Chapter 89 The substitute bride's mind was filled with lewd thoughts.
As dusk deepened, the distant sky still held a last vestige of crimson, while the lights of the royal tent area had merged into one, illuminating the surroundings as if it were daytime.
With Fangru by his side, Ah Qi, like two shadows blending into the night, stealthily made his way towards the heavily guarded area.
The closer you get, the more obvious the strange feeling in the air becomes.
At first, it was just a faint, intermittent chanting. As the distance closed, the sound gradually coalesced into a deep and penetrating wave of sound, mixed with the rhythmic, crisp striking of the ceremonial bell and the dull thumping of a kind of leather drum, like the heartbeat of the earth, carrying a primal, unsettling power, spreading in the evening breeze.
Fangru unconsciously wrapped her slightly thin coat tighter around herself, not because of the cold, but because the voice seemed to penetrate her bones, bringing an invisible pressure.
Ah Qi, who was walking ahead, seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. Without warning, he stopped and turned to wait for her to approach.
He said nothing, but simply reached out and gently placed his dry, warm palm on the back of her slightly cool hand, giving it a brief squeeze.
The movement was extremely fast, carrying an undeniable reassuring power, and then it was released, as if it were just an unconscious action.
Then, he gestured for her to follow closely, using his body to completely shield her from the view from the direction of the royal tent.
They used every inch of the terrain for cover.
First, she crawled across a sandy area covered with tenacious camel thorns. The sharp plants scratched the back of Fangru's hand, leaving a few thin bloodstains. She frowned in pain, but bit her lower lip tightly, not daring to make a sound.
Ah Qi glanced back and saw this, his eyes narrowing slightly. The next time he guided her to a place to land, he would deliberately avoid those thorny areas.
Finally, a huge rock, eroded by wind and sand with countless holes and shadows, appeared in front of us, like a crouching behemoth, providing an excellent observation point.
Ah Qi nimbly climbed up to a depression at the bottom of the rock, then turned around and reached out his hand to Fang Ru.
His arms were steady and strong; with a gentle lift, he pulled her up and placed her in the most secluded corner beside him.
“Wait here,” he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her earlobe. “Remember, no matter what you see, don’t make a sound or move. Trust me.”
He spoke the last three words calmly and confidently, as if stating an undeniable fact.
Fangru looked up and met his eyes, which were so close to hers. In those deep pupils, she saw no trace of panic, only a hunting calm and focus.
She nodded vigorously, curling herself even deeper into the shadows, her heart pounding in her chest.
She watched as Ah Qi, like a nimble leopard, silently slid down the rocks, landing with barely a speck of dust.
He straightened his coarse cloth clothes, and when he looked up again, his entire demeanor had changed.
His back was slightly hunched, and a smile mixed with fear, dullness, and ingratiation was on his face. His eyes also became blank, making him look exactly like a lost and timid villager.
He rubbed his hands together, and walked hesitantly toward two soldiers standing guard with their hands on their swords not far away. He stammered in his heavily accented local dialect, pointing haphazardly into the distance as if anxiously asking something.
The two soldiers were clearly impatient; one of them even waved him away as if shooing a fly.
But Ah Qi did not back down. He put on an even more humble smile, bowing and scraping as he spoke, while subtly using body language and gestures to guide the two soldiers whose attention was beginning to wander, step by step, towards the dead poplar tree next to him, whose gnarled branches were enough to block their view.
Fangru's heart jumped into her throat.
Her view was completely blocked by the thick tree trunk, and she could see nothing. She could only stare intently at the shadowy area, straining her ears to catch any subtle sounds: the wind, the distant chanting, the crackling of the campfire... but there was no sound of fighting or shouting as she had expected.
Time stretched out infinitely in the midst of extreme tension.
She felt as if several hours had passed, but in reality it was probably only the time it took to breathe a dozen times.
A barrage of terrifying thoughts flooded her mind uncontrollably: Had he been subdued? Killed? Or had he attracted more soldiers? Cold sweat trickled down her back.
Just as she was so anxious that she was about to peek out recklessly, a familiar figure calmly emerged from behind the tree—it was Ah Qi!
He had changed into a slightly narrow set of soldier's leather armor, his movements were fluid and natural, and there was not even a trace of a fight on his face.
He quickly and precisely scanned the surroundings, his gaze as sharp as ever, and then, with utmost subtlety, gave a "safe, come over" signal towards the rocks.
Fangru slid down the rocks almost on her hands and feet, staggering to the back of a tree.
The two soldiers lay limp on the ground, their eyes closed and their breathing steady, as if they had fallen into a deep sleep. Their outer armor and helmets had been neatly removed and placed aside.
"Quick, put this on." Ah Qi handed her another set of armor that still carried the warmth of a stranger's body, his tone calm and swift, while he vigilantly watched the movements outside.
Fangru hurriedly put on the heavy leather armor that smelled of sweat and leather.
The armor was clearly ill-fitting, hanging loosely on her.
Seeing this, Ah Qi quickly bent down and deftly helped her adjust her shoulder straps and tighten the buckle on her waist. His fingers were nimble and strong, and his movements were swift and efficient.
Finally, he placed a rather large helmet on her head, carefully pressing down the brim until it covered most of her face, leaving only her tense, pursed lips and a small section of her chin visible.
"Remember, stay close to me, keep your pace steady, and don't look around. We are patrolling soldiers now."
He whispered instructions, then adjusted the angle of his helmet one last time, allowing the shadow to better conceal his overly sharp gaze.
The two exchanged a glance, took a deep breath, lowered their bodies, and blended into the moving figures and interplay of light and shadow at the edge of the camp.
The camp was far more noisy and chaotic inside than it appeared from the outside, filled with a frenzied sense of ritual.
The huge campfire was burning, and the leaping flames cast swaying shadows onto the tents, like menacing ghosts.
Wearing hideous and terrifying masks and dressed in colorful robes, the wizards, like tireless ghosts, danced and spun wildly around the most magnificent royal tent in the center, a symbol of power and death. Their chanting mingled with the noise of conch shells and drums, creating a sound wave that almost ripped the eardrums, assaulting people's minds.
The air was filled with the strong scent of sandalwood and burning pine trees, as well as a faint, cloying sweet smell that emanated from the decaying corpse. The mixture of smells was nauseating.
Fangru forced herself to lower her head, her eyes fixed on the dusty heels of Ah Qi's boots in front of her, trying to imitate his steady pace so that she wouldn't look out of place.
The heavy armor rubbed against her shoulders and armpits with every step, causing a slight stinging pain. The helmet pressed painfully against her forehead, but she dared not reach out to adjust it, fearing that even the slightest movement would arouse suspicion.
She could clearly feel the casual or scrutinizing gazes of the soldiers around her, each one like a needle pricking her back.
Ah Qi, however, seemed perfectly at home.
He cleverly used the shadows of every tent, every supply wagon piled high with provisions, and even every servant or wizard hurrying by as cover, leading her through this dangerous area in a circuitous manner.
His pace was sometimes swift, sometimes halting, and every turn and change of speed was perfectly timed, always allowing him to precisely avoid main patrol routes and densely populated areas.
He seemed to have some kind of innate intuition about the layout of this camp.
However, trouble always comes unexpectedly.
Just as they rounded a tent piled high with hay bales that smelled fresh, they bumped into a patrol team of four.
The soldiers' armor was clearly superior, and the squad leader's eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, his gaze sweeping over Ah Qi and Fang Ru with a professional scrutiny and suspicion.
Fangru's body instantly stiffened like a stone, her steps instinctively stopped, and even her breathing ceased.
In that split second, Ah Qi made a move.
Without the slightest hesitation, he nudged Fangru's back with his elbow with an extremely light yet undeniably forceful motion. At the same time, without changing the direction of his feet, he made a muffled response, as if greeting other patrol teams, and then very naturally turned to a relatively secluded path that seemed to lead to the logistics kitchen area.
The entire movement was fluid and seamless, without the slightest flaw, as if this was the path they were originally going to take.
Fangru's heart pounded wildly. Almost instinctively, she followed him into a side path, frantically praying that she could escape this calamity.
Unfortunately, fate seemed determined to test them.
At the end of this narrow, even somewhat greasy, path stood an imposing officer dressed as a centurion, with a magnificent scimitar at his waist.
The officer, with his back to them, was speaking in hushed tones with a man dressed as a shamanic apprentice. Seemingly hearing unexpected footsteps behind him, he frowned, turned around with displeasure, and his gaze, like two cold knives, precisely locked onto the two "sneaky" soldiers.
"Halt!" The centurion's voice was gruff, carrying the authority honed from years of issuing orders. "Which team are you from? What are you doing here instead of being on guard duty?!" His gaze swept back and forth between Ah Qi and Fang Ru, growing increasingly suspicious.
Fangru felt a chill run from the soles of her feet straight to the top of her head, as if the blood in her limbs and bones had frozen instantly.
She kept her head down, as if she wanted to bury her face deep into the helmet. Even her fingertips were trembling slightly uncontrollably, and her mind was blank.
A close call!
Ah Qi stepped forward half a step, naturally shielding Fang Ru, whose body was trembling slightly, completely behind him, blocking her from the centurion's scrutinizing gaze.
His voice, hidden beneath his helmet, instantly became hoarse and rapid, even carrying a perfectly measured mix of panic and panting, as if he had just been running wildly:
"Sir! Something terrible has happened! Suspicious traces have been found near the rubble pile on the west side of the outer perimeter! We're short-handed, and we're afraid someone has infiltrated. We've been sent back immediately to report and request reinforcements!"
As he spoke, he pointed in the direction they had come from, his tone extremely anxious, perfectly portraying a soldier who had discovered an urgent military situation and was eager to report it. Even his chest heaved violently under deliberate control.
"Suspicious traces?" The centurion's expression changed abruptly, his attention completely drawn, and he leaned forward slightly. "Did you see clearly? Who are they? How many?" The shamanic apprentice behind him also looked nervous.
“It’s too dark, and we’re too far away to see clearly,” Ah Qi answered quickly and confidently, his tone tinged with urgency. “But there are definitely figures moving around in the pile of rocks, and more than one! They’re moving very fast and furtively!”
He knew perfectly well that the two soldiers he had skillfully knocked unconscious and stripped of their armor were now firmly bound in a hidden sandpit behind a dead tree, their mouths gagged with rags. They might not be discovered for a while, not even by dawn. If the centurion led his men there now, they would surely find nothing, but the "suspicious trail" alarm had already been sounded, enough to distract them and buy them precious time.
The military situation was urgent and could not be delayed in the slightest.
The centurion stopped investigating why the two "soldiers" happened to pass by. He immediately shouted to the patrol that had just approached behind him, "You guys, come with me to check to the west! Quickly!" He had already made up his mind. If they were indeed spies, he would capture them; if it was a false alarm, he would investigate thoroughly and not allow any mishaps to occur during the ritual.
Immediately, he ordered Ah Qi and Fang Ru in a very fast voice, "You two, go ahead and find the chief shaman who is in charge of the ritual. Report the situation to him in person! Ask him to immediately send more shamans and guards to prevent any scoundrels from sneaking in and disrupting the ritual! Go now, and don't make a mistake!"
"Yes, sir!" Ah Qi responded loudly, his voice carrying just the right amount of solemnity, as if he were receiving an important military order.
He pulled Fangru, who was almost frozen like a statue, and walked quickly past the centurion with his head down, heading towards the inner part of the royal tent with steady yet rapid steps.
Only after passing two tents piled with miscellaneous items, completely shutting out the noise behind her, the sharp gaze, and the possible questioning, did Fangru feel the breath she had been holding in for so long, which had almost suffocated her, suddenly burst out of her throat with a soft sob.
Her legs went weak and she almost fell, but luckily Ah Qi reached out and supported her arm in time; the strength was steady and reliable.
She leaned against the rough tent canvas, her chest heaving violently from lack of oxygen, her back completely soaked in cold sweat.
She turned her head and looked at the man beside her through the oppressive edge of the heavy helmet.
Ah Qi stood there quietly, as if the terrifying scene that had just occurred to her, which had made her heart stop, was nothing more than a trivial and commonplace episode.
He even had the leisure to reach out and gently straighten her tilted helmet, his movements as natural as if he were adjusting his own equipment.
His breathing was steady and long, and his eyes, though in the shadow of his helmet, remained as sharp as a falcon aiming at its prey.
He turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on her still-shaken face. He lowered his voice, a voice with a strange, soothing power that clearly reached her ears:
“Stay close to me, don’t be afraid.” He paused, then added, his tone carrying a strong confidence, as if stating a given fact, “I’m here.”
As Fangru gazed at his exceptionally clear profile in the darkness, her wildly beating heart strangely and gradually calmed down.
She took a deep breath and nodded.
Ah Qi withdrew his gaze and turned it back to the core area, which was the brightest and most dangerous, his eyes becoming cold and focused once again.
“Let’s go,” he whispered, like a sigh, or a command. “The real trouble is still waiting for us inside.”
After saying that, he led Fangru into the shadows of a pile of miscellaneous items on the side of the royal tent.
He gestured for her to be quiet, while he, like a lurking cheetah, quietly observed the movement at the side entrance, confirming that the two guards had not noticed anything amiss and that their attention remained elsewhere.
“Come with me.” His voice was so low it was almost a whisper, his warm breath brushing against her ear. Then, he reached out, not to pull her roughly, but to firmly support her elbow, offering support and guidance the moment she took a step, leading her like a fish gliding into water, precisely and silently slipping into the gap of the heavy felt curtain.
The difference between inside and outside the tent is a sudden and abrupt shift in sensory perception.
The light was almost entirely swallowed up, with only a few scattered tallow lamps and light diffused through layers of curtains in the central area providing illumination, casting large, swaying shadows.
The intense aroma of spices seemed to take on a physical form, pressing heavily on my chest, attempting to mask something deeper, something more undeniable—the coldness and stagnation inherent in death itself.
The frenzied chanting and clanging of magical implements by the wizards in the central region created a reverberation that pounded against the eardrums, making the eerie, unsettling silence of the peripheral area where they were located all the more apparent.
Fang unconsciously held her breath, her heart pounding heavily in her chest.
She involuntarily took a step closer to Ah Qi, almost able to feel the steady and warm breath emanating from his body, which became the only perceptible source of warmth in this cold and gloomy place.
She looked up and saw that the interior of the huge royal tent was indeed cleverly divided into sections. The heavy felt curtains and simple wooden structure formed an intricate labyrinth, with narrow passages leading into the unknown darkness.
"What...what should we do now?" She finally found her voice, lowered to a whisper, with a hint of dependence she herself didn't realize. "This place is like a maze...and how am I supposed to find clues?"
She paused, remembering the purpose of her trip, and her tone became tinged with anxiety, "I haven't studied autopsy." She raised her eyes and looked at the man beside her, whose jawline appeared particularly resolute in the dim light, a faint hope lingering in her heart, "I hope you have studied it."
Ah Qi did not answer immediately.
His figure was as steady as a rock, but his gaze was as sharp as a knife. He slowly scanned the layout of the passageway in front of him, his ears twitching almost imperceptibly, like the most alert nocturnal animal, capturing the subtle sounds coming from different directions: the chanting of wizards in the distance, the occasional footsteps nearby, the slight clinking of utensils, and even the sound of fabric rubbing together.
A few breaths later, he turned his head, his eyes calm and still beneath his helmet, and met her hopeful gaze. He said frankly, "I won't test it either."
"What?" Fangru was startled. The faint flame of hope in her heart flickered and was about to be extinguished. A trace of panic rose in her heart.
They don't know how to perform an autopsy? Then what were they risking their lives to infiltrate this place? Were they just there to pay their respects, or... walked right into a trap?
As if able to read all her unspoken questions, Ah Qi's voice remained steady and deep, carrying a strange, calming power that clearly reached her ears in the oppressive space: "The prince has been dead for several days. If an examination were to be conducted, the Khan and his officials and accompanying physicians would surely have already examined him repeatedly. If there is a known cause of death, it would be strictly kept secret; if not, it would not be up to us two outsiders to discover it so easily."
"Then what exactly are we here for?" Fangru was even more confused, her voice carrying a hint of imperceptible urgency, even a touch of discouragement. "Are we just going to risk finding someone close to the prince and asking him if the prince has been eating well and sleeping soundly lately? What real culprit can be found out from such abnormalities in his daily life?"
She could hardly believe that such a huge effort was made for such a trivial and hopeless inquiry.
“Not only.” Ah Qi shook his head gently, his gaze returning to the deep passage, like an experienced guide beginning to dissect this seemingly chaotic maze for her.
He did not rush into action, but patiently analyzed the situation step by step in a voice that only the two of them could hear.
“Look over there,” he gestured slightly to the side, pointing to a small room to their right rear, completely covered by a thick blanket. There seemed to be some dried herbal remnants scattered on the floor near the doorway, and a faint bitter smell emanated from it. “There, the smells are mixed, with mugwort, sulfur, and several other root smells that are hard to identify. It must be a temporary place where the shaman or physician prepared medicine and rested. The people inside might know what medicines the prince used in his lifetime, whether he had any adverse reactions, or even… whether they themselves noticed any drug interactions or the presence of unknown drugs.”
His voice was not loud, but every word was clear, giving profound meaning to what seemed like an ordinary scene.
Then, his gaze shifted to another, slightly wider passage, where he could faintly hear the soft clattering of earthenware pots against metal utensils, along with a faint smell of milk and the greasy aroma of cooled meat.
"Judging from the sound and smelling the odor, that must be the place where the servants in charge of the prince's meals rest or deal with the kitchen waste. Every meal and every cup of milk tea for the prince must pass through their hands. They probably know very well who prepares the food, who tastes the poison, who serves it, whether there are any oversights in the process, or whether any unfamiliar faces have approached the stove."
Finally, his gaze fell deeper into the darkness, where the light was even dimmer. But with the keen senses of a martial artist, he could detect several auras that were more composed and refined than those of the outer guards, standing guard like boulders in a certain place.
"Further inside, near the central mortuary, besides those sorcerers who pretend to be shamans, there must also be the prince's closest guards and eunuchs who served him. They were the last people the prince had contact with before his death. Who the prince saw before he died, what he said, whether his emotions were abnormal, and even... whether he showed unease or fear when no one was watching, they could all be unintentional witnesses."
He spoke slowly and logically, as if unfolding an invisible map before Fangru, clearly dividing the tent, filled with an atmosphere of death and mystery, into areas with different functions and potential sources of information.
He not only pointed out the locations, but also identified the types of clues and related figures that might be hidden in each location, demonstrating not only keen observation skills, but also a profound understanding of human nature and the core operating rules of power.
Fangru listened quietly, her gaze following his directions as it moved in the dim light, as if she could truly "see" the figures and secrets hidden behind the curtain.
The panic she felt due to the unknown was gradually soothed by his calm voice and clear thinking, replaced by a deepening and indescribable admiration.
This man's danger and power lie not only in his physical strength, but also in his mind, which seems to see through all the fog.
Just as her emotions were churning, Ah Qi gently touched her arm and led her forward a few steps silently, stopping behind a corner formed by a huge curtain embroidered with an eagle pattern.
He gestured for her to carefully peek out through the gap in the curtains.
My perspective suddenly opened up.
The central area of the royal tent came into view, brightly lit with countless oil lamps and candles illuminating everything as if it were daytime.
Prince Arslan's body was laid on a high platform covered with snow-white lambskin and a magnificent gold-embroidered carpet, surrounded by flags and totems representing his status and military achievements.
Several sorcerers dressed in elaborate and bizarre robes and wearing blue-faced, fanged masks were dancing and leaping around the spirit bed in an almost frenzied manner. They shook bone bells loudly, splashed holy water continuously, and chanted ancient and obscure prayers, as if they were having a fierce negotiation with the god of death.
Fangru's gaze passed through the swaying figures and landed on the still silhouette of the high platform.
Prince Arslen, the name Zhou Muchen mentioned many times, the young leader hailed as the "Pearl of the Grasslands".
She remembered the admiration in Zhou Muchen's eyes when he spoke of him, and the legends about his reforms of the tribe and his bravery in battle. Now, the legends have come to an abrupt end.
She came to the Northern Barbarians to seek refuge with Prince Arsleng, following Zhou Muchen. But in just a few days, Zhou Muchen had been brutally killed by Zhou Ling's arrows, and the prince who had once been so highly regarded had also become a cold corpse.
She herself became the prime suspect in the murder of this important figure, and was forced to be tied to this man whose identity was unpredictable, dangerous, yet exceptionally reliable at crucial moments. She struggled in this perilous situation, her future uncertain and her life hanging by a thread.
A sense of absurdity and powerlessness overwhelmed her like a cold tide.
She clenched her fists instinctively, her nails digging deep into her soft palms. The sharp pain was the only thing that managed to pull her back from the surging sorrow and memories to the reality where every breath felt dangerous.
Ah Qi stood right next to her, so close that he could feel her body tense up instantly and her slight trembling.
He didn't ask any questions, nor did he make any frivolous moves. He simply stood silently beside her, his figure becoming more stable, like a silent barrier. Only after confirming that she had calmed down a bit did he shift his gaze from the prince's remains to the servants and guards surrounding the bier, each with a different expression.
After a moment of focused attention, he keenly caught a fleeting glimpse of a figure through the gap in the curtains—a servant carrying documents, hurrying away. This detail caused his eyes to flicker, but he subtly withdrew his gaze and turned to Fangru beside him.
"It's time to go." He lowered his voice so much that it almost blended into the wizards' chanting.
As he spoke, he took the first step, not retracing his steps, but choosing a side path half-hidden by heavy curtains. His gait remained steady and composed, as if he knew this intricate area inside and out.
Fangru immediately understood and quickly followed. The two of them silently disappeared into the shadows behind the curtain, isolating themselves from the noisy ritual behind them.
At the end of the side passageway was a slightly cramped cubicle.
The air here seems to have settled down, lacking the fervent incense smell of the central area, and instead filled with the cool aroma of aged leather, ink sticks, and paper.
A lone tallow lamp sat on the corner of the table, its flame flickering uneasily, cutting the limited space into fragments of light and shadow.
A large wooden table occupied the main space, on which were scattered thick parchment scrolls, worn-out engraving boards, and some antique-looking seals and tokens symbolizing power and status. Hanging on the wall was a map depicting the spheres of influence of various tribes on the steppe, marked with some puzzling symbols in red and black.
This was clearly one of the places where Prince Arslan handled confidential matters during his lifetime.
Ah Qi paused at the doorway for a moment, his figure completely blending into the shadows, carefully listening to all the sounds inside and outside: the chanting of the wizard in the distance, the crackling of the flames nearby, and even his own and Fang Ru's barely audible breathing.
Only after confirming that it was absolutely safe did he step inside, his movements slow and gentle, as if afraid of disturbing the silence that filled the room.
"The personnel changes, daily activities, and visitor records around the prince—these seemingly trivial details are usually recorded, organized, and archived by a dedicated clerk." He lowered his voice, which sounded particularly steady in the silence, carrying a convincing power.
His gaze swept over every messy spot on the table as if he were combing feathers. "Now that the prince has suddenly passed away, everyone in the tent is in a state of panic. The officials in charge here are either assisting with the religious rites or being questioned. These things are temporarily ownerless, which is the best time for us to look for clues."
Upon hearing this, Fangru immediately stepped forward, carefully avoiding the lamps, and reached out to turn over the piles of parchment scrolls.
However, as her fingertips touched the rough paper, all she saw were twisted and coiled Northern Di characters, like countless unfamiliar eyes coldly staring back at her.
Frustration overwhelmed her like a cold tide. She froze on the spot, feeling like a fool who had stumbled into a treasure trove but was illiterate, helplessly standing aside and watching Ah Qi take action.
She couldn't help but focus her gaze entirely on Ah Qi.
He had already begun to work; his slender fingers, as if they possessed an independent life, turned the pages quickly yet exceptionally gently, avoiding making any unnecessary noise.
His gaze was focused and sharp, like the most precise instrument, scanning line by line the words that seemed like cryptic text to her, pausing slightly at times and then quickly sweeping over them.
The dim light outlined the hard lines of his profile, and between his tightly pursed thin lips and slightly furrowed brows was a kind of focused, almost sharp, intellectual charm.
This ability to remain extremely calm, efficient, and focused even amidst a crisis once again stirred an irrepressible admiration within her, like ripples spreading across a lake after a pebble has been thrown in. At the same time, it also reflected her own powerlessness, bringing a slight sense of frustration.
Time flowed slowly in silence, with only the barely audible rustling of pages being turned very carefully and the suppressed breathing of each other.
Fangru felt a mixture of boredom and anxiety spreading through her chest. She couldn't help but lean closer, almost able to smell the scent of battle on him, and whispered, "Did you... see anything? Did you... find any clues?"
Ah Qi did not answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on a record in his hand, and his fingertip lightly tapped a certain line of text, as if confirming something.
After a few breaths, he slowly raised his head. His eyes, hidden beneath his helmet, held a deep look as if he had just emerged from a sea of information, while the corners of his mouth habitually curled into a slightly mocking smile.
He turned his head and said in a deliberately lowered tone, as if sharing a secret, "The clues... we have discovered that this prince's energy is far beyond that of ordinary people, and his private affairs are quite... colorful. In this record, there are quite a few women of various ethnicities who are associated with his name, and they are of all kinds."
He paused, his gaze lingering for a moment on Fangru's slightly flushed cheeks, his teasing tone growing stronger. "It's a good thing he's gone to the Eternal Heaven now. Otherwise, with your unique charm as a noble lady from the Central Plains, you might have caught his eye one day, and with a decree, you might have been taken into his golden tent as one of his wives. Who knows?"
"You!" Fangru's blood rushed to her head instantly, her cheeks flushed red, both ashamed and angry. She couldn't help but raise her hand and lightly punch his leather-armored arm. The force was mostly neutralized by the hard armor, but it clearly expressed her reproach. "What kind of time is this! It's a matter of life and death! And you still have the leisure to talk nonsense about me! Can't you concentrate on finding evidence!"
Ah Qi let out a low chuckle from deep in his throat, the sound echoing in the quiet cubicle with a strange magnetism.
He was about to say something more, perhaps wanting to see her pouting again, but the moment the corners of his mouth turned up, the smile in his eyes froze instantly, turning into extreme vigilance!
Fangru didn't even see how he moved; she only felt his muscles tense up instantly, like a bow ready to be drawn.
Almost at the same moment, she also caught the faint but purposeful footsteps approaching from the outside corridor! Someone was heading towards this cubicle!
A sense of danger suddenly descended!
Their eyes met rapidly in the air, and they instantly understood each other's intentions.
His gaze quickly swept across the cramped room, and the only place to hide was the extremely heavy spare sacrificial felt hanging in the corner.
Ah Qi's movements were faster than reaction time. He didn't pull roughly, but instead wrapped his arm around Fang Ru's waist and carried her like a whirlwind, swiftly yet smoothly, into the thick felt.
The space instantly became extremely cramped and dark, filled with the pungent smell of old wool.
Their bodies were inevitably pressed tightly together. Fangru could clearly feel the steady heartbeat from his chest and the explosive power hidden in the hard muscles under the fabric, while her own heartbeat was as fast as a drum.
The curtain was lifted by a well-maintained hand adorned with a gemstone ring, and a slender, graceful figure entered, carrying a delicate fragrance of perfume.
She seemed very familiar with the place, walking straight to the wooden table while humming a tuneless prairie tune.
She had only taken a few steps and bent down as if to reach for a box under the table when a dark shadow, as if solidified from the shadows, silently enveloped her from behind!
Ah Qi's movements were swift and decisive. With one hand, he instantly covered her mouth and nose like an iron clamp, controlling the force perfectly to prevent her from making a sound without immediately causing suffocation. In his other hand, the gleaming dagger was already pressed against her slender and fragile neck, the cold blade against her warm skin, pressing her firmly against the cold, hard wooden pillar supporting the tent with an irresistible force, producing a dull thud.
"Don't make a sound," Ah Qi's voice rang in her ear, low, cold, and steady, without a trace of emotion, like the cold wind blowing from the Arctic ice field, containing an absolute and despairing deterrent, "Otherwise, you will die."
The woman was terrified, her whole body trembling violently. Her beautiful eyes were wide open with extreme fear, and her long eyelashes fluttered wildly like the wings of a startled butterfly.
She looked very young, with a beautiful face and snow-white skin. At this moment, under violent restraint, her weak, helpless, and pitiful appearance was enough to make even the most hard-hearted person feel a pang of sympathy.
Fangru hid behind the felt blanket, watching this scene through the tiny gap, her heart clenching.
Looking at the tears rolling down the beautiful woman's face and her pale face from fear, a strange hesitation flashed through his mind. Could Ah Qi, a rough and tough man who had traveled the world, really kill such a delicate and beautiful woman without hesitation?
However, the moment this thought crossed her mind, she saw the delicate woman, in extreme fear, seemingly instinctively trying to struggle, making muffled and desperate "woo-woo" sounds from her covered mouth, and trying to twist her body.
Ah Qi's eyes suddenly turned cold, showing no pity for the beauty, only an absolute intention to eliminate the threat.
The hand covering her mouth tightened suddenly, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force, instantly depriving her of more air and causing her eyes to roll back in her head from lack of oxygen. At the same time, the dagger pressed against her neck moved slightly, a sharp pain shooting through her, and a thin line of bright red blood immediately snaked down her snow-white skin, synchronized with his increasingly icy voice, like a final warning: "If you want to die, try moving again."
The voice was devoid of any warmth, containing only pure, territorial killing intent, like a wild beast defending its territory.
Fangru's heart sank suddenly, and she instantly realized how ridiculous her hesitation had been.
In this dangerous world built by a man, there is only the distinction between "one of us" and "enemies." Gender and appearance are never the criteria he uses to decide whether to take action.
She also clearly felt the stark difference between how Ah Qi treated other women and how he treated her. Although he often teased and threatened her, he always seemed to have a bottom line that was hard to explain, unlike now, when he treated her like an inanimate obstacle, ready to be completely eliminated at any time.
"Tell me, who are you?" Ah Qi's voice remained icy, as if he were interrogating a death row inmate.
The woman's will was completely crushed by the murderous aura he exuded, forged in the crucible of countless corpses and seas of blood. Tears streamed down her face as she trembled, "I...I am Princess Sude...Arslan's...legal wife..."
Princess Sude?
Fangru's heart skipped a beat, and her memories of her past life quickly came together.
She seemed to have heard the old men in the palace mention the princess's secrets.
It is said that the woman originally betrothed to Prince Arslen was another noblewoman from the tribe who was more talented and more prominent, and she was the older sister of this Queen Sude.
But this Sude seems to have used extremely dishonorable means, scheming to make his sister "accidentally" lose her virginity before the wedding, and then taking the opportunity to tearfully express his willingness to marry in his sister's place, ultimately succeeding in occupying the position of princess.
Her talented older sister, however, succumbed to humiliation and depression shortly after her marriage and passed away peacefully.
At this moment, Princess Sude, enduring the stinging pain and suffocating sensation in her neck, asked in a trembling voice, her tone tinged with a hint of hopeful probing: "Who...who are you? What...what do you want? If you want money..."
Fangru took a deep breath and slowly walked out from behind the felt.
She stood beside Ah Qi, her gaze calm yet carrying a knowing understanding, looking at the princess, who was pinned to a pillar, her face ashen and her state utterly wretched. With a clear and icy tone, she interrupted her: "Who we are is unimportant. What matters is that I know who you are, the esteemed Princess Sude? Or should I call you… the one who plotted to kill her own sister, climbing to this position over the corpses of her loved ones… the substitute bride?"
Princess Sude's pupils suddenly contracted to pinpoints, and the color drained from her face instantly. She was even more terrified than when she was threatened with the dagger earlier—the extreme fear of having her secret completely torn apart and exposed to the light of day: "You... what nonsense are you spouting! You're making false accusations!"
"Whether I'm slandering someone or not, you know better than anyone else."
Fangru stepped closer, her gaze sharp as a knife, seemingly able to pierce through Fangru's magnificent robes and strike at her filthy soul. "Tell me," she said, "if I were to shout right now, revealing how you murdered your own sister, deceived the Khan and the Prince, and used despicable means to seize the position of Queen, in front of all the sorcerers and guards outside... do you think the Khan, in his rage, would believe the accusations of these two 'assassins,' or would he, for the sake of the royal family's reputation and to seek justice for his unjustly killed son,... investigate thoroughly?"
She deliberately emphasized "thorough investigation," each word like a heavy hammer striking Princess Sude's most vulnerable nerves.
Princess Sude trembled violently, her eyes filled with utter despair and fear, as if she could see herself stripped of her fine clothes and bound to the execution ground.
Looking into Fangru's icy gaze and feeling the relentless pressure of the dagger against her neck, her mental defenses finally crumbled. With her last ounce of strength, she lowered her voice and pleaded, her voice trembling with tears, "No...no! Please! Don't shout! I...I didn't see anything, I don't know who you are! You...you can do whatever you want, I promise I won't make a sound! I promise!"
Ah Qi loosened his grip on her slightly, but the dagger remained like a viper's tongue, pressed tightly against her skin, showing no sign of moving away.
He turned his head to look at Fangru, a hint of undisguised surprise and admiration flashing in his eyes. His usual playful smile, tinged with a roguish charm, reappeared on his lips. He teased her in a low voice, his tone carrying a new scrutiny: "Tsk, I really didn't expect... that little head of yours has quite a few secrets."
Fangru rolled her eyes at him, then retorted in a low voice, her tone laced with resentment: "I know everything! Unlike some people, who are despicable and shameless, whose minds are filled only with fighting and killing and... and those filthy thoughts!"
She recalled his previous teasing about "concubines," and anger began to rise again. "A wicked fellow like you will surely meet a miserable end!"
Instead of being annoyed, Ah Qi let out a low, pleasant chuckle. The chuckle resonated in the small space, carrying a deadly magnetism and a smug, infuriating quality.
He leaned closer to Fangru, his warm breath brushing against her earlobe. In an intimate manner, almost like a lover's whisper, he spoke in a slow, gentle tone that only the two of them could hear: "A terrible end?" He paused deliberately, his gaze locking onto her eyes, which were slightly widened by tension and anger, in which his own image was clearly reflected. Then, word by word, clearly and slowly, as if declaring a sentence: "Even if it's terrible, I'll drag you down with me."
He stared at her, a dark, almost obsessive possessiveness surging deep within his eyes, and continued, "Remember, if that day ever comes... I will definitely kill you before I die."
His voice was soft: "My people, even if I die, will not be allowed to be touched by any other man in this world...not even a finger."
The undisguised, destructive obsession and possessiveness in those words sent a chill down Fangru's spine, making her feel as if she had fallen into an ice cave. A chilling sensation rushed up her spine and spread to every part of her body.
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