She hadn’t felt such joy in a long while. So she decided she would properly repay those men in black.

Xiao Jin knew the men in black wouldn’t kill her, but she didn’t want any more guards to lose their lives here. That was why she’d spoken up to Chu Shao.

Seeing Chu Shao stand there completely unmoved, she had almost given up hope on this person.

But the next moment, a slightly cool hand covered her knuckles.

That hand was soft and slender, like a new leaf sprouting in spring, gently swayed by the wind.

Xiao Jin looked up to meet Chu Shao’s smiling eyes. A ticklish sensation grazed her ear as a gentle voice drawled:

“Your Highness, may this humble consort borrow your sword?”

The words had barely faded when, before Xiao Jin could even loosen her grip, Chu Shao softly pried her fingers open and claimed the sword hilt.

Like a zither master plucking the first overtone, the resonant clash of a silver blade meeting another was undeniably crisp.

Long black hair fluttered past, brushing Xiao Jin’s eyes. Then, her eyes widened.

Chu Shao’s pristine robes were white as snow upon a mountain peak. Holding the silver sword, she wove through the men in black.

Her feet tapped the ground; each step she took was exceedingly gentle, like a pious shamaness praying. Amidst an accompanying grand ceremonial tune, she danced gracefully as fresh blood splattered.

Chu Shao wielded the sword with a feather-light force. The tip merely grazed past the enemies’ throats, leaving only a thin, deep-red bloodline.

Thud—

The heavy thud of men in black collapsing disrupted the rhythm of the dance.

A smile surfaced on Chu Shao’s lips. She didn’t mind this minor chaos. A little disorder, after all, added a unique spice to the entire performance.

The sword in her hand took lives with casual indifference. She idly admired the fine beads of blood welling up from the assassins’ throats.

Drops of blood fell like pearls and jade onto a plate, splashing onto the back of Chu Shao’s hand. The warmth made her hands tremble, and her sword strikes grew fiercer and faster.

When Chu Shao’s excitement reached its peak, she spun the silver sword and cleanly slit open an assassin’s throat.

She watched the dying man writhe and struggle on the ground, eyes wide open as he passed into the afterlife.

Observing all this, Chu Shao felt she was truly too merciful, allowing these people to find release and tread the path to the river of oblivion.

The living inevitably suffer torment, and death shall lead them to ultimate bliss.

This was her gift to them.

“And as for you…”

Chu Shao looked down with a smile at the man sprawled on the ground, whimpering in agony. She knew he was the one who had just wounded Xiao Jin—and the one who had pleased her most.

So she had merely severed his hands, wanting him to live a little longer.

“You have given me the most joy, so naturally, I won’t mistreat you. I will let you die slowly. By then, someone will be ahead to guide your way.”

Chu Shao crouched down, looking at the pale, blood-soaked face. She murmured softly, “Tell me, have I treated you best of all?”