No one expected that Zhou Yun'an would have taken half a boatload of kerosene with him when he escaped.
The explosion's flames illuminated half the river's surface, and Xiao Cheng, carrying the injured Zhou Yun'an, jumped into the turbulent water amidst the chaos.
The two struggled through the reefs, the icy river water carrying sparks filling their nostrils, while screams rose and fell behind them.
Zhou Yun'an's right shoulder wound had turned white from being washed by the water, but he still clutched the silver bell tightly.
"Master... hold on..." Xiao Cheng felt a piercing pain from his severed finger, but he still gritted his teeth and persevered, paddling with one hand towards the reeds on the opposite bank.
When the two finally climbed ashore, Zhou Yun'an vomited several mouthfuls of river water mixed with blood.
Xiao Cheng tore off a piece of his sleeve to bandage him.
Zhou Yun'an turned his head to look at the river surface where flames were shooting into the sky.
"Good...very good..." Zhou Yun'an chuckled as he broke the arrow shaft, a manic glint in his eyes.
Three days later, at a dilapidated temple on the outskirts of Mingzhou.
Xiao Cheng knelt on the ground, bandaging Zhou Yun'an's shoulder wound. The cloth strips were soaked with blood as soon as they were wrapped around his shoulder.
"Master, should we... go back to the manor to recuperate first?" Xiao Cheng asked cautiously.
Zhou Yun'an suddenly let out a hoarse, cold laugh, which caused his wounds to reopen: "Your residence?"
"At this moment, can we still go back?"
Xiao Cheng lowered his head in silence.
He had been working undercover with his master for over a decade. To the head of the household, his master was not a son or descendant, but rather a subordinate who was willing to risk his life for him.
Going back now wouldn't make things much better than they are now.
"Pack your things." Zhou Yun'an suddenly stood up, leaning against the wall. "Let's go to the Rong Prince's Mansion."
Xiao Cheng suddenly looked up: "Master! Prince Rong, he..."
"All those retainers he keeps, aren't they all scoundrels?" Zhou Yun'an ripped off his blood-stained bandage. "What difference would two more of us make?"
That night, at the side gate of Prince Rong's mansion.
The steward, carrying a lantern, looked the two disheveled guests up and down.
"Oh, isn't this Lord Zhou?" the man deliberately raised his voice, "How did you end up in such a state?"
Xiao Cheng glared angrily, but was stopped by Zhou Yun'an.
"Thank you for your trouble, steward. Please also inform the prince for me," Zhou Yun'an said, taking out a roll of silver notes from his pocket and stuffing it into the man's arms.
——-
In the dark room of the west wing of the Rong Prince's Mansion, the smoke from sandalwood swirled, but could not conceal the tense atmosphere.
Prince Rong leaned back on the rosewood couch, his fingertips lightly tapping a white jade chess piece, looking at the uninvited guest before him with a half-smile.
"Lord Zhou, oh no—" Prince Rong deliberately dragged out the sound, "Should I address you as Young Master Zhou now? After all, Lord Zhou is already a dead man."
With a flick of his finger, the chess piece landed on the chessboard with a "thud".
Zhou Yun stood quietly by the window, moonlight casting dappled shadows on his pale face through the window frame.
After the battle of Mingzhou, he lost a lot of weight, and his cheekbones became more prominent, but his eyes remained sharp as knives.
Rain dripped down his black robe, leaving dark stains on the thick carpet.
"Your Highness is joking," Zhou Yun'an said calmly.
Prince Rong raised an eyebrow, then suddenly burst into laughter, the sound particularly jarring in the dark, enclosed room: "So, Zhou Yun'an! After such a crushing defeat in the Yuezhou grain case, you still have the nerve to come before me?"
He abruptly stopped smiling, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. "Do you know how many men I've lost in court because of your mistake? Zhang, the registrar, and the three major grain merchants of Yuezhou—all wiped out by Lu Jingze!"
Zhou Yun'an remained motionless, only his fingers twitched slightly within his sleeve: "Victory and defeat are common occurrences in war. I have come today precisely to borrow troops from Your Highness."
"Borrow troops?" Prince Rong seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world. "What do you have to borrow? You can't even protect your own secret agents and assassins, how dare you negotiate with me?"
Xiao Cheng gripped the hilt of his knife tightly in the shadows, but was stopped by a casual glance from Zhou Yun'an.
Prince Rong stood up and strode over to Zhou Yun'an, so close he could smell the faint scent of blood on him: "Let me count how many times you've been defeated by Lu Jingze? Your feigned death at the mortuary counts as one, the Yuezhou grain scandal as another, and the Peizhou massacre was even more devastating!"
He deliberately counted on his fingers, "Oh right, and Mingzhou too. You got all the woman he loved, yet you still ended up losing miserably!"
A hint of ferocity flashed in Zhou Yun'an's eyes, but it vanished in an instant.
He slightly raised his eyes to meet Prince Rong's gaze: "Your Highness has a truly excellent memory, but you've made a slight mistake—"
His voice was as soft as a viper's hiss, "I wasn't defeated by Lu Jingze."
Prince Rong was taken aback, then scoffed: "What? Can't accept defeat?"
Zhou Yun'an did not answer.
Of course, he wouldn't say that what truly caused him to repeatedly miscalculate was the woman standing behind Lu Jingze.
That seemingly gentle but actually cunning woman always manages to deliver a fatal blow when he least expects it.
He would rather swallow this humiliation and let it rot inside him.
"Your Highness," Zhou Yun'an suddenly changed the subject, "Have you ever been to the Southern Frontier?"
Prince Rong's expression changed drastically, and he took a half step back: "What do you mean?"
"It's nothing." Zhou Yun'an took out a silk handkerchief from his bosom and slowly wiped non-existent dust from his hands. "I was just reminded of an old story. Eighteen years ago, a saintess from another race was betrayed by a heartless man. She swore an oath that if she could bring back his head, her entire race would be at his beck and call."
The temperature in the dark room seemed to drop suddenly.
Prince Rong's temples bulged with veins as he slammed his fist on the table: "Zhou Yun'an! Do you really think I wouldn't dare kill you?"
"Of course Your Highness dares," Zhou Yun'an said with a slight smile. "But if you kill me, that robe you hid in the Western Hills villa tomorrow... embroidered with a five-clawed golden dragon, will probably appear on the Emperor's desk."
Prince Rong was struck dumb, his face turning from red to white, and then from white to blue.
After a long pause, he suddenly burst into laughter, but there was no joy left in his voice: "Good, very good! Zhou Yun'an!"
Zhou Yun'an remained noncommittal, simply waiting quietly.
Prince Rong suddenly turned around, took out a talisman from a hidden compartment, and threw it on the table: "Five hundred assassins, is that enough?"
He said through gritted teeth, "This is the last time."
Zhou Yun'an put away the military tally and bowed: "Thank you, Your Highness. In return, the missing grain from the Yuezhou official granary will appear in your private grain depot in three days."
Prince Rong narrowed his eyes: "You planned this all along? You even thought of a way out if you failed?"
"A chess player always has a backup plan," Zhou Yun'an said meaningfully, glancing at the scattered chess pieces on the ground. "Especially when facing... an opponent who doesn't play by the rules."
Prince Rong suddenly felt a chill.
The man in front of him, who seemed to have no way out, might be more dangerous than he imagined.
It was at this moment that he became even more determined to get rid of Lu Jingze as soon as possible after he had dealt with him!
"Zhou Yun'an," Prince Rong suddenly called out to the man who was about to leave, "Is what you said true?"
Zhou Yun'an paused slightly, but didn't turn around: "Your Highness is asking about that alien saintess?"
"The hatred of the extermination of our clan is, of course, real."
In the rain, Zhou Yun'an's figure gradually disappeared into the distance.
Prince Rong stood by the window, crushing the teacup in his hand with a "crack".
A shard of porcelain cut his palm, and blood mixed with tea dripped onto the ground.
In the distance, Zhou Yun'an coughed violently as soon as he turned the corner, spitting a mouthful of black blood onto the damp stone slab, which was quickly washed away by the rain.
Xiao Cheng hurriedly supported him: "Master!"
"It's alright." Zhou Yun'an wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes flashing with a sinister light as he looked towards the direction of the Prince Jing's residence. "Let's go back."
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