Chu Ruoyan and Yan Zheng exchanged a glance before she asked with a light laugh, "Then, may I ask where Advisor Song intends to take this county princess?"
Song Jia stroked his beard. "There’s no need for the county princess to pry, Your Highness. You’ll know once we arrive. As for the Chief Minister, rest assured—the county princess is an honored guest of my master. She will be treated with the utmost respect, never slighted."
"Oh? Is this honored guest her... or Lord Yun Lang?"
The seemingly casual question made Song Jia’s pupils constrict sharply. "It seems the Chief Minister knows quite a lot. In that case, I must reconsider whether to leave you here with your father and brother... or take you back for my master to decide your fate."
As he spoke, a thoughtful expression crossed his face. Yan Zheng, however, remained composed and raised his voice. "Hear that? They’re here for you."
No sooner had he spoken than several figures emerged from the forest behind them.
At their head was a man in red robes with silver-white hair, wielding a golden folding fan—none other than Yun Lang himself.
Song Jia’s face paled. "Pavilion Master Yun, what are you doing here?"
Yun Lang lazily fanned himself, his eyes half-lidded with sleepiness. "Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? Ruining everyone’s New Year festivities—forcing me to sacrifice my precious beauty sleep just to deal with you."
With a snap of his fan, Shopkeeper Du and his men swiftly surrounded the area, sealing off all escape routes.
Realization dawned on Song Jia as he glanced between Yun Lang and Yan Zheng. "You planned this?"
Yan Zheng wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist. "More like... the willing prey took the bait."
Boom! Thud!
The two sides clashed instantly, but it was clear Song Jia’s men were no match for the Hundred Knowledge Pavilion’s forces.
Within moments, all but Song Jia lay defeated on the ground.
"Song, care to talk now?" Yun Lang yawned, looking thoroughly bored.
Song Jia glared at him, his expression dark. "Pavilion Master Yun, have you forgotten who stormed the capital and destroyed the Great Sheng when you allied with the Yan family?"
Yun Lang scoffed. "So what if it was Yan Xu? What does the fall of Great Sheng have to do with me?"
"You are a descendant of the Yun clan—the Regent King’s second son! How can you say it has nothing to do with you?!" Song Jia roared in fury.
Yun Lang’s smile turned icy. "Don’t mention him in front of me. Don’t you know my rule? Those who bring him up lose their tongues."
With a flick of his wrist, a gust of wind from his fan sent Song Jia stumbling back, coughing up blood.
"Elder Qinglong!"
"Elder Qinglong, run!"
The fallen black-clad men struggled to rise, but Yun Lang kicked them aside.
Dressed in crimson as vivid as blood, his lips curled in amusement while his eyes remained frigid. "Out of respect for your master’s shared surname, I’ll say this one last time: I have no interest in your ‘grand restoration.’ Do as you please—but if you dare scheme against me, or her—"
He pointed his fan at Chu Ruoyan, his voice deceptively gentle yet laced with menace. "I’ll make you regret ever being born."
Crack!
His foot came down, crushing a man’s neck beneath his heel.
Silence fell. Even Song Jia, who prided himself on his cunning, trembled in fear.
Just as his master had warned—Yun Lang was a madman! Arrogant, capricious, and utterly indifferent to vengeance or legacy!
"Alright, enough talk. You may leave."
Yun Lang waved dismissively. Song Jia turned to go.
His surviving followers scrambled to follow, but—whoosh!—a barrage of abacus beads shot through the air.
Yan Zheng shielded Chu Ruoyan’s eyes.
"Didn’t I say only you could leave? Can’t you understand plain speech?" Yun Lang sighed in mock disappointment before adding cheerfully, "Oh, and give your master my regards~"
Song Jia shuddered, finally understanding why his master had repeatedly warned him never to provoke this man.
More than a madman—he was a force of chaos, armed with the power to overturn the world on a whim.
On the journey back, the once-ruthless Pavilion Master now lounged lazily on a divan, fighting off sleep.
Chu Ruoyan pressed her lips together. "Thank you for your assistance today, Pavilion Master..."
He cut her off. "No need. With Yan Zheng here, those small fries were nothing. If anything, I should thank him—without his tip-off, I’d have walked right into their trap."
Song Jia’s abduction plot was a ruse; their real goal was to force Yun Lang into an alliance. Had they succeeded, the Hundred Knowledge Pavilion would’ve been at their mercy.
A glint flashed in Yun Lang’s eyes. Yan Zheng spoke up, "A mere ‘thank you’ hardly suffices for someone of your stature."
"Oh? Then how would you like me to repay you?"
"Simple—the identity of Song Jia’s master."
Yun Lang fell silent, his gaze piercing. Yan Zheng met it unflinchingly.
Chu Ruoyan quickly stepped between them. "Pavilion Master, what Yan Zheng means is—we can’t guard against endless schemes if we don’t know who’s behind them."
After a long pause, Yun Lang relented. "Fine. You’d find out eventually anyway. The one pulling Song Jia’s strings is Prince Jin’s faction."
"Prince Jin? But he’s dead!"
Emperor Yunning had died heirless, leaving two brothers: the infamous Regent King and the defeated Prince Jin. Both were said to have perished shortly after the emperor’s death—yet now, it seemed otherwise.
Chu Ruoyan frowned. Yan Zheng’s eyes gleamed with understanding. "As I thought. Aside from your line, Prince Jin’s descendants also survived."
Yun Lang nodded. "Correct. Prince Jin was exiled to guard the imperial mausoleum by that man, which ironically saved him—only for the Murong Family to hunt him down later. But his sole heir, my cousin, escaped and rallied remnants of the old dynasty to restore our house... He approached me before, but I wanted no part of it."
He tossed a small vial to Yan Zheng. "Here—the ‘Qianji Powder’ you were poisoned with. An imperial secret. Likely my cousin’s doing, meant to kill you during An Sheng’s coup and cripple Murong Feng’s right hand."
Yan Zheng studied the vial intently. Chu Ruoyan produced an object from her sleeve. "Then what of this sword?"
Thin as cicada wings, cold as death itself.
Yun Lang’s face darkened at first glance. "Frostblade—that man’s personal weapon!"
(The "that man" being the Regent King.)
Chu Ruoyan’s eyes widened in realization. "No wonder Song Jia halted his attack and even helped eliminate our pursuers when he saw it! He must’ve thought I was connected to the former dynasty—perhaps even the Regent King’s kin!"
Yan Zheng and Yun Lang shared a silent look.
With a bitter smile, Chu Ruoyan whispered, "Don’t tell me I truly am... a descendant of the fallen imperial house? The Regent King’s bloodline?"
The truth could no longer be avoided.
At Yan Zheng’s nod, Yun Lang rose and knelt before her. "Little Blind One, remember when I told you... I once had a sister?"
