Great Zhou World

In the small courtyard in the west of the city, Nangong Xi has been staying quietly in the room for the whole day. She will eat the meals delivered to her and read the classical books on the desk carefully, but everything seems like a walking corpse, living as if she is carrying out someone's mission.

Today's cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and a gentle breeze blew through the gaps in the square window, drifting into the ancient book in Nangong Xi's hands. Spring had arrived. She had never felt the seasons change so quickly, or perhaps she no longer had the ability to experience them.

"Miss, the courtyard is looking good, how about I go with you to have a look." This was the only person in the courtyard who served her without monitoring her, her name was Xingren. Xingren probably received an order from someone, and everything she did was forced even though it was clearly an invitation. The doors and windows in the room were all wide open, and the sunlight shone in from all directions. Nangong Xi was like a ghost version of the dark, so scared that she just wanted to hide, in a place where no one could find her. But she still went out, after all, her arms were no match for her thighs, and the swing under the cherry tree was floating with a freedom that did not belong to Nangong Xi.

Nangong Xi sat alone on the swing, her face still pale, the frailty of someone recovering from a serious illness. She was wrapped in a plain robe, her eyes slightly closed, as if the sunlight and falling cherry blossoms brought her a rare sense of peace. Xingren stood behind her, not pushing the swing, but gently holding the ropes, her eyes scanning the courtyard walls with the vigilance of a hawk. The two crescent-shaped scimitars at her waist reflected a cold, dim light in the sunlight.

The seemingly tranquil noon courtyard lurked invisibly, a warning system hidden in the shadows. Shadowy figures lurked in the crevices of the rockery, around the corners of the corridors, and even behind the dense bamboo grove.

However, this tranquility was like glass, shattered in an instant by a figure that passed by silently.

Ning Yangyang appeared as if she had "seeped" directly from the shadows in the corner. Her dark cyan outfit clung to her slender figure, almost blending in with the grayish-blue brick wall. Her movements were so swift that only shadows remained, and her aim was chillingly accurate.

The first secret guard hid in the crevice of the rockery, the second was at the corner of the corridor, the third and fourth rushed out from behind the bamboo bushes on both sides at the same time, the fifth was guarding the doorway leading to the inner courtyard, and the last one reacted a little faster, roaring and slashing with a knife from the side.

From appearance to end, it took only a few breaths. Silence returned to the courtyard, with only the rustling of bamboo leaves in the wind, the gentle sound of falling cherry petals, and a few pools of dark red on the ground that quickly spread and were particularly glaring in the sunlight.

Ning Yangyang pulled the longsword back from the doorframe. Blood dripped down the sword's groove, onto the blue bricks, blurring the small red plum blossoms. Her face was expressionless, her gaze like an icy blade, piercing the gorgeous cherry tree and the two people beneath it.

The tranquility under the tree had long been broken.

Xingren suddenly pulled Nangong Xi off the swing and protected her behind her. Her movements were so fast that Nangong Xi stumbled and nearly fell. Xingren's two swords were already unsheathed, the crescent-shaped blades humming in her hands, and the cold blade light reflected her face, which suddenly became as cold as ice. Nangong Xi stood firm by holding the swing rope, watching the ever-changing killing in front of him in shock and doubt, his face paler than cherry blossoms. But when he saw that it was the figure of an old friend, his pale face was still stained with a rare red.

"How dare the princess barge in in broad daylight!" Xingren's voice clashed like shattered ice, laced with rage and a hint of disbelief. She crossed her swords across her chest, adopting a tight defensive stance, firmly blocking Nangong Xi behind her, her eyes fixed on the advancing Ning Yangyang. "Want to take her? Ask my sword first!"

Before she could finish her words, she shot out like an arrow from a bow! No longer passively defending, she took the initiative to attack! Her two swords danced, sweeping up a swirling cloud of cherry petals. Two intertwined, air-ripping silver wheels of light, accompanied by a sharp, piercing sound of breaking wind, one to the throat, the other to the waist! The sword flashed as swift as lightning, blocking all space for Ning Yangyang to dodge, and the petals were shattered by the sharp sword energy.

Ning Yangyang's eyes fixed, and instead of advancing, he retreated! The long sword in his hand let out a clear dragon's roar, instantly transforming into an impenetrable silver light curtain! At incredible angles and speeds, the tip of the sword tapped the nodes where the power of the two blade wheels was changing with incredible precision!

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!”

A dense, rain-like crash of metal clashing resounded! Dazzling sparks flashed in the sunlight like golden fireflies! A tremendous force emanated from the blade, numbing Xingren's wrist. Ning Yangyang's sword flowed like flowing water, leveraging the force to absorb it. The blade twisted strangely against the inside of the scimitar, and the sword's spine slammed into Xingren's right wrist with immense force!

"Ugh!" Xingren felt a sharp pain in her right wrist, nearly dropping the scimitar. She endured the pain, harnessing the centrifugal force of her spinning body. Her left scimitar transformed into a silver moon, whirling along the ground. With a shrill sound, it slashed fiercely at Ning Yangyang's calf! This strike was ruthless and cunning, intended to force the opponent back.

Ning Yangyang thrust her sword downward, the tip of the sword striking the center of the spinning scimitar's spine with uncanny precision. "Clang!" A deafening, sharp sound! The scimitar, lifted high by this concentrated force, spun through the air, then with a thud, pierced deeply into the thick trunk of the cherry tree. The hilt trembled violently, shaking off countless pink and white petals like a shower of flowers!

The weapon slipped from her hand! Xingren's face paled, and for the first time, horror flashed in her eyes. Without hesitation, she formed claws from her five fingers, infusing all her strength into them. With a sharp sound that ripped through the air, she grabbed Ning Yangyang's face! Her other hand reached for the hidden weapon bag at her waist.

Ning Yangyang's eyes flashed with coldness! The moment the claws reached her face, her left hand flashed out like lightning, her five fingers gripping Xingren's wrist like a steel clamp! At the same time, she didn't retract the longsword in her right hand, but instead turned the hilt upside down and thrust it forward with lightning speed! The end of the hard hilt, gathering immense force, slammed fiercely into Xingren's soft chest and abdomen!

"puff!"

Xingren felt as if struck by a sledgehammer, a mouthful of blood spurting out, staining a few falling cherry blossoms red. All her strength was instantly drained from her, and she was thrown backwards, slamming into the wooden post of the swing with a thud, shaking the entire structure violently. She slid down the post and sat on the ground, her chest aching, blood gushing from the corners of her mouth. She could only stare at Ning Yangyang, her eyes filled with despair, unable to stand.

The sun was blinding, and cherry blossoms fluttered like rain. Beneath a tree, Ning Yangyang stood with her sword, the tip pointed at the ground, dripping with blood. Nangong Xi, holding onto the violently swaying ropes of the swing, watched the fierce fight that ended in a flash, speechless with shock. This was the first time she had seen Ning Yangyang kill in front of her, and she had almost forgotten that she, too, was the daughter of a general.

"Nangong, give me your hand."

Those slender hands, yet imbued with incredible strength, jerked Nangong Xi back to reality from her near-immersive trance. Only she, Ning Yangyang, had never given up on taking her away. This realization was like a faint stream of warmth, pouring into Nangong Xi's already frozen and numb heart.

Ning Yangyang's gaze fell on Nangong Xi. The once elegant and gentle man was now emaciated, wrapped in a loose, plain robe, like a withered bamboo stalk, completely broken by the wind and snow. On his pale face, the eyes that once shone with starlight now held only the silence of a deep pool and a subtle hint of panic.

Ning Yangyang's heart suddenly twitched, and she almost dared not look anymore. The shocking fragility made her chest surge with indescribable dull pain and overwhelming anger.

It wasn't until she squeezed that cold, trembling hand tightly, feeling the familiar, cool touch of Nangong Xi, that Ning Yangyang finally felt a sense of grounded reality. She practically half-carried, half-dragged Nangong Xi onto the horse's back, the light weight of his weight making her nose ache.

"Hold on tight!" Ning Yangyang shouted, and squeezed the horse's belly hard.

The steed neighed loudly and rushed out of the courtyard gate like an arrow, leaving behind a mess of cherry blossoms, bloodstains, and Xingren's unwilling gaze. This was the best steed Ning Yangyang could find. Its hooves flew, crushing the dust on the official road, and the scenery on both sides quickly receded into a blur of colors.

The wind roared wildly in her ears, scratching her face painfully. Yet Ning Yangyang still felt it was too slow, too slow! Every breath felt like a century. Why couldn't this horse grow wings? Why couldn't it reach the safe shore—Alai Country—in the blink of an eye?

A fresh, glaring streak of blood slowly spread across Ning Yangyang's left leg, the wound from the scimitar during the fierce fight with Xingren. The pain spread in tiny strands, but it couldn't shake Ning Yangyang's nerves, which were as tense as a bowstring.

She only felt the tight embrace from behind, Nangong Xi's arms tightly wrapped around her waist, his forehead pressed against her back, the force so strong that it seemed as if he wanted to embed himself completely into her body. It was a desperate attachment like a drowning man grasping at driftwood, a panic-stricken grip that fears losing something again after regaining it.

Through the thin clothing, Ning Yangyang could even clearly feel the other person's rapid yet weak heartbeat, as well as the silent, heavy dependence. This hug was both a sustenance and a longing.

I don't know how long I ran until a wide river appeared before my eyes. At the ferry, a small black-sailed boat was quietly anchored, with a taciturn boatman standing at the bow. It was obvious that Ning Yangyang had already made all the arrangements.

Ning Yangyang yanked on the reins, and the steed reared up, neighing loudly. Amidst a cloud of dust, she swiftly dismounted, then turned around, almost carefully carrying Nangong Xi down. Nangong Xi landed on his feet, his limp body swaying slightly, only to be held in place by Ning Yangyang's strong arms.

"Nangong," Ning Yangyang's voice was low and rapid, with an unquestionable determination. She took out a heavy ebony token from her bosom, which was engraved with intricate dark patterns, stuffed it into Nangong Xi's cold hand, and held it tightly. "Listen, I can only buy you seven days. After seven days, Xiao Ziyi will be here. Take this, go by water, go downstream into the sea, and reach the port of Alai Kingdom faster. Everything after that depends on you. Right now, you are the most important, understand?" Ning Yangyang was afraid that Nangong Xi was still thinking about revenge. Revenge was too difficult. It was like hitting a rock with an egg, but in the end he found himself being played around by others.

She paused, her eyes like torches, each word weighing heavily: "Ah Xiang, I will take good care of her. I swear, I will protect her with my life. Don't think about anything, don't worry about anything, just go! Go far away, Nangong Xi!"

The wind still whistled in their ears, twirling Ning Yangyang's scattered hair and blowing Nangong Xi's loose robes. The token in his hand was cold and hard, poking at his palm. It was filled with Ning Yangyang's body warmth, the only real thing in this moment.

Nangong Xi remained silent. The long period of confinement and immense physical and mental exhaustion seemed to have drained her of her ability to speak. Or perhaps, a thousand words were stuck in her chest, too heavy to utter. She simply gazed deeply at her profile, its lines of determination carved by the wind and frost, and at the almost tragic determination and protection in her eyes.

Then, she suddenly opened her arms and threw herself into Ning Yangyang's arms again, holding her tightly with all her strength, even tighter than when she was on horseback, as if she wanted to transfer every last bit of her strength and warmth to her. She buried her face deep in the crook of Ning Yangyang's neck, greedily breathing in the mixture of sweat, blood, and the clear scent that belonged only to Ning Yangyang.

The unbridled wind swept away the dust and the familiar scent. Nangong Xi suddenly hated the howling wind immensely. It blew away the scent that belonged to Ning Yangyang, as if foreshadowing an impending, complete separation.

Ning Yangyang's body stiffened for a moment. She could clearly feel the dampness at the base of her neck, the silent tears soaking through her skirt. She raised her hand, as if wanting to return the hug, to comfort, to stay a moment longer... But in the end, her hand simply landed heavily, with immense reluctance, on Nangong Xi's thin back, gently patting him twice, like a final comfort and farewell.

"It's time." The boatman's hoarse voice broke the heartbreaking silence with urging.

The last trace of tenderness in Ning Yangyang's eyes faded in an instant, leaving only a cold rationality. She pushed Nangong Xi away with such force that he stumbled back two steps. Those eyes, which were always calm or smiling, were now filled with broken pain and confusion.

The boatman reached out and pulled Nangong Xi aboard. With a gentle lurch, the boat untied the ropes. With a nudge of the oar against the bank, the black-sailed boat glided gracefully into the shimmering river, drifting downstream.

"Yangyang..." A broken low call, almost completely swallowed by the sound of water and wind, finally escaped from her dry throat, carrying endless attachment, desperate questions and heavy promises.

The river surged, carrying a lone boat and a broken heart towards an unknown distance. Finally, beneath the blood-red sky, the figure on the shore abruptly turned his horse around, whipped it, and sped off in the direction he had come.

Ning Yangyang arrived at the harem just before the court session ended, as if perfectly timed. The poison in her body had taken effect. The princess had been poisoned, and Xiao Yuhuan had used this as an excuse to block the palace's exits, turning it into a hermetically sealed fortress. As her brother, Xiao Ziyi was inevitably summoned to the harem to provide for her.