"Caught up—they're over there!"
Nan Banruo quickly held her breath.
She dared not make another sound to disturb her elder brother, only gripping the fabric on his shoulders tightly, trying with all her might to lighten her weight through sheer willpower, her heart pounding as they soared past one gilded pavilion after another.
Ahead, the palace road no longer bustled with life.
On either side stood vermilion walls crowned with yellow tiles, framing a straight, bluestone-paved path leading directly to the imperial city.
At the end of the road, two massive black gates had already been thrown open, allowing the war chariot to pass through unimpeded.
From afar, the imperial city resembled a colossal beast lurking in the darkness, its maw gaping wide, hiding unseen fangs within the abyss.
"Dark—so damn dark!" Nan Nianyi muttered grimly.
With a swift shift of his footing, he crushed a crescent-shaped eave beneath his step, crossed dozens of feet in a flash, and landed with a soft tap atop the towering vermilion wall to the left of the palace road.
Nan Banruo felt her heart drop behind her, swinging like a pendulum before catching up in a dizzying rush.
"Swish, swish, swish!"
Nan Nianyi raced along the high wall at breakneck speed, the Golden Incineration Technique pushed to its limits, leaving golden afterimages in his wake, his toes barely grazing the yellow tiles.
Below, the war chariot thundered forward, the bluestone road and vermilion walls trembling faintly under its momentum.
As it drew closer to the open black gates, dust began to trickle down from the beast-headed lintel above.
Nan Banruo’s heart leaped into her throat.
"Swish—"
Following the chariot’s trail, Nan Nianyi kicked off the wall and dove diagonally downward.
Faster… faster… faster…
Nan Banruo wished she could turn herself into a gust of wind to lend her brother even the slightest boost.
"Bang!"
A footprint sank an inch deep into the vermilion wall as Nan Nianyi plunged downward, sparks streaking beneath his feet.
The chariot was nearly at the gates.
Thirty yards… twenty yards… less than ten!
Nan Nianyi drew a sharp breath, then stomped down with all his might, shattering the wall tiles as he hurled himself toward the chariot with the force of a storm.
"Whoa—!"
Eight snow-white steeds reared with shrill whinnies, their forelegs kicking the air while their hind legs dug into the ground.
The driver reacted swiftly—reining in the horses, pressing down the shafts—all in one fluid motion. The chariot skidded sideways in a half-circle, its wheels screeching against the bluestone, sending sparks flying.
"Young Master?!" the driver gasped in shock.
Nan Nianyi gave a hurried bow before vaulting onto the chariot’s front platform.
Nan Banruo’s gaze swept into the carriage. There sat their father, Nan Jihe, clad in battle armor, a broadsword resting across his knees. Beside him, their mother, Tianshu, serenely brewed tea, the emerald liquid swirling with floating silver tips.
Familiar uncles—seasoned warriors, the finest of the elite—filled the seats on either side.
As the chariot jerked to a halt, every pair of eyes fixed on the door.
"Father!" Nan Nianyi stepped inside and cut straight to the point. "Emperor Tianyou has allied with Lin Qingyang. The palace is a trap—we must retreat!"
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Nan Jihe’s piercing gaze locked onto him. "How do you know this?"
Nan Banruo clenched the fabric of her brother’s shoulder, tense.
She knew her father well—a man of stern, unyielding principles who dismissed the supernatural outright. With time so short, explanations would only waste precious moments.
Nan Nianyi hesitated briefly. "Someone in the palace sent me word."
Nan Banruo: "..."
Her brother was terrible at lying. That excuse was almost painful to hear.
She quickly interjected, "If Father doubts, then open the secret decree—see if it’s truly blank."
Nan Jihe frowned. "Nonsense."
Yet even as he scolded, his hand moved to the box beside him, retrieving the sealed decree and breaking the threads.
With a flick, the scroll unfurled.
His expression darkened as his eyes fell upon the blank imperial yellow.
Seizing the moment, Nan Nianyi pressed on. "Lin Qingyang plans to marry Xuan Heng and seize the throne without bloodshed. Xuan He is willing to surrender his ancestors’ legacy just to live as a wealthy commoner. Father, our family’s lives are the bargaining chip Emperor Tianyou handed to Lin Qingyang!"
The blank decree crumpled slowly in Nan Jihe’s grip.
The air grew heavier.
"Clatter, clatter, clatter!"
Suddenly, a rapid drumming of hooves approached.
The commotion at the gates had alerted the imperial guards within the inner city.
"My lord," Uncle Pojun, the driver, reported gravely, "Deputy Commander Little Wu is here."
Nan Jihe’s thick brows knitted as he set aside his sword and stepped out of the chariot.
Tonight, the key figure aiding him in assassinating Lin Qingyang was none other than the Imperial Guard’s Grand Commander, Wu Baiyu—a man risen from the streets, a seasoned warrior who had carved his way to becoming one of the era’s most renowned grandmasters.
Though aged, his blade had lost none of its edge.
He and Nan Jihe shared a bond forged in life-and-death battles, mutual respect running deep.
Years ago, Wu Baiyu had found an orphaned child on the battlefield, raising him as his own and training him into a formidable fighter.
That child was now the young man before them—Deputy Commander Wu Xiaoyu.
"Lord of Yanzhou," Wu Xiaoyu dismounted and clasped his fists. "Time is of the essence. Why delay here?"
Nan Jihe stood tall at the chariot’s helm, his gaze pinning the younger man in place.
Only when Wu Xiaoyu, unable to bear the pressure, gritted his teeth and looked up did Nan Jihe finally speak. "Where is your father?"
"Ah," Wu Xiaoyu replied a touch too quickly. "His Majesty is keeping Lin Qingyang occupied. To ensure the emperor’s safety during the strike, Father had no choice but to remain in the banquet hall. He sent me to escort you."
Wu Xiaoyu had delicate, pleasant features—a face that inspired trust.
He urged again, "Lord of Yanzhou, my father is waiting."
Nan Banruo stepped out beside her father.
She said softly, "Father, Grand Commander Wu is one of the finest fighters alive. Even Lin Qingyang would struggle to harm him."
Wu Xiaoyu’s eyes flicked to her.
At the sight of her, his expression faltered for the briefest instant.
She was like snow under moonlight.
Clear, pure, radiant—a beauty so piercing it stole one’s breath.
"The young lady speaks wisely," Wu Xiaoyu averted his gaze. "Lord of Yanzhou, we must hurry."
Nan Banruo met his eyes. "Then tell me—how did Grand Commander Wu die without a sound? Was it because he never suspected betrayal from someone he loved?"
The words struck like thunder.
Wu Xiaoyu’s composure shattered. Before he could stop himself, he staggered half a step back in shock.
Nan Jihe’s gaze sharpened like a blade.
"You—!" Wu Xiaoyu forced out through clenched teeth. "How dare you slander me!"
Nan Banruo simply watched him, serene. "Your eyes have already confessed."
Wu Xiaoyu’s pupils darted wildly.
Realizing the game was up, he retreated hastily, waving his men forward. The imperial guards surged around him, forming a protective barrier.
Nan Jihe’s fury erupted. "You treacherous cur!"
"Lord Yanzhou!" Wu Xiaoyu shouted loudly, "You come armed to the teeth, trampling through the palace gates on horseback—could it be you intend to rebel?"
He forced himself to appear calm, turning the accusation around to mask his panic.
"Guards! Take them into the palace and await His Majesty's judgment!"
Imperial guards surged from his left and right, slowly encircling the war chariot halted in the palace pathway.
Seeing his scheme exposed, Wu Xiaoyu decided to double down: "Lord Yanzhou, if you dare lay hands on my imperial guards at the palace gates, then you truly harbor treasonous intentions!"
Only a low, chilling laugh came from Nan Jihe.
"Nephew." The term of endearment was uttered warmly, yet it sent shivers down the spine. "This lord isn’t entirely clear which laws I’ve broken by riding through the palace grounds. Report it truthfully, and let the censors impeach me tomorrow."
"Whoa—"
The uncle handling the reins tugged sharply, and the eight snow-white steeds turned as one, their iron hooves stamping impatiently on the stone bricks.
The guards closed in from both sides, attempting to block the horses.
"Husband, calm yourself. Have some tea." Tianshu approached the chariot’s shaft with a teacup in hand. "Magistrate Wu is an official of the court. Even if he lacks filial piety and honor, it’s not our place to punish him. As elders, we can only scold him a little."
She reached down and clasped Nan Jihe’s tightly clenched fist.
Though his expression remained unreadable, the shock and grief of learning that his sworn brother had been treacherously murdered had already torn his heart to shreds.
Nan Jihe gave a slow nod.
As the chariot turned, just before being intercepted, he suddenly drew a deep breath, focusing his energy.
A pair of warm, calloused hands swiftly covered Nan Banruo’s ears.
"You—MISERABLE—WRETCH!!!"
The next instant, a deafening roar erupted, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. The palace walls trembled violently on either side.
The guards surrounding the chariot were flung back, tumbling over one another.
"Boom—thud thud thud!"
The sonic blast tore down the pathway, crashing into the Xuan Gate. The massive doors, like rotten planks in a hurricane, slammed repeatedly against the rear walls.
"Guh—!"
Wu Xiaoyu clutched his chest, blood spraying from his lips.
"St-stop them…"
His voice sounded muffled, as if submerged underwater.
By the time the guards staggered to their feet, the chariot was long gone, leaving them choking on dust.
From afar, Tianshu’s gentle voice floated back: "This nephew—scold him once, and he spits blood. Surely he won’t go crying to the emperor over such a trifle?"
Wu Xiaoyu touched the faint dents in his armor and spat another mouthful of blood.
Several vital acupoints on his body had been struck by the hidden needles in the tea.
Tianshu, the leader of the Big Dipper—master of assassination.
The chariot had traveled far, yet Nan Banruo still clung to Tianshu’s hand.
"Mother," she said dazedly, "your hand is so soft and warm!"
Her heart, suspended in fear for so long, finally settled. All her strength seemed to drain away, leaving her emotions light and floating.
Tianshu turned her hand to pat Nan Banruo’s fluffy head.
Dazed, the girl glanced at her mother, who smelled faintly of tea, then at her father and elder brother speaking in low voices.
At this moment, she felt she could die without regret.
"Nan Banruo." Nan Jihe suddenly called her name.
She startled.
Full name—never a good sign.
Sure enough, Nan Jihe fixed her with a heavy gaze. "Your brother didn’t know about Elder Wu’s fate either. How did you?"
Nan Banruo: "…"
Her father had eyes and ears everywhere. Amidst the chaos, he’d even noticed Nan Nianyi’s shock.
Tianshu shooed the others off the chariot.
Knowing she couldn’t evade the question, Nan Banruo lowered her head and recounted her extraordinary experience of rebirth.
"Creak… creak…"
The wheels rolled over one lane after another.
She said, "Elder Wu’s head… hung right beside Father’s."
Later, she also learned the truth—that day, Lin Qingyang had deliberately let Xuan Heng capture her and take her to the Phoenix Sky Drum Tower. He’d grown tired of deceiving her.
If she hadn’t acted so foolishly, sparking his interest anew—if she’d cried and raged as he expected—that day would have been her last.
Remembering, her lips trembled uncontrollably, her voice scattering.
Seeing her like this, the three of them ached with pity.
"Enough, enough. It’s all in the past. Whether it was a prophetic nightmare or a second life, Banruo, you’ve already altered fate." Tianshu soothed. "Divulging too much of heaven’s secrets may harm you. Let’s speak no more of it."
"Mm."
"Leave Lin Qingyang to us."
"Mm."
"Shall I stay with you tonight?"
"Yes!"
Back at the estate, Nan Jihe immediately mobilized the garrison troops as a precaution.
"Don’t worry, Banruo," Nan Nianyi said with a cold smile. "Now that Father knows everything, no ambush will succeed."
Nan Banruo nodded, though unease prickled at her heart.
Tonight, Lin Qingyang’s assassination attempt had failed—who knew how he’d retaliate?
As she pondered, a messenger suddenly arrived: "An imperial decree from the palace!"
Nan Jihe frowned.
Shielding his family, he strode out.
A procession of palace attendants approached, led by a beaming chief eunuch holding aloft a bright yellow scroll.
Spectators from the Peach Blossom Market gathered to watch.
In a shrill voice, the eunuch proclaimed:
"By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: The daughter of the Yanzhou Nan clan, Nan Banruo, virtuous and wise, is a match made in heaven with Lin Qingyang of the East, pillar of the state and loyal minister. By imperial decree, they are betrothed to unite in eternal harmony. The Ministry of Rites shall select an auspicious date for the wedding. So it is decreed!"
Nan Banruo’s eyes flickered with realization.
"...He’s returned too!"
