Thunderstorm assassination
After all the commotion, the curtains were pulled back in the evening. Jiang Yanhui, sitting on the side of the bed, rubbed her shoulders to relieve the soreness. It was nothing more than him bullying her too much, and Ah Chou had been threatened not to bite her, so he could only hug Jiang Yanhui's shoulders tightly and press himself against her body to relieve the panic that was on the verge of losing control.
Although Ah Chou was thin, she was well-built in all the right places, and her skin felt as smooth and delicate as milk, making her irresistible to touch.
Eighteen is the age when a child is growing, and Ah Chou, who was well-fed and pampered, did not gain weight, but his height increased by two fingers.
However, due to malnutrition in his early years, he still looked thin and small, and you really couldn't tell that there was a person lying in the brocade quilt unless you looked closely.
Ah Chou, with his fuzzy head rubbing against the blanket, buried most of his face in it. His wet eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, and he was not sleeping soundly.
Jiang Yanhui brushed her bent index finger across Ah Chou's tear-streaked eye, the moist teardrops wetting her skin, and a strange feeling rose in her heart.
Jiang Yan frowned. Before she could savor the complex emotions within her, the sleeping Ah Chou groggily opened his eyes, grasped the hand that had been bothering him, pressed it against his face, and fell into a deep sleep.
Jiang Yan Hui: "..."
Jiang Yan tried to pull back twice but couldn't, and the budding idea was immediately replaced by helplessness.
Listening to the incessant sound of rain outside the window, occasionally interspersed with a few rumbles of thunder, Jiang Yanhui pressed down on A Chou's waist and flipped her over.
Glug—
The sleeping person was thrown to the ground and rolled halfway around, facing the inner wall with no sign of waking up; they were exhausted.
Jiang Yan shook her hand, which still had a gentle and delicate touch, picked up the outer robe that had been carelessly thrown on the ground in the chaos, draped it over her shoulders, and got up to rummage through the shelf behind the table for something.
Uncle Ban, who had come in through the veranda with his umbrella closed, shook off the water droplets from it and asked from outside the door, "Your Majesty, would you like some dinner?"
Jiang Yan waved to him, signaling him to come in, and continued rummaging through the books. "My childhood books for learning to read are kept in my residence in the capital. Go and see if there are any for sale in Lingzhou. I need them."
A slight noise came from the inner room, but Uncle Ban did not look in the direction of the noise. Instead, he answered Jiang Yan Hui's question without glancing at her, "The bookstores in Lingzhou are closed right now. I will send someone to purchase some books tomorrow."
Unless it's a catastrophe, Jiang Yan Hui doesn't bother with any of the household affairs. Uncle Ban can arrange things himself if he can, and only asks her when he's unsure.
Jiang Yan gave up on finding introductory books on the bookshelf, rubbed her aching back from bending over for so long, and said, "You handle these as soon as possible."
The room was much darker than usual due to the thunderstorm. The lit candlelight illuminated the exquisite furnishings, and the table was filled with light and easily digestible dishes that emitted a rich aroma, but they couldn't entice Ah Chou, who had woken up early.
Uncle Ban served Jiang Yan Hui her meal, arranging the bowls and plates with perfect precision, down to the best order in which each dish was eaten. Every action reflected the discipline he had developed while serving Wang Zun, a level of refinement reserved only for the imperial family.
After waiting for a while, there was still no movement from the inner room. Jiang Yanhui did not believe that Ah Chou, who was so timid, could fall asleep again. She guessed that he was hiding under the covers, afraid of being discovered, and was just burying his head in the sand.
Jiang Yanhui stopped eating, wiped her mouth, and said, "You can go now. Let A Chou serve you."
Uncle Ban acknowledged and left, not asking any questions that a servant should not ask.
A moment later, a faint sound came from the inner room. Ah Chou, wrapped in a quilt, poked his furry head out from behind the bed curtains. His swollen eyes darted around cautiously, searching for something. Only after confirming that there was no danger around did he pull back the curtains.
Heaven knows he overheard Jiang Yanhui and Uncle Ban's conversation in his half-asleep state, and was so frightened that he banged his head against the wall. His drowsiness and fatigue vanished, leaving only the worry of being discovered.
He bent down to put on his shoes, then looked up and met Jiang Yanhui's amused gaze.
Jiang Yan crossed her arms and looked at the stiff, motionless person, then chuckled, "You're quite strange, afraid of Uncle Ban but not me."
Of course he wasn't afraid. Compared to Uncle Ban, he was more afraid of Jiang Yan Hui, since Uncle Ban didn't have the right to beat someone to death.
Ah Chou felt that he had already shown Jiang Yan Hui everything without reservation, at least enough to save face for others.
Rumble—his stomach growled twice, and Ah Chou shrank his neck and his ear tips turned red.
"It's on the table, go eat."
The tone of his voice was gentle, without him even realizing it.
Jiang Yanhui liked watching Ah Chou eat, her chubby cheeks moving as she focused intently on her meal.
"Let's sit here and eat."
Ah Chou, who wanted to squat down and eat the steamed buns, sat down awkwardly. She sat on the round stool, feeling uneasy. Her eyes, which were swollen from crying, blinked repeatedly, and she occasionally stole a glance at Jiang Yan Hui.
Even though she had already slept in the same bed with Jiang Yanhui, A Chou still remembered the teachings of Uncle Ban when she first entered the Prince's Mansion.
A master is a master, and a servant is a servant. One cannot forget one's place just because the master has shown them some respect.
Ah Chou silently stuffed a steamed bun into her mouth, filling her stomach while pondering Jiang Yan Hui's thoughts. Completely clueless about love, Ah Chou couldn't understand or fathom Jiang Yan Hui's intentions, only knowing that Jiang Yan Hui was sometimes near and sometimes far.
Sometimes he was so close that Ah Chou felt he could reach out and touch the gentle smile on her lips; other times he was so far away that he could only look up at the lofty King of Jiangbei.
The rain continued to fall, accompanied by lightning and thunder, and it seemed to be getting heavier and heavier, roaring and howling as it swept across the land, determined to engulf everything.
The lights on the veranda couldn't penetrate the rain, and the view was pitch black with only an arm's length of vision. The extremely low visibility gave one the illusion of impending danger.
As he squatted on the carpet, the candlelight cast flickering shadows on his profile. His drowsy head bobbed up and down, as if he were about to lean against the wall behind him and fall asleep at any moment.
Aside from being dragged into that kind of thing by Jiang Yan Hui, Ah Chou, who was on night duty, never dared to hope to share a bed with Jiang Yan Hui for a night's rest. He would always find a place to sleep in the outer room. Unless Jiang Yan Hui needed him that night, and he happened to be exhausted and passed out.
Ah Chou just couldn't understand why Jiang Yan Hui wouldn't allow him to stay in the outer room tonight. Staying in the inner room, Ah Chou forced his sleepy eyes open and glanced at Jiang Yan Hui, who was reading a book. He couldn't understand why she didn't seem to feel tired.
Just when all was quiet and people were least on guard, a loud bang was heard, and rain and wind poured in first from the broken roof.
Before Ah Chou could react, his shoulder was grabbed by a force and pulled backward, dodging the dart thrown by the man in black who was falling from the sky.
The poisoned iron dart was deeply embedded in the pillar; one could imagine that if it hit someone, their bones would probably break in two.
Almost simultaneously, the doors and windows were smashed open, and four or five men in black, armed with sharp blades, burst in, all targeting the unarmed Jiang Yanhui.
Ah Chou's heart was pounding in her throat. All her sleepiness and exhaustion were thrown to the back of her mind. She couldn't understand what was happening. She stared wide-eyed as the man in black, without saying a word, charged straight at them.
Compared to Ah Chou's helpless appearance, Jiang Yan Hui seemed much calmer, as if she had long expected that someone would take advantage of the heavy rain to launch a night attack on the Jiangbei Prince's Mansion. Even her eyes showed less emotion than when Ah Chou was almost injured by a dart.
The cleaver fell towards the storefront, but Jiang Yanhui quickly dodged it, grabbed the black-clad man's wrist, and struck him on the shoulder with a cracking sound.
The knife slipped from his hand and naturally ended up in Jiang Yanhui's grasp.
Jiang Yanhui drew his sword and struck straight at the throat, a simple and brutal kill with no fancy moves, the most straightforward and ruthless strike on the battlefield.
The sight of the swarm of men in black made Ah Chou's teeth chatter, his head throbbed with pain, and incomprehensible images flashed before his eyes. It was a rainy night like this, it was also when he was forced to hide, it was also when his flesh was being cut by a knife.
Ah Chou had no time to care about Jiang Yan Hui anymore. The tearing pain in his head made him pound his head in agony, curling himself up tightly in the corner between the bed and the wardrobe, trying to find a sense of security.
After only a few exchanges, Lang Rong arrived in the rain and kicked away the black-clad man who was trying to attack Jiang Yanhui again.
Jiang Yan asked in return, "Where is Dou Yu?"
Lang Rong wiped his face, which was covered in rainwater. "I'm with Uncle Ban."
During the fight, all the furniture inside the house was damaged, and rainwater kept pouring in through the broken roof, quickly soaking the expensive carpet to the point of being worthless.
The two of them quickly subdued the man in black. Lang Rong yanked off the mask covering the dying man in black and saw the mark on her neck. "She's a death squad member from the Iris Pavilion."
The Iris Pavilion is a place specifically for training assassins.
Jiang Yan threw down the knife in disgust. "If you can't get anything out of him, kill him."
Aunt Pan rushed over after dealing with the assassins outside. She breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that Jiang Yan was alright, and reported, "Your Majesty, all twenty assassins have been dealt with."
Jiang Yan frowned. "Clean up the body."
"Yes." Aunt Pan left briskly.
A man was waiting outside the veranda, his clothes soaked by the wind and rain. The usually composed Uncle Ban quickly took two steps forward. "You're injured."
Aunt Pan looked down at the cut on her arm that was still bleeding. "It's a minor injury. You can apply some medicine when you get back."
Uncle Ban ignored him, took out a handkerchief and made a simple bandage, "Go and treat the wound first, I'll keep an eye on things up front for you."
Aunt Pan smiled and said, "Oh."
The atmosphere inside the house was far from harmonious. Jiang Yan Hui, whose residence had been turned upside down, was extremely agitated. Although she wasn't injured, the bloodstains from the fight made her nauseous, which only added fuel to the fire.
Jiang Yan took off her filthy outer robe and found Ah Chou huddled in a corner, clutching her head. Ah Chou's hunched shoulders trembled uncontrollably; she seemed terrified.
"Ugly."
"Ah Chou—"
Two voices overlapped in her mind. Startled and panicked, Ah Chou frantically pushed away everything that came near her, causing the unsuspecting Jiang Yan Hui to stumble.
Lang Rong, who had been rambling on about which faction had hired the Iris Pavilion people to carry out the attack, suddenly fell silent, even more tense than when he was fighting the black man. He glanced at Jiang Yan Hui's somber face, then at the servant who was still huddled in the corner with his head in his hands, and knew that something terrible was about to happen.
Lang Rong, who had grown up with Jiang Yan Hui, had never seen anyone dare to push Jiang Yan Hui away, let alone a lowly servant.
Lang Rong silently kicked away the knife at his feet, lest Jiang Yanhui, in the heat of the moment, do something irreversible.
Just as she was thinking about how to ease the tension, Jiang Yanhui stepped forward again, grabbed Ah Chou with an assertive and unyielding manner, and slashed at the back of his neck with her hand like a knife.
Terrified and resisting everything, Ah Chou suddenly went limp and fell helplessly into Jiang Yan Hui's arms.
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