Xiao Huan quietly tucked the blood-stained handkerchief into his sleeve as the two walked back to the Marquis's Mansion in silence.
Lin Ruyi frowned slightly, her voice tinged with reproach.
"Ah-Huan, why did you slip off to the General's Mansion without a word? When I woke and didn’t see you, I was terrified."
Xiao Huan smiled gently, soothing her.
"You’ve endured enough hardship from the journey. You were sleeping so soundly—I couldn’t bear to disturb you. Besides, what trouble could possibly arise right under the Emperor’s nose?"
"How can you say that?"
Lin Ruyi’s voice rose as her pent-up worry and frustration spilled over.
"What if she truly meant to harm you? What then?"
The moment the words left her lips, she realized her outburst and hastily glanced around before lowering her voice.
"I’m just... worried about you."
Xiao Huan’s expression darkened, his tone firm.
"Ruyi, don’t make baseless accusations."
"But—"
Lin Ruyi’s eyes reddened, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.
"In Shuozhou, we barely escaped with our lives! If not for Captain Su’s rescue, we’d never have made it back! And didn’t we see that masked man head straight into the Northwest Barracks? Isn’t that proof enough?"
"Ruyi!" Xiao Huan’s voice sharpened with restrained urgency.
"The Northwest Barracks house thousands—not all answer to Xiao Zheng, nor would they act on her orders alone. You must think clearly, not jump to conclusions."
Lin Ruyi’s eyes flashed with defiance.
"Yet those officers spoke only of Xiao Zheng—as if you were nothing to them! If they weren’t her men, then who? Ah-Huan, people change. Can’t you see that?"
Xiao Huan’s gaze deepened like still water.
"Precisely because hearts are unpredictable, we must tread carefully. Rash words will only alert the enemy. This matter is too grave for recklessness."
Lin Ruyi bit her lip, tears glistening.
"I just... I can’t bear to see you hurt again. What happened in Shuozhou still haunts me."
Xiao Huan sighed, his voice softening as he brushed a hand over her shoulder.
"I know your fears. But that’s why we must stay calm. Trust me—I have a plan."
After escorting Lin Ruyi to her chamber, Xiao Huan closed the door quietly and retrieved two handkerchiefs from his sleeve.
One was slightly aged, its edges yellowed; the other bore fresh bloodstains. Yet both bore the same delicate embroidery in the upper right corner—a tiny bow and arrow.
He laid them side by side on the desk, tracing the stitches with his fingertips. Suddenly, his fingers stilled. The embroidery’s final stitch was identical in both—down to the last thread.
These were Aunt Lan’s work.
Xiao Huan remembered when Yingge first arrived in Shuozhou—a quiet, refined girl. His mother, pitying her, had asked Aunt Lan to teach her embroidery. Yingge hadn’t protested, spending days sketching patterns in the pavilion.
Back then, he’d practiced archery in the nearby field. Watching him, Yingge had begged their grandfather to teach her too. Everyone assumed it was a passing whim for a nine-year-old girl—at most, a way to build strength. But she’d proven a prodigy, relentless in her training. Within a year, she never missed her mark.
The calluses from her bowstring soon frayed her silk threads, and her embroidery fell by the wayside. Aunt Lan had teased that while other girls adorned their handkerchiefs with flowers and butterflies, Yingge’s always hid a tiny bow in the corner.
Xiao Huan exhaled, pulling himself back to the present.
Captain Su had once mentioned that on the night Shuozhou fell and their grandfather died, he’d seen a masked figure in armor welcomed into the Tartar camp. The stranger moved with ease, chatting familiarly with their enemies. As they drew a letter from their sleeve, a handkerchief had fluttered unnoticed to the ground.
Buried under corpses, Captain Su had seized it with his last strength before crawling to survival.
Was that figure Xiao Zheng? Could Captain Su be trusted?
Xiao Huan steeled himself. The bait was set—now, they waited.
That night, in the dead hours before dawn, the capital lay shrouded in silence. The streets were empty save for the occasional call of the night watch.
Xiao Huan listened, eyes closed, as if anticipating something.
Then—footsteps, faint as whispers, skittered across the roof.
His eyes snapped open.
They were here.
Two shadows, swift as specters, darted toward the servants’ quarters in the rear courtyard. Their movements were soundless, blending into the dark. After a quick scan of the area, they slipped inside, zeroing in on the lump beneath the blankets.
One raised a blade and slashed down—only for cotton stuffing to explode like winter snow.
"Ambush!"
The attacker barely dodged the dart that whistled past his ear. Another blade’s arc flashed from behind—Xiao Huan emerged from the shadows, his sword gleaming coldly as the wounded assassin clutched his arm.
"Who sent you?" Xiao Huan’s voice was ice.
Panicked, the assassins turned to flee, but Xiao Huan moved like lightning, blocking their path. Steel clashed in the dark.
Just then, Lin Ruyi and Captain Su rushed in at the commotion.
"Ah!"
Captain Su staggered, collapsing as the assassins seized the moment to hurl a volley of hidden projectiles. Without hesitation, Xiao Huan shielded him, deflecting the deadly rain. The attackers vanished into the night.
Unseen in the shadows, Xiao Zheng watched it all—his hawk-like gaze fixed on the skirmish, a faint, calculating smile curling his lips.
Seeing the black-clad figure escape amidst the chaos, Xiao Zheng gave a slight nod to Zhang Hu beside him, signaling to hold their position. Then, like a ghost, he vanished into the night, as if he had never been there at all.
The next day, at noon.
Xiao Zheng spotted Li Tie returning to the Marquis's Mansion, his face twisted in anger as he clutched his arm.
"What happened to your right hand?"
Li Tie was fuming.
"General!! That Zhang Qian from the Imperial Guards insisted on sparring with me today. I thought it’d be a friendly match, but out of nowhere, the bastard lost his temper like he’d swallowed gunpowder and suddenly drew his blade! I wasn’t quick enough, and he got me right here on the arm—look, it’s even bleeding! What kind of cheap trick is that? Damn coward!"
Xiao Zheng laughed in exasperation and waved him off. "You’re embarrassing me! Getting hurt like this? Enough—quit making a scene and go get that wound bandaged!"
After Li Tie shuffled away, grumbling, Zhang Hu stroked his chin and mused,
"Lucky for us the old emperor didn’t send a one-armed man last night, or I’d have been in trouble too. Tsk tsk, poor Ironhead."
