Shangguan Huanxi casually tossed her bow and arrows to Jia Yi and stepped forward.
Zhou Xian quickly shielded Luo Qiaoqiao and her child behind him. "Zhou Xian greets Lady Shangguan. May I ask why you’ve come here from Canghaizhou’s estate?"
"The city was stifling. I heard there were evil spirits lurking here, so I came to join the excitement."
What a coincidence.
Zhou Xian glanced subtly at the corpse of the inn attendant on the ground. He had originally planned to keep the man alive to interrogate him about the other black-clad figure Yu Sanniang had been protecting. But now, with the attendant shot dead by an arrow, all leads had been severed.
Before dying, the attendant seemed to have said something while looking at Shangguan Huanxi?
Shangguan Huanxi didn’t spare a glance at Luo Qiaoqiao and her child behind Zhou Xian. Instead, she swept her gaze over the assembled crowd.
The others regarded her with varying degrees of curiosity.
Black Goose and White Dove studied her with probing eyes.
Murong Meifei ran a hand over the hilt of her sword. Rumor had it Shangguan Huanxi had earned the title of the world’s greatest swordsman at a young age. If given the chance, she’d love to test her skills against her.
Su Lingxi straightened up abruptly, her eyes gleaming with an odd light.
Among the three Knife brothers, Heart Knife flicked open his fan, flashing what he believed to be a dashing smile.
He was a notorious heartthrob—even the so-called "venomous woman" Shangguan Huanxi wouldn’t be immune to his charms.
Shangguan Huanxi: "Pathetic."
Heart Knife’s smile froze.
Shangguan Huanxi’s gaze passed over Sang Duo and Cang Yan, lingering slightly longer on the latter, before settling on the innocently unassuming Ninth and Chu'he.
She remarked, "Dealing with a mere evil spirit, yet making such a grand spectacle of it—and still ending up battered and bruised. To think so many of you couldn’t handle a wild creature that crawled out of the mountains."
"If I hadn’t arrived today, you’d have let another one escape."
"Wenren Buxiao has only been the zhou lord for a year, and already his subordinates are regressing. Useless fools. How laughable."
Zhou Xian’s men bristled with indignation, and even Zhou Xian’s expression darkened. He shook his head, signaling his men to stay calm.
Ever since the incident between Wenren Buxiao and Luo Qiaoqiao, Shangguan Huanxi was no longer the proud, untouchable figure she once was.
Her heart had been twisted by jealousy and resentment, leaving her sharp-tongued and bitter toward everything.
Shangguan Huanxi hated Luo Qiaoqiao—and she hated Wenren Buxiao just as much.
That arrow earlier? She had genuinely intended to kill the child.
Luo Qiaoqiao knew she owed Shangguan Huanxi, so no matter how harshly she was treated, she bore it without complaint. Even when her child had nearly been killed, she could only grit her teeth and endure.
"So this is the infamous Shangguan Huanxi," Chu'he murmured, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
She had helped Luo Qiaoqiao before, but only because the mother and child were key figures in the unfolding events. As for the tangled web between Shangguan Huanxi, Luo Qiaoqiao, and Wenren Buxiao, she neither judged nor interfered.
But truthfully, Chu'he was far more intrigued by the woman shrouded in rumors. "They say she was once the world’s greatest swordsman, but after her flawless mental state shattered, she couldn’t even lift a sword anymore."
Ninth glanced at Shangguan Huanxi. She was sharp—her eyes snapped to his the moment he looked.
He averted his gaze, fingers idly combing through Chu'he’s soft black hair as he chuckled, low and meaningful. "A shattered mental state, hm?"
Chu'he studied Shangguan Huanxi’s haughty demeanor, then Luo Qiaoqiao’s fragile helplessness behind her protectors, and pursed her lips.
Then she turned to the boy braiding her hair and asked in a small voice, "Ninth, would you ever stop liking me and marry someone else?"
"Never," he answered without hesitation, his hands never pausing.
Chu'he frowned. "You answered too fast! You didn’t even think about it!"
Ninth paused. "Should I answer again?"
Chu'he repeated, "Would you ever stop liking me and fall for someone else?"
He pondered for a long moment. "I only like Chu'he. No one else."
Chu'he: "You took so long to answer! Were you trying to figure out how to lie to me?"
Ninth: "…"
Chu'he: "Why aren’t you saying anything? You’re usually so talkative!"
For the first time in his life, Ninth felt the suffocating weight of being trapped between a rock and a hard place.
Chu'he "hmph"-ed and turned away, her little braid whipping against his face.
A small green snake peeked out, its eyes fixed on Ninth as if reveling in his misery.
Ninth’s expression darkened—just in time to witness another couple’s quarrel nearby.
White Dove demanded, "Do all men dream of having their cake and eating it too? A partner who fights beside them and another who dotes on them?"
Black Goose: "No! Of course not!"
"No?" White Dove yanked his ear. "Then why were you staring at that Miao girl earlier?"
At the mention of the Miao girl, Sang Duo glanced over and deliberately batted her lashes.
White Dove’s grip tightened.
Black Goose yelped in pain, his eyes landing on Chu'he slapping Ninth’s hand away.
The slap was louder than intended, and even Chu'he seemed startled by the sound.
But Ninth only blinked and asked tenderly, "Chu'he, does your hand hurt?"
Chu'he’s breath hitched. She turned her face away, fingers clutching her robe.
Then Black Goose and Ninth locked eyes.
In that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between the two men.
—Why are they angry?
—We’re innocent! Those two-timing men who marry multiple wives deserve to rot!
Ninth tilted his head, his gaze once again reflecting the blissful ignorance of the unenlightened.
Just then, more black-armored guards arrived.
One whispered to Jia Yi, "Sir, the zhou lord is here."
Jia Yi instinctively looked toward Shangguan Huanxi.
But she was already striding away. She mounted a horse in one fluid motion, snapped the reins, and galloped off without a backward glance.
As always, she couldn’t bear to lay eyes on Wenren Buxiao.
Su Lingxi bolted after her, only to be caught by the guard Wuya.
Zhou Xian clasped his hands toward the group. "Since you’re all heading to Canghaizhou, why not accompany us into the city? You’ve all suffered injuries aiding us. The estate will provide a place for you to recuperate, and the zhou lord will surely host a banquet to express his gratitude."
Given the circumstances, traveling with Zhou Xian was the most practical choice.
No one refused.
Luo Qiaoqiao and her child were escorted into the foremost carriage. Spotting the young man inside, she sat stiffly to the side. After a long hesitation, she finally spoke:
"Lady Shangguan came by not long ago."
"I know," he replied.
The child in her arms began fussing softly. The young man took the boy and playfully coaxed him into laughter—ignoring the bloody scratch on the child’s face.
Luo Qiaoqiao glanced up several times before finally unable to hold back, whispering, "If the young lady's arrow had been just an inch off when she shot that evil creature..."
"What's there to worry about?" The young man chuckled. "Yan'er isn't dead yet, is she?"
Luo Qiaoqiao felt a chill run down her spine. Seeing the gentle expression on the young man's face, she lost the courage to speak again.
At the very end of the Black Armor Guards' procession, a carriage moved forward slowly.
The little green snake had struck up a friendly relationship with the horse. Driving the carriage was something it had mastered quite well, swaying its head and murmuring to the horse about its master's embarrassing blunders that had upset the mistress.
Chu'he lay curled up inside the carriage, buried in soft cushions, her face covered by her hands, motionless.
The young man lowered himself, bending down to peer through her fingers in hopes of catching a glimpse of the girl he adored. But she held her hands too tightly—he couldn't see a thing.
His rosy eyes glistened with mist as he reached out a finger, cautiously poking the back of her hand.
"Chu'he."
"Sweet Chu'he."
"Don't ignore me."
He murmured for a long while, then, recalling how beasts in the Poison Mist Forest nuzzled each other affectionately when he was a child, he pressed his face against hers, rubbing gently.
"It's my fault. I was wrong."
"Don't be mad at me."
"Okay?"
His voice was soft and coaxing, the kind that could wear down even the most stubborn resistance.
After what felt like an eternity, Chu'he finally stirred.
Her fingers parted slightly, revealing dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"Ninth didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my fault," she muttered, her voice muffled.
Ninth tilted his head slightly.
Chu'he pressed her lips together and turned her back to him. "I'm mad at myself!"
"Why?" Ninth draped himself over her, nestling close, his arms wrapping around her naturally as he gazed at her with tender devotion.
"Ninth didn’t do anything wrong, but I took my anger out on him. I even... I even hit you!"
She was referring to earlier, when she had slapped his hand away.
And he had asked if it hurt.
Of course it didn’t hurt her.
Because all pain was absorbed by him instead.
Chu'he felt a wave of self-loathing, her mood sinking. "My temper is terrible."
Ninth’s eyes flickered with something unreadable.
How strange.
He was the one who had been struck, yet he didn’t feel the slightest bit wronged. Instead, his heart inexplicably softened, as if eager to melt into a thick, warm liquid and envelop the girl who had curled into a small, vulnerable ball.
Chu'he sometimes had her whims, sometimes acted overly sentimental. The deeper their relationship grew, the more her spoiled young mistress tendencies might surface.
She lifted her face, meeting the gaze of the boy draped over her.
"Ninth, it’s all your fault!"
See? She really was temperamental—just moments ago, she had been angry at herself, and now she was blaming him again.
Yet Ninth, as if his brain had short-circuited, nodded without hesitation. "Mhm, it’s all my fault."
Chu'he glared at him. "You agreed so fast—do you even know what I’m blaming you for?"
Ninth answered honestly, "No."
She poked his cheek. "I blame you for liking me too much!"
Ninth laughed, the sound bright and clear. "Yeah, it’s my fault for liking Chu'he too much!"
Her heart inexplicably melted. "Do you even know what you’re saying?"
"No." He held her hand against his face, nuzzling into her touch like a contented white-furred cat basking in affection. "But whatever Chu'he says must be right."
Chu'he was delighted but tried to play it cool. "Ninth is a love-struck fool."
Having spent so much time with her, Ninth had picked up on her odd turns of phrase. He grinned. "Yep, I’m a love-struck fool."
Dazzled by his radiant smile, Chu'he was struck by a sudden impulse. She flipped over, pinning him beneath her.
Cradling his face, she studied him up close. No matter how many times she looked at him, even if others called his features eerie, she always thought he was beautiful.
"Ninth, being a love-struck fool is bad. I should fix that for you."
Ninth blinked, confused.
Chu'he let out a playful "rawr!" and pretended to bite a chunk of air above his head.
Then she declared, "There! All done!"
Ninth: "All done?"
"I just ate up all your love-struck foolishness!"
Ninth gasped dramatically. "Wow, Chu'he is amazing."
Her eyes sparkled as she announced with exaggerated grandeur:
"So from now on, you just have to love me mindlessly!"
He burst into laughter, like a spring breeze thawing frozen earth, warmth and joy spilling freely.
Chu'he stared at him unblinking, swallowed hard, then leaned down to press several firm kisses to the corner of the bewildered boy’s lips.
A pale hand slid to the back of her head, pulling her closer as he parted his lips, inviting her tongue to slip in, their breaths mingling as the kiss deepened.
Outside, Black Goose, whose hearing was far too sharp, cast a hopeful glance at White Dove. "Honey, maybe we could also—"
White Dove smacked him. "I’m not eating your love-struck foolishness. Get lost!"
