Chapter 4 A Cool and Delicate Touch
It would be a lie to say I wasn't afraid.
Especially in front of someone who is more dangerous, more vigilant, more cautious, unfathomable, and infamous than ordinary people, Chi Ying was so nervous that she could hardly breathe and felt completely lost.
Fortunately, King Zhao did not make things difficult for her anymore, and only said gently, "The Queen Consort was also frightened today, so go back and rest early."
Chi Ying immediately felt relieved: "Thank you, Your Highness."
King Zhao could clearly hear a subtle hint of relief in the last syllable of her voice.
Chi Ying bowed and took her leave, then walked into the mansion.
However, she felt like she was being pricked by thorns the whole way, as if she were being firmly locked in by a tangible gaze, which pressed heavily on her back, forcing her to quicken her pace.
When she returned to Shuyuzhai, the maids in the room were terrified to see her covered in blood.
When Aunt Fangchun heard that she and King Zhao had been assassinated today, she was horrified and quickly fetched some wound medicine to apply to her wounds and bandage her up.
Chi Ying was injured on her neck. Even though the wound wasn't deep, it was still shocking to see. "The princess's earring is broken."
Chi Ying subconsciously touched her earlobe, recalling the slight cracking sound when the arrow grazed below her ear, guessing that it broke at that moment.
Fangchun took off the remaining half of the earring and put it into her dressing case.
While feeling heartbroken, she couldn't hide her surprise: "Your Highness means that not only was His Highness unharmed, but he also personally shot and killed the leader of the assassins, and that it was His Highness who broke this earring?"
Chi Ying concealed the danger of the incident and simply recounted what happened today. To Fang Chun, it sounded like a story of a princess being held hostage by assassins, with the prince rescuing her from danger.
"So, Your Highness's injuries should have healed by now."
Chi Ying pondered for a moment: "Since Your Highness can move freely, you must be out of danger."
Fangchun was taken aback, thinking that the princess had misunderstood something, and quickly explained, "His Highness was indeed seriously injured earlier, otherwise he would not have missed the wedding. Your Highness, please don't overthink it..."
She was also in a dilemma. After all, the princess had only been married into the family for three days. Telling her the truth might frighten her, but if she didn't tell her, it would be difficult to explain why her prince couldn't even attend the wedding ceremony and was still living separately from the princess.
After much thought, Fangchun decided to tell the truth: "That day, Her Majesty was not in a clear-headed state and mistook His Highness for the murderer of Prince Ding. In a moment of loss of control, she stabbed His Highness..."
Chi Ying was slightly taken aback. No wonder Aunt Fangchun kept quiet; she hadn't expected it to be Consort Zhuang.
Consort Zhuang's hysteria has become so severe that she can't even recognize her own son?
What Fangchun didn't dare tell her was that if the candlestick in the Empress's hand had been tilted by just half an inch, damaging her heart meridian, even a god descending to earth wouldn't have been able to save Prince Zhao.
It is widely rumored that His Highness's injuries are severe and difficult to treat, and that is indeed true.
However, every time the Empress had a hysterical episode, Prince Zhao would let her do as she pleased, accepting it with a smile even when she was covered in blood, and not allowing anyone to stop her.
If the injuries hadn't been so severe this time, the servants would have tried everything to persuade His Highness to get married. Seeing the loving and harmonious relationship between the couple, the Empress might have been relieved, and perhaps her illness would have improved.
Chi Ying observed her expression and guessed that King Zhao must be seriously injured, but she had seen King Zhao with her own eyes today, and he certainly did not seem to have little time left.
Perhaps this is what people often mean by "a scourge can last for a thousand years".
Recalling the thrilling arrow shot on Chengxian Street and the man's composed expression inside the carriage, Chi Ying's face paled, and her fingers unconsciously curled up.
If King Zhao doesn't die, how can she escape unscathed?
Xiangqin and Baoshan were both too frightened today, so Chiying told them to go back to their rooms to rest and asked Aunt Fangchun to help them take a bath.
Seeing her worried expression, Fangchun assumed she was afraid of Consort Zhuang's illness and comforted her, "Princess, don't be afraid. Her Highness is sometimes not very lucid, but she has many guards around her. Even if she has a hysterical episode, she won't be harmed."
Chi Ying thought to herself, "Wasn't King Zhao accidentally injured by her?"
Could it be because he was blind and couldn't avoid it in time?
Chi Ying thought this in her heart, but she couldn't say it out loud. She only said, "I didn't mean that. I'm just a little worried about my mother and Your Highness."
Aunt Fangchun smiled, feeling very gratified.
The princess is not only beautiful, but also extremely gentle and kind. This wedding was ultimately a breach of etiquette by the Prince Zhao's family, but the princess had no complaints and always spoke softly and gently. Even today, when His Highness suffered an undeserved disaster, she did not show the slightest displeasure.
Fangchun felt guilty, but also felt a pang of pity for her.
Fangchun dabbed some flower dew between her fingers and gently applied it to the princess's black hair. She lowered her eyes to admire her beautiful and charming features, her naturally alluring figure, her snow-white skin and red lips, her jade arms and slender waist. Every part of her was graceful and captivating.
Unfortunately, His Highness is blind and cannot see the Queen's beauty.
However, the princess's voice was also beautiful, delicate and soft, like pear blossom wine warming in a stove, its clear fragrance wrapped in the softness of the petals, making one's ears feel half-melted.
Just by listening to her voice, you can tell she's a beauty.
Fangchun styling her hair, then asked with a smile, "How did Your Highness feel about seeing His Highness today, Princess?"
Chi Ying's cheeks were flushed red from the steam in the clean room, making her look very much like someone who was shy.
"Your Highness... is refined, dignified, and incomparably handsome."
She uttered some flattering words, and Aunt Fangchun was indeed overjoyed: "Indeed, all the emperors of the Great Jin Dynasty have been handsome and elegant, with the bearing of dragons and phoenixes. Consort Zhuang was even more stunning in her youth. His Highness and Prince Ding are both of exceptional appearance. Even though our Highness has injured his eyes, he is still as handsome as jade, noble and refined. Moreover, His Highness is kind and gentle, and is absolutely a gentleman of impeccable manners..."
Chi Ying lowered her head and remained silent.
She acknowledged his handsome appearance, but as for his "kind nature"... that seemed far-fetched.
If she hadn't witnessed the assassin being shot through the neck with an arrow, leaving corpses strewn across Chengxian Street, she might have been deceived by his handsome and refined appearance.
Seeing the princess's beautiful eyes widen slightly, Aunt Fangchun quickly explained, "The rumors outside are not true. The people His Highness killed were all wicked and evil."
Although she, a mere servant, was not supposed to comment on the succession struggle, Aunt Fangchun did not want the Princess to misunderstand her Highness's character, so she lowered her voice and said, "His Majesty has many princes, and open and covert struggles are inevitable. Our Highness has injured his eyes because of this, and Prince Ding is even more so..."
Speaking of her sorrow, Fangchun sighed, "Rumors can destroy a person without bloodshed. Your Highness has had a hard time these past years, and Consort Zhuang has been suffering from a long-term illness. Fortunately, now that you have come, Your Highness finally has someone to accompany you."
Chi Ying pursed her lips and lowered her head guiltily.
Fangchun thought she was just embarrassed and thought it was time to invite His Highness back to Shuyu Zhai. The lady was gentle and kind, and she was naturally willing to help make things happen.
-
At the foot of the Goose Returns Tower, in the dark prison of the Prince's Mansion.
A thick, pungent smell of blood, mixed with the chilling scent of rust, filled the dark, damp torture chamber.
The three assassins on the rack were already covered in blood and flesh, their splattered skin and flesh sticking to the cold, damp wall. Their screams rose and fell, and the broken shadows cast on the blue bricks twisted and trembled, like demons from hell struggling violently.
Yan Xuecui removed the jade thumb ring from her thumb and set it aside. She then picked up a gleaming boning knife from the torture table and followed the sound to the assassin.
The boning knife in his hands was like a work of art. The blade moved slowly and methodically along the bloody flesh, finding certain acupoints. As the victim trembled violently, the tip of the knife pierced through, slowly twisting from shallow to deep.
Suddenly, the assassin's heart-wrenching screams rang in my ears, the iron chains rattled, and blood flowed across the floor tiles.
King Zhao's palm was stained with blood, yet he remained calm and composed, even finding a certain amusement in the screams, a faint smile curving his lips.
Before long, the assassin could no longer withstand the torture and confessed to the mastermind behind it all—a gang of outlaws.
There are quite a few royal relatives and nobles in the Great Jin who secretly keep assassins. Now even martial arts organizations have been drawn into the court disputes. It seems that his brothers have gone to any lengths.
King Zhao listened calmly to the confession, knowing that he would not get any more information.
As if only then realizing that the boning knife was still inside the assassin's body, a smile appeared on his lips, but his pupils were cold and indifferent: "I apologize, this king is blind and does not know if the location is correct, so I can only try inch by inch."
The assassin trembled and convulsed violently from the pain. He thought he could finally breathe a sigh of relief after revealing the mastermind, but King Zhao seemed to have no intention of letting him go.
The sharp blade sliced through his flesh, and he could even clearly hear the sound of the blade scraping against his bones. His wails, which started as painful cries, became shrill, hoarse, and distorted until he could no longer make a sound.
Although the royal guards in the dungeon were used to such bloody and brutal scenes, they still couldn't help but feel a chill run down their spines.
These trusted subordinates all knew that their master had changed his mind long before Prince Ding died in battle and Consort Zhuang fell ill.
His Highness is gentle and polite in public, but quite sinister and ruthless in private. They use torture to find out the mastermind, but His Highness seems to use it more like... a means of self-amusement.
Especially after he lost his sight, he preferred to carry out the punishments himself, as if enjoying an interesting killing game, methodically controlling the life and death of those around him.
At this moment, they didn't even dare to look into His Highness's eyes.
Some people, out of curiosity or by chance, have seen that his cold, desolate eyes always gleam with extreme pleasure when he kills, the corners of his eyes glowing with a morbid crimson, like a mandala blooming in hell, bloodthirsty and bewitching.
Your Highness seems even more so tonight than usual.
The other two died in the same way.
Once the three were completely dead, the joy in Yan Xue's ashen eyes vanished. She repeatedly wiped the sticky blood from between her fingers with a handkerchief until her knuckles turned red before she stopped.
However, tonight's torture could not completely dispel the pent-up anger within him.
The loss of sight needs to be filled by the absolute satisfaction of other senses, and killing or self-harm is the most effective way to achieve this.
Only under the dual stimulation of screams and the smell of blood, and the sound of knives rubbing against flesh and bones, could a certain inexplicable craving within the body be relieved.
He killed many people tonight, but it was still not enough. The desire surging within him seeped into his very bones and was extremely difficult to suppress.
He ran his fingertips over the handkerchief, and the cool, delicate touch of the girl's fingertips brushing against him inside the carriage came back to mind.
He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had been in contact with outsiders. Even though he was blind, he craved the sense of touch even more. He never needed anyone to serve him or help him walk. Even when he killed or tortured someone, he would never touch the body of another person with his own hands. He used a knife.
Because they disgusted him utterly.
But the woman he touched today gave him a strange feeling.
Admittedly, the strong scent of perfume and floral perfume on her body was unpleasant, but he still managed to detect her own unique fragrance, similar to orange blossom, through this vulgar and unbearable smell. It was elegant and pure, with a subtle sweetness.
When that equally gentle and delicate voice entered my ears, the sensory explosion it brought in that instant surpassed anything I had ever experienced before.
The candlelight in the torture chamber flickered in his cold, desolate pupils, like a cluster of scarlet flames igniting in the abyss.
Even now, a strange tremor still runs through my fingertips.
A note from the author:
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See you every night at 10 PM [pat on the head]
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