Chapter Sixty-Five: The Price of Exchange

Page after page, the road leading from the Prince of War’s residence curved right into a bustling, lively street, its crowds endless until, in a blink, the falling rain scattered them. Xuechun and Qingxia hurried along this street, seeking shelter from the rain when suddenly, with a loud crash, the noisy throng fell silent, all eyes turning to the deep red gates at the street’s end.

It was the direction of General Weishao’s manor.

Amid the patter of rain, the great gates of the general’s residence swung open.

Both Qingxia and Xuechun stared, dumbfounded, at the open gates, watching for a long moment before Xuechun grabbed Qingxia’s hand and dashed toward the Drunken Jade Pavilion. “Let’s find my lady…”

The spring drizzle still fell steadily; caring for nothing else, the two ran as fast as they could for the Drunken Jade Pavilion.

When they reached the door, they found the pavilion sealed. After much difficulty, they managed to spot a familiar covert guard who let them in. It was then that Qingxia and Xuechun saw Feng Jinye and Huangfu Chen locked in combat.

Xuechun stood stunned, but Qingxia wasted no time, heading straight for Yun Ming. “Your Highness Yun, where is my lady?”

Her question brought a hush over the entire pavilion. Chujiu looked at Qingxia and Xuechun in shock. “You… you weren’t with Her Ladyship?”

“Our lady sent us to Jiu Linglong to choose clothes for her. We were caught in the rain and saw the gates of General Weishao’s residence swing open…”

Upon hearing this, Feng Jinye, Yun Ming, and Huangfu Chen all froze for a moment. The next instant, Feng Jinye took the lead and strode swiftly toward the general’s residence.

In Yue City, that day felt like the calm before a storm. Not long after the midday meal, all city gates were sealed. The drizzle seemed to settle a heavy gloom over the city that would not lift.

Outside Yue City, in a small bamboo grove, Weishao Qianyu gazed out the window at the fresh, rain-washed world. The bamboo glistened, scrubbed clean by the showers.

Half an hour earlier, Qianyu had narrowly escaped being disfigured and was now teaching Meiji how to apply makeup.

The vanity was crowded with little porcelain jars of cosmetics. Qianyu spoke softly, “Sister, look, if you use this darker powder here, your nose will look completely different…”

She lowered her posture, mimicking Mianyin’s gentle voice to soften Meiji’s heart. “I always get into fights and wield blades. If I’m not careful and crooked my nose, wouldn’t that ruin your masterpiece…”

“Sister, have you heard the saying, ‘Beautiful faces are a dime a dozen, but an interesting soul is one in a million’…” Qianyu watched Meiji’s expression closely.

Meiji seemed slightly displeased. Qianyu hurriedly added, “I like you just the way you are: cool and valiant, fierce and unrestrained…”

Though Meiji’s face remained impassive, Qianyu’s constant cries of “sister” left her with a faint sense of loss.

Qianyu feigned calm, but inside, anxiety churned. Her gaze flicked often to Dongnuan, who lay nearby.

Dongnuan lay perfectly still, her eyes bandaged in white cloth. Qianyu could see dried blood seeping through.

Qianyu guessed that Meiji, not wanting her presence discovered, had gouged out Dongnuan’s eyes to prevent her from leaving clues or calling for help.

“Sister, I’m a little scared. Will my maid die?” Qianyu asked softly, fury burning beneath her words.

Meiji glanced at her but said nothing, turning to leave the bamboo hut.

Qianyu patted her chest and took a deep breath to calm herself, then hurried to check Dongnuan’s wounds.

She carried Dongnuan to the bed, but the effort pulled at the wound on her left arm. Glancing down, she was surprised to find that her injury had been treated. Qianyu pondered this, looking out the door.

Aside from her eyes, Dongnuan had no other serious harm. After settling Dongnuan, Qianyu went out in search of Meiji.

From a distance, she saw Meiji building a small stone hearth and cooking porridge over the fire.

Once more, Qianyu surveyed the bamboo grove. Everything about this place spoke of a hermit’s tranquil life, not the lair of an assassin.

Qianyu approached Meiji and glanced at the pot of plain porridge. “Sister, this looks so unappetizing. You need to add mushrooms and chicken…”

“As long as it keeps us from starving, taste doesn’t matter,” Meiji replied drily.

Thinking of how Meiji treated her wound, Qianyu felt less afraid. “Sister, are you looking for a partner? Or a little sister?”

Meiji paused, holding a twig over the fire, and fixed her with a steady gaze.

Qianyu shivered under her stare and hurried on, “I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just volunteering—either as your partner or your sister!”

“It’s just… could you let me go home? If you want a sister, or need to teach someone throwing knives or curved blades, you can come to the Prince of War’s residence. After all, a girl can’t stay unmarried forever!”

Meiji stood up solemnly, ignoring Qianyu, and headed into the grove. In less than a quarter of an hour, she returned with two wild pheasants.

Seeing this, Qianyu eagerly volunteered to gather mushrooms from the bamboo grove.

After last night’s rain, fresh bamboo shoots dotted the ground. Qianyu, her appetite piqued, wondered if she could substitute bamboo shoots for mushrooms in the chicken porridge. She knelt to dig them up, thinking that Dongnuan needed proper food to recover so they could escape.

With a small bundle of shoots, Qianyu turned—only to realize, dismayed, that she was lost.

Meiji had let Qianyu run off without protest, knowing the girl was only pretending to play along and would not abandon Dongnuan. However, Meiji had overestimated her sense of direction. Qianyu was hopelessly lost even before reaching the maze-like part of the grove. Finding her, Meiji paused, gazing at the pitiful sight of Qianyu clutching her bamboo shoots, and for a moment, she remembered Mianyin.

Meanwhile, Feng Jinye and his companions hurried to the general’s residence.

Crowds surrounded the gates. The Prince of War, leading his men, arrived in haste, and the townsfolk parted to let them through.

All eyes shifted from the Weishao family to the three men at the forefront.

“That’s the Prince of War!”

“The young lord of the House of Marquis Xi, no, the Prince Yun!”

“And the other is the heir to the House of Marquis Qin, isn’t he?”

They stopped at the gates. As the porter ushered them inside, the clatter of horses’ hooves sounded from behind.

An imperial edict had arrived.

Feng Jinye, Yun Ming, and Huangfu Chen all frowned. The Empress Dowager moved swiftly—the general’s gates had barely been open an hour and already the edict had come, though Qianyu was no longer there.

Truly, when the righteous build a wall, the cunning dig a tunnel.

“Hear the decree: Upon learning that the eldest daughter of General Weishao is of noble character and appearance, and since Prince Yun is of an age to marry, the Emperor grants her to Prince Yun as his principal wife.”

The court attendant finished reading, looking over the kneeling crowd, but found no sign of Qianyu.

Feng Jinye stood, cold and intimidating, his eyes almost lethal.

After a long silence, a woman in pale robes stepped forward, bowing before the attendant. “Weishao Qian…”

Before she could finish, Feng Jinye turned, his icy glare silencing her. She swallowed her words.

He reached out, took the edict, and slowly drew the sword from Night Eleven’s side. With one stroke, he slew the woman who had dared to impersonate Qianyu.

Yun Ming and Huangfu Chen stared at him in disbelief. Feng Jinye exuded a chilling aura as he turned to the court attendant and uttered a single word, cold as death: “Leave.”

The attendants mounted their horses and fled in panic. The crowd broke into an uproar—the Prince of War had killed the general’s daughter!

Yun Ming was astonished, unsure what to make of Feng Jinye’s actions. Huangfu Chen, too, looked at him thoughtfully.

Aunt Weishao rose suddenly and asked Feng Jinye, “Where is Qianyu?”

Originally, Qianyu and her aunt had planned to return home that day, expecting the imperial marriage edict. Yet, at the appointed time, Qianyu did not appear, and as the edict was delivered, a pretender emerged to accept it. The Empress Dowager was determined to force this match.

Yun Ming suddenly realized that the reason Feng Jinye had smashed a wine jar at Huangfu Chen’s feet in the Drunken Jade Pavilion was almost certainly because Huangfu Chen mentioned Qianyu’s name.

This jealous man would never allow another to be betrothed to her. The Empress Dowager must have truly driven him to the brink this time.

As Yun Ming pondered this, Feng Jinye’s murderous gaze abruptly fell upon him.

Back in the bamboo grove, Qianyu was by the fire, sharpening bamboo sticks with a dagger. She skewered the shoots and roasted them, but despite her patience, every batch ended up burnt.

Inside the bamboo hut, Dongnuan slowly woke, her thoughts drifting back to being taken away by Meiji. Dongnuan sprang up, tearing the cloth from her eyes, pain stabbing her sockets.

Hearing the commotion, Qianyu rushed in. Seeing Dongnuan reaching to rub her eyes, she stopped her. “Don’t…”

Her heart ached. Thinking of Dongnuan’s eyes, tears and hatred for Meiji rose within her. “Your eyes are hurt; just lie down. I’ll get you a bowl of porridge.”

“I’d better go…” Dongnuan replied.

Qianyu watched as Dongnuan got to her feet, not at all like someone newly blinded, and gazed intently at her eyes…

“A killer thought her eyes were too small, so I gave her a double eyelid and widened the corners,” came a chilling voice.

Meiji leaned against the doorframe, reading Qianyu’s hatred as clearly as daylight.

“If you can walk out of this grove, then go!” Meiji cast Qianyu a cold glance.

Suddenly Qianyu understood—Meiji had taken her only to buy time. What was happening outside? Was Feng Jinye frantic? Now that the general’s gates had reopened, would something unexpected occur?

Recalling the day’s interactions, Qianyu realized Meiji had not treated her so badly after all.

She looked at Meiji, sensing a touch of loneliness in her figure—a cold-blooded killer who might not be so cold after all.

Meiji, as if aware of Qianyu’s gaze, said coldly, “I won’t kill you. It’s the rule of Twilight Pavilion—you cannot be harmed. Don’t overthink it!”

Qianyu was startled. Meiji was revealing information about Twilight Pavilion.

“Um, could I ask about the antidote?” Qianyu dared ask.

Meiji laughed. “Antidotes from Twilight Pavilion always come at a price. What do you have to trade?”

“I could be your sister? Or your partner?” Qianyu replied. “But I can’t just kill people. I could practice throwing knives with you, or pick mushrooms for you!”

She paused, focusing on the word “price.”

Looking straight at Meiji, she realized—every antidote from Twilight Pavilion comes at a cost, and she, Weishao Qianyu, is the price the Empress Dowager intends to pay for the antidote!

The Empress Dowager was in league with Twilight Pavilion!