Shopkeeper Du blurted out, "It's Chief Minister Yan!"
Qin Yiru's eyelids also twitched as he hurriedly blocked the carriage. "Oh no, the little lass's husband has come chasing after her!"
A group of riders stormed forward like a whirlwind. At the lead was Yan Zheng, still clad in his crimson wedding robes, but his eyes were as cold as eternal snow. A single icy glance sent shivers down the spines of Qin Yiru and Shopkeeper Du.
"Uh, the girl isn't in this carriage!" Qin Yiru said, then immediately regretted his words.
Hadn't he just confessed without being pressed?
Sure enough, Yan Zheng's expression darkened further. With a mere lift of his brow, he commanded, "Move!"
Qin Yiru trembled but held his ground—until Shopkeeper Du stepped in front of him, arms outstretched. "Chief Minister Yan! She doesn’t wish to see you!"
Yan Zheng’s sword-like brows knitted together. "This Chief Minister knows. But whether she sees me or not, she is my wife, Yan Zheng’s!" He raised his voice, calling out, "In life we share a bed, in death we share a grave. A-Yan, I’ve come to take you home!"
The wilderness was silent.
Inside the carriage, not a single sound could be heard.
The frost in Yan Zheng’s eyes deepened—until a mocking laugh came from another carriage. "You couldn’t even protect your own wife, yet you have the audacity to say you’ll take her home?"
The speaker, Yun Lang, emerged from the carriage.
Clad in red robes with silver-white hair, his narrow peach-blossom eyes brimmed with scorn.
Yan Zheng’s gaze turned glacial. "You abducted my wife. I haven’t even settled that score with you yet!"
"Ha! Instead of blaming yourself for failing to protect her, you vent your anger on others. Yan the Third, just as I predicted—sooner or later, you’d be the death of her. Congratulations, you’ve succeeded! Hahahaha!"
With every word Yun Lang spat, Yan Zheng’s expression darkened further.
By the end, his voice was a low, seething growl. "Where. Is. She?"
Yun Lang lazily arched a brow—a telltale sign to those who knew him that madness was about to erupt.
Qin Yiru hastily intervened, "Enough, enough! Talk this out properly. One is her husband, the other her elder brother—both care for her. Don’t actually come to blows!"
Yan Zheng had been about to sneer, but he froze. "What did you say? Who is her brother?"
Just then, the Duke of Chu's Mansion’s carriage arrived in haste.
Chu Huaishan stumbled out, nearly falling in his urgency. "Chief Minister Yan, have you found her?"
Yan Zheng’s gaze remained locked on Yun Lang, who, upon seeing Chu Huaishan, seemed to recall something and softened his mocking tone. "She’s in that carriage. Go. It’s your last chance to see her anyway..."
At the words "last chance," Chu Huaishan staggered, nearly collapsing.
Yan Zheng’s fingers dug into his palms, his eyes now fathomless as an abyss...
"My daughter—my Yan'er!" Chu Huaishan shook off Lady Jiang the Younger’s supporting arm and rushed toward the carriage.
Shopkeeper Du’s heart turned cold. Calculating the remaining moments, he stepped forward. "W-Wait!"
All eyes snapped to him. Chu Huaishan paled. "Has she... has she already gone?"
"Th-This..."
Shopkeeper Du stammered, while Yun Lang scanned the surroundings and barked, "Where’s Hongxiu?"
Terror flashed in Shopkeeper Du’s eyes. Qin Yiru gasped, "Oh no! That girl is also from the Western Frontier—she knows the 'Dream of the Butterfly' technique too!"
The moment the words left his mouth, Yan Zheng and Yun Lang moved simultaneously.
Two figures clashed midair, exchanging a single strike before landing on either side of the carriage.
"Good heavens, why are you two fighting at a time like this? If she succeeds, regret will be too late!" Qin Yiru tried to rush forward but was flung back by an unseen force.
Chu Huaishan roared in fury and attempted to charge, only for Shopkeeper Du to lock his arms around him from behind.
Yun Lang’s eyes burned with killing intent. "Get out here!!"
He slammed a palm against the carriage—
With a deafening crack, the compartment exploded into splinters.
Amid the settling dust, Hongxiu’s pallid face came into view. Her hands, crawling with venomous insects, were wrapped around Chu Ruoyan’s throat.
"Pavilion Master... Chief Minister Yan... Take one step closer, and I’ll end her life..."
"You dare?!" Yun Lang seethed, but his feet froze.
He couldn’t gamble with his sister’s life.
Yet Yan Zheng remained eerily calm. "Would you?"
Hongxiu’s eyes flickered with fear as his piercing gaze seemed to strip her soul bare. "If you wanted her dead, you wouldn’t have used forbidden arts to save her. I’ll give you one last chance—let her go."
Her teeth chattered as she counted down the final moments—five breaths left...
Just five more...
Five. Four. Three—
"Aaaah!!"
A bloodcurdling scream tore through the air as a flash of steel severed the tendons in her wrist!
Seizing the opening, Yun Lang lunged forward and swept his sister into his arms.
Hongxiu writhed in agony. "No! Two breaths left—just two!"
So close... so close!
Yan Zheng sheathed his sword but didn’t immediately check on Chu Ruoyan. Instead, he hauled Qin Yiru over. "Save her. Now."
Qin Yiru grimaced inwardly. In a situation like this, with her life force fading, what could he do?
At best, he could prevent her from becoming a mindless husk like the late princess consort...
But the moment his fingers touched her pulse, his eyes bulged.
"How... how is this possible?"
He switched wrists, his disbelief mounting. "The... the cold syndrome—it’s gone?"
Chu Huaishan and Lady Jiang the Younger, unaware of the implications, sighed in relief.
Yan Zheng and Yun Lang, however, tensed instantly.
"Hahaha! It worked—it worked!" Hongxiu crowed triumphantly. "Even missing those two breaths, it still succeeded!"
Then—the woman in Yun Lang’s arms stirred.
Her lashes fluttered before her eyes slowly opened...
Yan Zheng clenched his fists. Yun Lang’s heart leaped to his throat.
If their mother had been reduced to a hollow shell, would his sister suffer the same fate?
But the expected horror never came.
Instead, Chu Ruoyan blinked, her gaze settling on Yun Lang. "Pavilion Master..."
Yun Lang stiffened, whipping his head toward Qin Yiru.
His eyes screamed the unspoken question: How can she speak?!
Their mother, after undergoing the Dream of the Butterfly, had lost all ability to recognize people—let alone speak!
Qin Yiru, equally stunned, scrambled forward. "Hey, lass, do you recognize me?"
Chu Ruoyan nodded faintly. "Old Physician Qin..."
"And him?"
"Father."
"This one?"
"Aunt."
"My lady, what about me? Do you remember me?"
"Guard Meng."
...
She identified everyone—except Yan Zheng.
The man’s gaze darkened. Guard Meng quickly prompted, "My lady, what about him? Do you recognize this man?"
Chu Ruoyan’s eyes lingered for a moment before she softly murmured, "Husband."
"Praise the heavens! She’s unharmed! She’s fine!" Guard Meng nearly jumped for joy.
Qin Yiru stroked his beard in wonder. "Could it be that missing those last two breaths made the difference? But even so, the curse trades emotions and senses for life—she shouldn’t have kept her mind, nor should the cold syndrome be cured..."
"Oh, esteemed physician, as long as she's unharmed—that's all that matters!" Chu Huaishan exclaimed, unable to resist wiping the corner of his eye with his sleeve.
Heaven knew how terrified he had been on the way here, nearly scared out of his wits.
Thankfully, it was just a false alarm—a false alarm!
As everyone basked in relief, Yan Zheng's gaze remained fixed on her face. "What did you call me?"
"My husband!" The woman rose gracefully and stepped toward him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Aren’t you the Chief Minister of the court, the third son of the Yan family—my husband?"
Her voice was as gentle as ever, yet something about it felt... off.
Before Yan Zheng could respond, his usually reserved and demure Ayan reached out in front of everyone and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Husband, this woman hurt me. Will you kill her for me?"
