Chapter 9

Inside the half-open wooden door, it was even more tranquil than outside. Ancient pines and ginkgo trees stood in the courtyard, their pine needles abundant and ginkgo leaves a vibrant green, as if this were a secluded paradise beyond the mundane world.

Lan Yi slowed her steps. She had pushed herself to come this far and was utterly exhausted, but the rustling of pine needles and ginkgo leaves in the mountain breeze carried a faintly bitter fragrance that lightened her spirit, as if all her sorrows and resentments had been swept away by the wind.

This was indeed an excellent place for quiet cultivation.

Prince Yi’s whereabouts were easy to find. A glance revealed that the largest Secluded Chamber in the center was likely his. From within, there came a dull thud, as if something had fallen.

The door to the Secluded Chamber was closed, made of bamboo. When her fingers touched it, she felt a cool, smooth texture. Lan Yi hesitated, considering whether to knock. Then it occurred to her—since she had come here to offend Prince Yi, why bother with courtesy from the start? She might as well begin with insolence.

Steeling herself, she removed her veil hat and pushed the door without hesitation.

The door had seemed firmly shut, and she hadn’t expected it to open. Her intention was merely to make a disrespectful noise. Yet, the moment she exerted force, an equal strength from inside abruptly yanked the door open. Unable to stop her momentum, Lan Yi stumbled forward and collided with a solid, warm chest.

“……”

Lan Yi froze. This was not the kind of disrespect she had intended.

She hurriedly tried to retreat, but her wrist was seized by a slender, well-defined hand. A cold, furious demand struck her like a blow: “Who are you?”

His grip was crushing, as if he meant to shatter her bones. The pain made her vision blur, and she couldn’t speak: “……”

“Who sent you here?”

The second demand followed swiftly. Amid the agony, Lan Yi recalled Zhengyuan Daoshi’s words—”When he is not angered, all is well; but once angered, it is like thunder.” How fitting they were now.

Struggling to focus, she lifted her head and saw only the sharp line of the man’s jaw. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, his Adam’s apple moved slightly: “Scheming wretch. Get out.”

Without giving her a chance to explain, he flung her outward.

Lan Yi was no match for his strength. She tumbled down the steps, barely managing to half-rise on instinct, her head ringing. She had known rumors couldn’t be fully trusted, but she hadn’t expected them to be entirely false. Where was the gentle, detached cultivator? There was no trace of such a man here!

Though she had come to provoke him, she hadn’t even done anything yet. Merely appearing at his door had been enough to incite his violence. In a way, she had already succeeded beyond expectation.

No—there was still one step left. At the very least, she had to leave her name and origin.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she looked up at the steps—

And froze again.

The man who had thrown her down was now kneeling by the doorway, his head bowed low. One hand clutched the doorframe, the other pressed against the ground, veins bulging on the back of his hand as if he were struggling to endure something.

…Was he ill? Had some ailment suddenly struck him?

Lan Yi, being a long-time patient herself, naturally thought in this direction. If Prince Yi had been in the throes of illness when she barged in, no wonder he had been furious. Those suffering from illness often had short tempers.

She hesitated. On one hand, she couldn’t simply leave someone in distress. On the other, her presence here wouldn’t go unnoticed. If something happened and an investigation followed, she would have no way to explain herself.

She propped herself up and slowly walked back. “Your Highness, are you ill and in need of medicine? Where is it kept? I’ll fetch it for you.”

She approached cautiously. The encounter had been too abrupt—she hadn’t even had a chance to properly see Prince Yi’s face yet.

Had she seen it earlier, she would have realized something was wrong and wouldn’t have come closer.

The man slowly raised his head.

It was the same face she had seen at the city gates, yet somehow different. At this close distance, his eye sockets appeared deep-set, his nose still high and straight, but his brows and eyes were now tinged with ferocity, the usual aloofness completely gone. His lips were pressed tightly together, his face flushed with an unnatural redness, beads of sweat rolling down his temples, even dampening the hair at his temples.

“…”

Lan Yi’s first instinct was wariness, but it was already too late.

The man reached out to her, this time gripping her slender shoulder firmly, his voice hoarse as he spat out a single word: “Leave.”

Lan Yi very much wanted to obey and leave immediately, but she couldn’t move.

Because the man didn’t let go.

His brows furrowed tightly, his eyes filled with struggle, the hand gripping Lan Yi trembling slightly.

Not daring to delay, Lan Yi tried to pull away and escape.

But her movement only made him tighten his grip. Originally kneeling, with Lan Yi half-bent over, their postures were unstable. In their struggle, somehow, they both tumbled inward through the doorway. Lan Yi’s foot struck the threshold, the pain making her vision darken again.

When her sight returned, the light didn’t come with it—Prince Yi had pressed forward, his solid frame blocking the daylight from outside and cutting off Lan Yi’s escape route.

“Who sent you?” he asked again, his voice even hoarser. As he spoke, a drop of sweat fell straight from his temple onto Lan Yi’s cheek.

He still had some rationality left; she still had a chance. Suppressing the panic threatening to overwhelm her, Lan Yi hurriedly said, “I—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Prince Yi cut her off, his fingers pressing against her cheek, wiping away the sweat with slight pressure. The last trace of clarity in his eyes faded, replaced by bloodshot intensity before his face descended toward hers.

“Mmph…!”

Lan Yi, already aching from the fall, now felt the pain spread to her lips. Whether a moment or several had passed, she finally snapped out of her frozen fear.

Had she been a sheltered woman who rarely stepped outside her home, she might not have found the courage to resist. But she wasn’t.

What did it matter if he was a prince…

What did his noble status matter—

He was just a lecherous scoundrel with a death wish!

What did she have to fear from him!

Since Lan Yi hadn’t moved for a while, the man’s grip loosened slightly. She heard him murmur in the pause, half-mocking, half-satisfied: “You know how to pick…”

Lan Yi ignored his words. Her free hand groped blindly on the floor until she found a ceramic incense burner—the dull thud she’d heard before pushing the door open must have been this very object rolling off the table. The ashes had spilled everywhere, but the sturdy burner remained intact. Summoning all her strength, Lan Yi lifted it and brought it down hard on the back of his head!

*Thud!*

Prince Yi jerked his head up, his gaze clearing momentarily in the haze, sharp as a blade as it bore down on her.

Lan Yi shrank back in fear, then clenched her teeth, tasting the metallic tang of blood at the corner of her mouth. With a swift motion, she raised the incense burner and brought it down—thud—another heavy blow.

……

With great effort, Lan Yi pushed the unconscious Prince Yi off her. In her haste, she noticed blood seeping from the back of his head. Her heart lurched, but she dared not look further. Staggering out the door, she picked up the veil hat she had discarded earlier, hastily put it on, and with trembling hands, straightened her dress before stumbling forward.

She desperately wanted to move faster, but her strength was nearly spent from the violent struggle. The short distance to find Sister-in-law Ji outside the gate almost proved too much for her.

“You’re out? Did you see His Highness?” Sister-in-law Ji emerged from behind a tree, eagerly stepping forward.

Lan Yi steadied herself with Sister-in-law Ji’s help, her voice weak. “We must go. Now.”

“Go where?” Sister-in-law Ji was utterly confused. “Did you speak to the prince? Did you settle our family’s matter—”

“I angered him,” Lan Yi said. “If we don’t leave now, we may never get the chance.”

Sister-in-law Ji shuddered. “What do you mean?”

Her feet instinctively followed Lan Yi’s lead, but her words tumbled out in rapid succession. “How could you have angered the prince? Everyone in the city says he’s a good man. Zhengyuan Daoshi also said the worst he’d do is chase us away. Surely there wouldn’t be any other punishment—we’re not assassins! Good heavens, you must explain, Lan Yi! We can’t have come all this way for nothing. The family spent no small sum on this. How will I explain this to Father-in-law? He was already furious before—now none of us will have peace—”

Her steps slowed as she spoke, and Lan Yi could no longer pull her along. Turning back, Lan Yi said coldly, “Just assume I attempted to assassinate the prince. Are you coming or not?”

“…!” Sister-in-law Ji’s eyes widened in shock. Finally, she noticed something amiss with Lan Yi. “Your clothes—why are they so disheveled?”

Lan Yi had tried to straighten them, but it had been too rushed. Worse, the fabric near her neckline had been torn, leaving a gap that no amount of adjusting could conceal.

A dreadful suspicion rose in Sister-in-law Ji’s mind. She reached to lift Lan Yi’s veil, but Lan Yi stepped back, avoiding her touch. “Sister-in-law, if you don’t leave now, you’ll be arrested as an accomplice.”

“You—you—!” Sister-in-law Ji’s finger trembled as she pointed at Lan Yi, her usual eloquence failing her. She realized Lan Yi might have done something unthinkable. The consequences of offending a noble of Prince Yi’s stature were beyond her full comprehension, but terror seeped into her bones. “Lan Yi, are you trying to get us all killed?”

With a stomp of her foot, she dared not delay any longer. Grabbing Lan Yi’s arm, she and the maid hurriedly dragged her into a run.

The rehearsal at the Ritual Venue in the front courtyard was still ongoing, allowing them to exit the temple without much trouble. But as they neared the mountain gate, Lan Yi stopped.

Sister-in-law Ji, sweating profusely from panic, snapped, “What now? If you won’t go, I will!”

Lan Yi gasped for breath, her vision darkening at the edges. Her body had reached its limit—she could collapse at any moment—yet her mind remained eerily clear. “Go without me.”

“And what about you?!”

“I can’t leave.” Lan Yi’s voice was barely a whisper. “I must go back to warn them. If Prince Yi dies, you’ll all be executed.”

Would assassinating a prince warrant extermination of three generations? Or nine?

Though she had never intended this outcome, imperial justice knew no mercy. And in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to be so heartless.

“Go back—do you still have a life to return to?” Sister-in-law Ji asked in a trembling voice.  

Lan Yi didn’t answer, only waved at her, urging her to leave quickly.  

Then she turned around and slowly took a step forward, back the way she had come.  

She had never planned to escape.  

Dying in this life amidst the beautiful mountain scenery was far better than on a dim, narrow sickbed.  

If Prince Yi killed her, at least he wouldn’t force her son to become Yang Wen Xu’s disciple anymore.  

In a way, she had gotten her wish.  

Sister-in-law Ji stood frozen, watching Lan Yi’s frail figure—so thin it seemed a gust of wind could carry her away—move forward step by step. She let out a sigh, then finally turned and ran in the opposite direction.  

She found the sedan chair carriers and had just boarded the sedan when, not far into the journey, she heard deep, resonant bell tolls suddenly ring out from the Taoist monastery above. Nine strikes in total.  

Sister-in-law Ji thought to herself, *What kind of bell toll is this, ringing at such an odd time? And so many strikes too.*  

She didn’t understand, but an inexplicable fear gripped her. She lifted the sedan curtain and urged the carriers to hurry down the mountain.  

…  

Lan Yi stopped at the edge of the square.  

She watched as the Taoist priests in the square suddenly dropped the magical artifacts in their hands. Some grabbed long swords, others picked up staffs, dispersing in all directions with fluid, practiced movements. A deep, commanding voice echoed through the ranks:  

“Under attack! Seal the monastery! Seal the mountain!”  

Lan Yi stood quietly, a sense of resignation washing over her. *No wonder Prince Yi didn’t bring guards into the monastery—every Taoist priest here could become his protector.*  

She had truly picked the perfect moment to come.