Chapter Seven: The Assassin

As Feng Yewu gradually regained her composure, she suddenly sensed that something was amiss and furrowed her brows. The swords used for court performances were always blunt, flexible blades—how could they possibly produce such a resonant, metallic clash upon contact?

“Seize her at once!” Feng Yewu slammed her hand on the table and shouted. Everyone in the hall froze, stunned into inaction.

In that instant, a cold, murderous light flashed in the eyes of the sword dancer. With a sudden, explosive move, she broke formation and, sword in hand, vaulted through the air—heading straight for Feng Yewu under a storm of astonished gazes.

The keen, icy blade in the woman’s hand sliced audibly through the air, aimed unerringly at Feng Yewu.

Feng Yewu’s pupils contracted sharply. She watched, helpless, as the merciless gleam of the sword bore down upon her; her body was too slow to react.

Like a bolt of lightning, a figure in gray-blue rushed forward. At the very moment the sword’s tip would have pierced Feng Yewu’s throat, the figure threw themselves over her, knocking her to the ground. The sword’s momentum could not be checked—a sickening sound, and the blade plunged into Lu Jue’s body!

Lu Jue gave a muffled groan and collapsed atop Feng Yewu, blood immediately bubbling from the corner of his mouth.

“Protect Her Majesty!” Eunuch Deming roared. The palace guards, already on alert, sprang into action; their spears clashed as they formed a defensive array, pinning the failed assassin to the ground so firmly that she could not move a muscle.

The sword dancer gritted her teeth, but within moments, blood spurted violently from her mouth; her eyes rolled back, her body slackened—and she died by her own poison.

The upheaval had come too swiftly. Feng Yewu’s heart pounded wildly, her mind blank as she stammered in confusion: “Why…you…”

He had received orders to accompany that princess and marry into the barbarian tribe—why would he risk his life to save her now? The one Lu Jue ought to protect was that foreign princess, not her…

As consciousness ebbed with the loss of blood, Lu Jue forced himself to remain awake. He managed a feeble, blood-stained smile for the dazed Feng Yewu and whispered, “My only wish…is to keep you safe…all your life…”

Before he could finish, a violent cough tore another mouthful of blood from him, and he finally lost consciousness.

“Physician!” Feng Yewu’s anguished cry echoed through the hall, startling everyone present. Several elderly healers rushed over, fumbling with their emergency medicines and cloth strips as they tried desperately to staunch Lu Jue’s bleeding.

Feng Yewu scrambled to her feet—her hands, she only now realized, were slick and warm with Lu Jue’s blood. A chill swept over her entire body.

“If he dies…” Feng Yewu’s voice trembled, yet the threat within it was unmistakable, chilling to the bone. “None of you will live, either…”

The imperial physicians blanched with terror and immediately ordered all rare medicines to be brought at once. The priority was to save Lu Jue’s life at any cost!

Blood had saturated Lu Jue’s robes. Feng Yewu fixed her gaze on his pain-etched, pale face; his faint, heartfelt words seemed to echo endlessly in her ears, sending a sharp ache through her heart.

“Your Majesty…” Han Yue hesitated for a long moment, then finally steeled herself and offered a handkerchief. Feng Yewu stared blankly at Han Yue, only then becoming aware of the cool wetness streaming down her cheeks.

She hadn’t even realized she was weeping.

Lateral Chamber, Weiyang Palace.

A thin plume of smoke curled from the incense burner, but its delicate fragrance was powerless against the heavy scent of medicinal decoctions that filled the air, nearly obliterating all other smells. The palace maids stood quietly by the screen, waiting for any command—the entire chamber shrouded in silence.

The bed curtains were drawn back slightly. A physician sat at the bedside, fingers pressed to the wrist of the unconscious Lu Jue, brow furrowed in deep thought.

Feng Yewu stood beside the bed, crimson lips pressed tight as she watched the doctor’s expression. Her slender hands, hidden within her voluminous sleeves, had long since grown damp with sweat, clenching anxiously.

“When will he wake?” Feng Yewu’s cold voice shattered the silence.

Sweat beaded on the physician’s brow as he stammered, “It’s…hard to say…perhaps he’ll regain consciousness in a few hours…” He swallowed the rest of his words: or perhaps, he may never wake again.

A cold light flashed in Feng Yewu’s phoenix eyes as she spoke with chilling severity, “Do you remember what I said in the throne room?”

The physician was near tears. “I remember, Your Majesty…” If Lu Jue died, they would all be doomed. Yet Lu Jue’s injuries were so grave that his fate was truly left to heaven.

He reported the facts, trembling, while Feng Yewu remained silent. Just as the physician was wracking his brains for some further explanation, Feng Yewu forced out a curt “You may go,” her gaze clouded and unreadable.

The physician, feeling reprieved, hurriedly withdrew.

Lu Jue’s face was white as death, drained of all color, and a grief too deep for words rose again in Feng Yewu’s heart. If Lu Jue had not risked everything to shield her, it would have been her, Feng Yewu, lying unconscious on this very bed…

She watched him, dazed, and suddenly thought she saw his eyelids flicker.

Feng Yewu’s heart leapt. She didn’t even care about the tangled hem of her ornate robe as she rushed closer to the bedside. But it must have been an illusion—after a long wait, Lu Jue showed no further sign of waking. Feng Yewu’s disappointment was hard to hide; she let out a long, weary sigh.

Han Yue entered the side chamber at a brisk pace, saluted Feng Yewu, and spoke in a low voice, “Your Majesty, the Grand Court of Justice has already begun questioning those connected to the matter inside the palace, but there are no leads so far. They believe the assassin must have killed the original dancer and assumed her place to infiltrate the palace. The assassin’s true identity remains unknown, but there was a vivid red tattoo on her back—however…no one recognizes its meaning.”