As the first ray of morning sunlight streamed into the room, Qi Huan slowly opened her eyes.
Gazing at the empty side of the bed, she felt a twinge of loneliness.
After dressing and washing up, she trudged listlessly into the dining room, where she once again encountered her old friend she hadn't seen in a long time—plain noodle soup.
Yan Ge waited nearby, greeting her with a grin, "Good morning, Miss Qi."
Qi Huan responded with a soft "Morning" before sitting at the redwood table and picking up a mouthful of noodles with her chopsticks, chewing slowly.
It wasn't as delicious as Shu's cooking.
Seeing her eyes gradually redden, Yan Ge cautiously asked, "Miss Qi, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just don't like plain noodle soup."
What I like is Shu, who only knows how to make plain noodle soup.
Hearing the melancholy in her voice, Yan Ge quickly removed the bowl of noodles.
Softening her tone, she said gently, "Since Miss Qi doesn't like it, let's not eat it. I'll take you out to buy some char siu bao!"
Before Qi Huan could answer, Yan Qing gulped audibly.
Amused by her comical expression, Qi Huan nodded.
A short while later, the three of them were happily walking down the street.
Suddenly, a few dark clouds drifted across the sky, completely obscuring the morning sun. A cool breeze arose, sweeping away the usual stuffiness and making everyone feel refreshed.
At the corner shop, steam billowed from the bamboo steamers, and the vendor wore a bright smile, warmly attending to each customer.
Yan Ge squeezed forward and bought ten buns.
She gave two to Qi Huan, kept two for herself, and the remaining six all went into Yan Qing's stomach.
Qi Huan held a bun in each hand, taking a bite from the left, then a bite from the right, ensuring equal attention to both, without favoring either side.
Across the alley, on the upper floor of a teahouse, Li Yuanxiu happened to spot the three mistress and servants again, and found himself watching them for a few moments.
He observed her serious demeanor as she alternated bites between the left and right buns, and couldn't help but smile.
The wind outside grew stronger, and his servant Suixin reminded him, "Young Master, shall we close the window?"
"No need," Li Yuanxiu replied.
He took a small sip of clear tea and picked up a xiaolongbao, eating it slowly and methodically.
Suddenly, it began to pour.
He put down his chopsticks and looked towards the alley entrance.
He saw the three of them running for cover.
Large raindrops pelted the bluestone-paved road, creating a misty haze over the street. After a long drought, this welcome rain made people laugh as they ran for shelter.
Qi Huan took refuge under the teahouse's porch, watching the intensifying rain with growing concern for Li Shuchen on his journey.
At that moment, Li Shuchen's situation was indeed precarious.
His group had encountered two waves of assassins, each highly skilled and ruthless in their techniques.
The first wave of assassins used familiar fighting styles, clearly another ploy by his second uncle, Prince Zhong.
Prince Zhong was as direct and forceful as ever; the sheer number of assassins indicated he had spared no expense.
The second wave of assassins was unfamiliar. Could they be from his third uncle?
Inside the carriage, Li Shuchen's eyes were cold, his face as still as water.
The closer they got to the Capital City, the more people wanted him dead.
Rain washed away the blood staining the ground as guards fell one after another. Yan Wu was injured, while Yan Qinghe wielded his long sword like a fierce wind, but was surrounded by several attackers.
Li Shuchen drew his sword, its blade gleaming with an eerie light. This sword was originally named Chun Yun, but now it was called Si Qi.
Gripping the hilt tightly, Li Shuchen leaped into the fray.
The sword's tip tasted blood, growing more formidable with each strike.
Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he spotted a hidden arrow flying towards Yan Qinghe.
Without a second thought, Li Shuchen used an assassin's shoulder as a springboard to leap over and deflect the arrow.
At the same moment, the assassin leader's blade pierced his left arm, tearing his clothes and revealing the protective armor Qi Huan had given him.
Li Shuchen's lips curled into a faint smile as he thrust his sword into the assassin's heart.
As he withdrew the blade, fresh blood stained his robes.
He frowned in displeasure, then swiftly slashed another assassin's throat.
Gradually, the original color of his cyan robe became indistinguishable as rain and blood seeped into the fabric. Wherever his sword pointed, assassins fell.
But they kept coming, wave after wave.
The valley of Mi Mountain outside Meizhou city had become a bloodbath.
Of those accompanying him, only Yan Wu, Yan Qinghe, Mo Wangshan, and Eunuch Luo—who was playing dead among the corpses—remained alive.
Yan Qinghe fought with bloodshot eyes, cursing as he battled.
Yan Wu had suffered several wounds, blood trickling steadily. He licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, staying close to protect Li Shuchen.
Looking at the bodies strewn across the ground, Mo Wangshan was filled with fury, wishing he could flay the assassins alive.
These soldiers of his—some had just become fathers, others hadn't even held a girl's hand yet—now lay dead in this silent valley.
They hadn't died on the battlefield or at the hands of enemies, but in internal strife. How laughable, how tragic.
Mo Wangshan's eyes bulged with rage as he wordlessly lifted an assassin and slammed him violently to the ground.
The assassins began to fight recklessly, forsaking defense for all-out attack.
As Li Shuchen intervened to save the gravely injured Yan Wu, a blade slashed the back of his hand.
He slit the throat of the last assassin and suddenly coughed up a mouthful of black blood.
The assassin's blade had been poisoned.
The downpour continued unabated.
Yan Qing stomped her feet and hugged herself, asking Qi Huan, "Sister Qi, are you cold?"
Qi Huan smiled and patted the bun on top of her head. "Let's go inside. I'll treat you to some tea."
The finest Jun Mountain Silver Needle Tea, with leaves as thin as needles, offered a sweet taste with a hint of bitterness. Qi Huan took a few small sips, and her right eyelid began to twitch incessantly.
She extended her arm to Yan Qing and said, "Pinch me."
In her previous life, she had heard that a twitching left eye meant coming fortune, while a twitching right eye signaled impending disaster. It was said that having someone pinch you could ward off the bad luck. Though unscientific, she and her friends had always indulged in this practice.
But she had forgotten that Yan Qing wasn't one of her old friends, but a supernaturally strong girl. A light pinch from her was enough to make Qi Huan cry out in pain.
Seeing the red mark on her arm, Yan Qing panicked and nervously said, "Sister Qi, let me pinch you back to make it even."
Qi Huan wiped away her tears and burst into laughter.
Her radiant smile, with traces of moisture still clinging to the corners of her eyes, created a conflicting beauty that suddenly caught Li Yuanxiu's gaze.
As the sky gradually darkened, the rain showed no signs of letting up, as if trying to make up for months of drought all at once.
Yan Ge turned to Qi Huan and asked, "Miss Qi, shall I go back to fetch the carriage and return to pick you up?"
Qi Huan handed her the curtain and said with concern, "When you get back, just have Yan Jiu come pick me up. You should quickly take a hot bath, change into clean clothes, and drink some ginger tea. Be careful not to catch a cold."
At that moment, a man in scarlet robes slowly descended the stairs, passing by her side.
"Perhaps I could escort the young lady home?" he offered.
Qi Huan looked at him, feeling that his face was somewhat familiar, but she couldn't recall where she had seen him before.
She refused without hesitation, "Thank you for your kind offer, sir, but that won't be necessary."
Even though Shu wasn't around, she still behaved well, actively maintaining a proper distance from all men.
Hearing her straightforward answer, Li Yuanxiu didn't persist. He left an umbrella for them and departed with his servant.
Yan Ge disappeared into the rain under the umbrella, then returned driving a carriage to pick up Qi Huan.
It rained all day, and the temperature dropped suddenly.
Qi Huan removed the summer mat, replaced it with fresh bedding, and gradually fell asleep wrapped in her quilt.
In her dream, she seemed to see Shu.
Amidst mountains shrouded in bloody mist and piles of corpses, she stumbled along. Suddenly, she saw a familiar figure soaking in a pool of blood. As she approached, she realized it was Shu's face.
