Chapter 3, "Is the Princess looking at me?"...
Chi Ying was in a state of turmoil, not ready to meet King Zhao, especially given the possibility that he was being assassinated.
If the assassin discovers that she is also here, wouldn't that be an undeserved disaster?
Chi Ying took a deep breath, and in her panic, she made up her mind and immediately instructed the coachman: "We can't help, so let's stop further away so as not to become a burden to His Highness."
The coachman agreed wholeheartedly and was about to urge his horse to take a detour, but this action unexpectedly alerted the assassin who was already showing signs of weakness.
The leader of the men in black fixed his gaze on the emblem on the carriage at the street corner and shouted, "It's a carriage from the Prince Zhao's residence!"
As soon as the words were spoken, not only did the assassins' eyes gleam, but even the guards of Prince Zhao's mansion paused slightly.
The only person in the world who could use the carriage of Prince Zhao's residence was Consort Zhuang, but the Consort had not left the residence for several years. So who was in this carriage...?
The group exchanged glances and immediately remembered that His Highness's wife had entered the palace just a few days ago... Could it be this woman?
In a moment of hesitation, a horse neighed from the opposite direction, followed by the coachman being kicked to the ground. A scream erupted from inside the carriage, and a woman in an apricot-pink long gown was pulled off by the assassin. Her slender, snow-white neck was pressed against the gleaming blade, and the hair ornament in her hair clattered and broke with her unsteady movements.
The assassin, cornered and desperate, shouted at the dark blue brocade carriage opposite him, "The princess is in my hands. If Your Highness wants her to be safe, let us leave immediately, or I will make her bleed to death!"
Chi Ying felt her eardrums buzzing. She never thought she would be in this situation. It turned out that being forced into marriage was not the worst thing. She might die a violent death today!
The cold, sharp blade pressed tightly against his neck. With the assassin's ferocious roar, the blade pressed down, leaving a bloody gash, due to the uncontrollable trembling of his hand.
Chi Ying was nearly suffocating. The cold light reflected from the blade shone in her pupils, and she could even smell a faint scent of rust. She subconsciously looked at the brocade carriage opposite her.
The evening breeze was chilly, and the golden bells on the eaves of the carriage swayed slightly in the wind, exuding a cold and menacing aura.
At that moment, a very soft laugh came from inside the curtain. Like a ripple casually stirred by the night breeze, it was cool and clear, seemingly indifferent, yet remarkably distinct in the quiet street.
The attitude is already obvious.
Chi Ying closed her eyes, feeling a cold, sharp pain in her neck.
Having no other option, she could only try to speak up to save herself: "As you can see, holding me hostage is useless. Prince Zhao and I have never had a wedding ceremony, nor have we consummated our marriage. We have never even met, so we cannot be considered husband and wife..."
The assassin leader instantly gritted his teeth.
They recently received news that King Zhao was seriously injured and that he was going out tonight, which was the perfect opportunity to assassinate him. However, King Zhao was well prepared and his secret guards were top-notch. Their group suffered heavy casualties and was almost completely tortured to death.
Thinking of this, the assassin leader's face twisted into a ferocious expression, his hot, foul breath brushing against Chi Ying's ear as he shouted sharply, "Your Highness, this marriage was bestowed by His Majesty. If the princess dies within three days of the wedding, I'm afraid Your Highness will not be able to explain it, will you? Let us go, or my blade will not be merciless..."
Before the words were finished, the wind howled, the dark blue curtain of the carriage was briefly lifted, revealing a corner of a black gold robe, and then a silver-white cold light pierced through the night sky with a "whoosh" and went straight for Chi Ying's pupils!
It felt like a thunderclap exploded inside her head. Chi Ying's whole body tensed up, and she was drenched in cold sweat. She almost thought she was going to die from the silver arrow.
Just as she felt a slight pain in her earlobe, a dull, short sound of an arrow piercing flesh rang out behind her, accompanied by the assassin's abruptly stopped scream of pain. Chi Ying's pupils contracted sharply, and she almost stopped breathing.
Two breaths later, the assassin behind him collapsed to the ground.
The arrow pierced her throat, blood splattered, and Chi Ying's vision was filled with blood, even her eyelashes were covered with blood beads.
After a long while, Chi Ying regained her senses and turned around, only to see that the cold arrow had struck the assassin in the neck.
Blood flowed like a river beneath the man, his eyes wide open in fury, dying with his eyes wide open in despair.
Xiangqin and Baoshan were both maids from wealthy families, and they had never seen such a bloody scene before. They were both so frightened that they screamed.
Chi Ying's face was deathly pale, and she dug her nails into the soft flesh of her palms to suppress the suffocating fear in her heart.
The remaining assassins were leaderless; only three were left alive, and the rest were all killed on the spot.
Chi Ying stood frozen in place, her slender body trembling slightly.
The carriage slowly approached, its wheels grinding over the gravel, producing a long, hoarse sound. As it passed by, its large body cast a heavy shadow, like a bloodthirsty beast enveloping her slender frame.
The head guard, following King Zhao's instructions, stepped forward, cupped his hands, and said, "Your Highness, please invite the Princess to the carriage."
Chi Ying turned to look at the carriage she was in. The carriage shaft was broken, the coachman was unconscious on the ground, and the two maids were frightened.
Her face was ashen, and she tried her best to suppress the trembling in her voice: "I... I can go back by myself, there's no need for Your Highness to trouble yourself..."
To be on the safe side, it would be best for her to reduce contact with King Zhao.
If that arrow had missed by even half an inch, she would have been the one dead.
She hadn't figured out how to live under the same roof as someone who had almost killed her.
However, the person inside the car did not respond for a long time, as if they were very patient.
Chi Ying stood frozen, feeling as if the golden bells on the eaves were a death knell, each sound striking her heart.
The guard glanced at the carriage, his words already urging, "Your Highness, please get in the carriage. Don't keep His Highness waiting."
Chi Ying gritted her teeth, knowing there was no way to avoid it, so she had no choice but to bite the bullet and board the carriage.
As fingertips slowly lifted the carriage curtain, the cool and mellow scent of kalanchoe wafted into the nose.
Chi Ying raised her eyes and finally saw her husband in name only.
The man wore a dark gold brocade robe with subtle patterns. His handsome, pale face was hidden in the dim light, which made his features appear even sharper. He had deep-set features, light lips, and an air of composure. He had the natural aura of a superior, which was awe-inspiring.
In particular, he was also playing with a delicate crossbow between his fingertips.
Chi Ying recalled the arrow that had pierced the assassin's neck and instinctively shuddered.
Wasn't he blind for a long time? How could he be so accurate...?
Lost in thought, she was completely unaware that she had been watching him for far too long.
It wasn't until the man gently reminded her, "Won't the Princess sit down?"
Her clear, cool voice had a texture like jade breaking in Kunshan or bamboo being broken by spring snow, gently washing over the ears and inexplicably making one's heart tremble.
Chi Ying quickly snapped out of her daze and bowed respectfully: "...This humble servant greets Your Highness."
She pronounced the words "妾身" with great difficulty.
King Zhao nodded: "Hmm."
Chi Ying swallowed hard and sat down in the corner of the curtained room, trying to keep her distance from him.
But her gaze still unconsciously drifted toward King Zhao, secretly looking into his eyes.
Previously, I only knew that he was gloomy and cold-hearted, but I never imagined that he would have such an incomparably beautiful appearance.
His eyebrows were slightly lowered, and his gray pupils were shrouded in a deep twilight, like incense ash that had burned out. His eyelashes were long, casting a light shadow on his eyelids. His gaze was slightly unfocused, and he was leaning against a bamboo cane inlaid with black jade. He was undoubtedly blind.
"Is the Princess looking at me?" King Zhao suddenly asked.
Chi Ying trembled, and then she saw a faint smile on his lips. His gaze fell vacantly, clearly not looking at her at all, yet his clear and indifferent eyes seemed to see through everything.
He was still waiting for her reply.
Chi Ying suppressed her fear and carefully said, "I heard that Your Highness is seriously injured and bedridden. I never expected to see you here."
A faint smile escaped King Zhao's throat: "If the assassin hadn't reminded me, I would have forgotten that the day before yesterday was my wedding day. I couldn't personally greet the princess that day. I hope the princess won't hold a grudge against me?"
Chi Ying: "...This concubine dares not. Your Highness is seriously injured, and this concubine will naturally understand. I was flustered just now and misspoke."
King Zhao nodded: "The Queen Consort is indeed understanding and considerate."
Chi Ying's face turned pale, unsure how to respond.
The killing outside continued. It seemed that one of the men in black who had fallen to the ground had faked his death, intending to return and report the news, but was killed by the guards of the Prince's Palace with several blows.
Inside the carriage, the man looked relaxed, a faint smile playing on his lips, as if the dozens of corpses outside were nothing more than objects to amuse him.
Chi Ying recalled the rumors circulating about King Zhao, saying that he was sinister and bloodthirsty, like a demon god descended to earth. Chi Yingyue was even more terrified when King Zhao was mentioned, as if she wanted to avoid him at all costs.
And she saw it for herself today; King Zhao was nothing like the rumored figure of someone critically injured and on the verge of death. He was clearly...
Chi Ying dared not look directly at his face, lowered her eyes, and her gaze inadvertently fell on his hand that was caressing the bowstring.
His fingers were slender and long, adorned with a jade thumb ring. The white and translucent knuckles were slightly reddish, and the veins on the back of his hand had a sharp, cutting quality. He seemed completely unaware as the bowstring pressed a startling red mark into his fingertips.
King Zhao noticed her gaze, his fingers twitched slightly, and he smiled again: "What is the Princess Consort still looking at?"
Chi Ying trembled, her legs almost giving way: "Your Highness, please forgive me, I..."
"What crime has the princess committed?"
King Zhao said leisurely, "I just didn't know that the Queen Consort was so curious about me."
"I dare not."
Chi Ying pursed her lips tightly, not daring to look up again.
As the carriage drove away, the screams and the stench of blood outside gradually faded into the distance.
King Zhao heard the soft tinkling of the woman's earrings beside him, noticing a difference between the two. Suddenly remembering something, he took out a handkerchief from his sleeve, paused, and handed it to her: "Is the Princess injured?"
As she finished speaking, a sharp pain surged up from the side of her neck. Chi Ying subconsciously reached out and touched it, her fingertips stained with a smear of bright red blood.
King Zhao loved cleanliness, as Aunt Fangchun had said—
Blind people are particularly sensitive to smells, so she needs to call someone to clean up afterwards. The saliva and smell must not remain in the room, so as not to disturb His Highness's sleep.
Just now, he must have smelled the blood on her.
Unfortunately, her handkerchief was left on the carriage when she was kidnapped by the assassins.
Chi Ying hesitated for a moment, then reached out and took it: "Thank you, Your Highness."
As she took the handkerchief, her fingertips accidentally brushed against the man's fingers. The cool, jade-like touch startled her so much that she recoiled as if she had been electrocuted.
Fortunately, the wound on her neck was not deep, and only a little blood seeped out. Chi Ying slowly wiped it clean, and then carefully wiped the bloodstains from the side of her face and the corner of her eyes.
Like the other person, this handkerchief carries the warm, cool scent of kalanchoe.
However, the gods and Buddhas are merciful and save all living beings, but this handkerchief is stained with glaring bloodstains.
It's hard to tell whether it's a fragrance or a malevolent aura.
Chi Ying folded the handkerchief neatly and said softly, "I'll wash it and return it to Your Highness later."
King Zhao rubbed his fingers together, where a faint warmth still lingered. It felt like some invisible, intangible itch was seeping into his skin. He frowned, a barely perceptible hint of anger flashing between his brows.
The carriage slowly came to a stop outside the Prince Zhao's residence.
Chi Ying began to feel anxious even before leaving Chengxian Street, wondering whether she should help Prince Zhao out of the carriage when they arrived at the gate of the mansion.
King Zhao was blind, and as his queen, she was obligated to serve him.
But deep down, she didn't want to have too much contact with King Zhao. He was more dangerous than she imagined, and the more she said, the more mistakes she would make. It was better to keep her distance.
After much thought, Chi Ying finally came up with an explanation: "My hands are dirty, and I'm afraid they might offend Your Highness. Please ask Your Highness's personal guard to lend a hand."
King Zhao grasped the bamboo cane beside him, his voice tinged with amusement: "The Queen Consort is indeed very thoughtful."
Chi Ying felt there was a hint of mockery in those words, so she didn't dare to think about it further and quickly got off the carriage.
King Zhao then leaned down, tapped the ground with his bamboo cane, and slowly got out of the carriage. Without any assistance, he walked steadily and smoothly, almost like an ordinary person, except for his slow movements.
A gentle evening breeze blew, and the moonlight was like water. The man's tall and handsome figure was enveloped in a silvery halo, making him appear even more divine and elegant. There was no sign of a dying man in his every move.
He lightly tapped his bamboo cane, slowly approaching, his dark and solitary figure gradually encroaching upon the moonlight beneath her feet.
Chi Ying felt a tightness and oppression in her chest, and a chill ran down her spine. She silently took two steps back.
Unexpectedly, he noticed it so easily.
The man's lips curled into a half-smile: "Is the princess afraid of me?"
A note from the author:
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