On the western commercial route, the desert sands howled across the sky.
Qi Yunxuan rode atop her horse, her ivory folding fan long tucked away and replaced by a sleek, wind-resistant cloak. She glanced at Chu Fengning beside her, who had been as silent as a stone carving, and let out a helpless sigh. Since their departure, this "Second Brother Chu" had spoken fewer than three sentences, mostly to confirm their direction or hand her water. He was harder and colder than the rocks of this wasteland.
"Chu Fengning." Qi Yunxuan finally broke under the suffocating silence. Wiping a layer of fine grit from her face, she sighed. "We are heading out to bring the Merchant's First Stronghold to heel and expand our commercial routes, not attending a funeral. Can you stop wearing that rigid face? You make it feel as though we're marching down the road to the underworld."
Chu Fengning kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, his knuckles whitening around the reins. His voice, clear as an icy blade, cut through the howling wind with absolute discipline. "County Princess, this area is dangerously close to the Western Yan border. Mu Rong Xiao's scouts thoroughly blanket this desert, and dark undercurrents churn beneath the surface. As your protector, this general cannot afford the slightest lapse in vigilance."
Always "County Princess," always "this general."
Qi Yunxuan felt a dull throb at her temples. Pulling back on her reins, she brought her mount to a sudden halt, turning to face him directly amidst the swirling yellow sands.
"How many times must I say it? I made it perfectly clear in the Zhan Manor council chamber—'County Princess Qi' of that Southern Tang princely estate died back in the Southern Tang. I am simply Qi Yunxuan now."
Facing the buffeting gale, her voice carried the fierce, uncompromising determination of a modern woman demanding equality. "Chu Fengning, stop calling me County Princess. We are comrades-in-arms, allies. Is it truly so difficult to just call me by my name—Yunxuan?"
Only then did Chu Fengning rein in his horse and look back. His eyes, tempered by years of battlefield smoke, collided with her clear, stubborn gaze.
As he looked at her wind-disheveled hair, the rigid walls of tradition within his heart had long since crumbled. Ever since Shen Ning revealed the truth of their origins to him, his gaze toward Qi Yunxuan had carried a deep reservoir of tenderness that even he hadn't fully recognized.
He knew that within this slender frame resided a soul from a millennium in the future. In her world, she knelt to no man; she possessed a strategic mind and a courage that stood shoulder-to-shoulder with any male counterpart. The "equality" she spoke of was no capricious whim, but a right she rightfully owned.
"County Princess..." Chu Fengning murmured. Then, catching the flash of vexation in her eyes, his throat bobbed. He softened his voice to a whisper meant only for the two of them: "Yunxuan."
That low, deeply restrained utterance of her name was like a pebble tossed into the sealed depths of Qi Yunxuan's heart, sent ripples cascading uncontrollably through her soul.
The sharp retorts and firm arguments she had readied dissolved entirely under the weight of his dark, intense gaze. Her fingers idly traced the reins as a sudden warmth surged from her chest to the tips of her ears, burning a distinct crimson blush onto her face despite the freezing desert gale.
In either of her two lifetimes—as a top elite operative or a cold, calculating merchant tycoon—she had been defined by a codename or a title. She had never imagined that her own name, when spoken by a man, could act as a lethal toxin that utterly scrambled her focus.
"Cough..."
Qi Yunxuan whipped her head around, awkwardly breaking eye contact. She let out a soft cough, trying to reclaim her signature clinical poise to mask her inner turmoil, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her. "The day is growing late, and it looks like a localized sandstorm is brewing. Let's find a sheltered spot to rest. Even if we can push through, the horses need water."
Watching her slightly flurried back, the rigid lines of Chu Fengning's mouth softened into a faint smile. He knew she was fleeing. That specialized defensive instinct of an elite operative appeared endearing and clumsy when forced to confront genuine emotion.
"There is an outpost ahead, marked on our charts. Though it is a den frequented by all manner of rogue factions, its geography makes it easy to defend and impossible to storm. Follow me."
Chu Fengning spurred his horse forward. This time, he discarded his strict escort protocol, riding directly abreast with her. Their stirrups occasionally clinked against each other, producing a crisp, metallic ring that sounded remarkably like an embrace on this desolate road.
In the distance, a solitary tavern loomed within the dust storm, its tattered flag thrashing violently in the gale.
Chu Fengning subtly rested his palm against the hilt of his longsword, his eyes snapping back to their baseline lethal focus. "This establishment is called the Du Mo Tavern—meaning to cross the threshold of this barren frontier. Once we step inside, stay close to me."
Qi Yunxuan looked up at the weathered wooden placard creaking in the wind. The characters "Du Mo" were carved with vigorous, sweeping strokes, offering an eerie, surreal sense of sanctuary amidst the howling waste.
"Rest easy," she murmured, her eyes shifting back to a calculating focus. "When it comes to surviving among rogues and criminals, I've navigated waters far deeper than any military general."
Meanwhile, within the deepest shadows of the Du Mo Tavern's second floor, a window was pushed open to a narrow sliver.
Mu Rong Xiao stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He had shed his opulent, signature dark-purple cloak, replacing it with a low-profile yet impeccably tailored set of charcoal-black silk robes. Piercing through the swirling desert sands, he stared into the far distance toward Zhanchuan, his eyes deep pools of absolute ink.
"Zhong Gui," he spoke slowly, his raspy voice laden with an undeniable pressure. "Do you think this Chu Yuning... will truly join my banner?"
Images of the devastation he had witnessed back in the mining zone flashed across his mind—the reinforced tunnels obliterated in an instant, the craters forged by an incomprehensible explosive force, and those innovative crossbows whose piercing power was terrifying enough to punch straight through heavy plate armor.
He had operate under the assumption that such destructive, paradigm-shifting armaments could only be the brainchildren of a military genius like Chu Yuning.
Standing behind him, Zhong Gui's spine stiffened. He lowered his head, his tone a mix of absolute sincerity and helplessness. "Your Highness, this subordinate has no answer for such a hypothetical. The bones of the Chu clan are invariably as unyielding as the bedrock of this desert. Forcing their allegiance will be an uphill battle."
Zhong Gui paused, carefully weighing his next words. He peeked up at Mu Rong Xiao's face, which shifted between light and shadow, and dared to whisper a reminder: "Furthermore, Your Highness, you can no longer refer to yourself as 'this Prince.' Now that we have crossed the threshold of the Du Mo Tavern, we are masquerading as common medicinal merchants traversing the wastes. Moving forward, you must address yourself as Master Mu the Fourth."
"Master Mu the Fourth..."
Mu Rong Xiao repeated the alias in a low murmur, the corners of his mouth curving into a playful, predatory smirk.
Late that night, the Du Mo Tavern.
The silence of the desert outpost was shattered by a piercing, agonizing shriek. Moments later, thick billows of smoke rolled through the corridors as orange-red tongues of fire slithered up from the ground floor like venomous vipers. The tavern was ablaze!
"Kill them! Leave no one alive!"
Amidst the chaos, over twenty black-clad assassins flooded the premises like demons unleashed from the underworld. Holding blood-dripping scimitars, they hacked down anyone in their path through the raging firelight. These were no common bandits; they were death-sworn operatives dispatched by the competing princes of Western Yan, targeted directly at Mu Rong Xiao. To ensure absolute success, they intended to slaughter every innocent soul in the tavern to eliminate any witnesses.
"Yunxuan, stay close!"
Chu Fengning's longsword cleared its scabbard, its silver gleam flashing against the firelight. With one arm shielding Qi Yunxuan, he swung his blade to deflect a volley of incoming crossbow bolts. However, the panicked patrons surged like a frenzied tidal wave, stampeding through the narrow, burning corridors.
With a thunderous crash, a massive structural beam collapsed, sending a wall of sparks and collapsing timber violently severing their line of sight.
"Chu Fengning!" Qi Yunxuan was violently buffeted backward by the stampeding crowd. In the blink of an eye, his broad profile vanished into the dense smoke.
Separated from Chu Fengning by the fleeing patrons, Qi Yunxuan pressed her spine firmly against a cold stone pillar. There wasn't a trace of panic in her clear eyes; her mind operated with the absolute calm of a high-precision instrument. Shielded by her heavy cloak, her right hand had securely locked around her compact sleeve-crossbow, her finger resting on the trigger mechanism as she calculated the distance of the nearest assassin.
The moment that black-clad figure took three more steps forward, her bolt would sever his carotid artery.
Yet, at the precise microsecond her muscles coiled to unleash a lethal counter, a warm hand with moderate strength abruptly clamped around her wrist!
"Miss, stop dazing off! Move!"
Qi Yunxuan's heart leapt. Her specialized reflexes as a top operative nearly drove her elbow straight through the stranger's throat. But she caught a faint aroma of ink and refined medicinal herbs, and the corner of her eye registered an anxious yet strikingly handsome profile.
Mu Rong Xiao's face was slightly pallid right now. Though he held the rank of a Prince, a frail constitution since childhood meant he lacked the martial capability to charge battlefields like his brothers. The martial foundations he had cultivated over the years were merely for health; in a genuine, high-stakes slaughter like this, he knew he was outmatched. He could only flee in disarray alongside Zhong Gui and a few hidden guards.
He had successfully made it to the exit of the veranda when he spotted this isolated woman frozen against the pillar amidst the smoke. In his eyes, she appeared delicate and ethereal, clearly paralyzed by sheer terror.
"Fourth Master, leave her! The assassins are gaining ground!" Zhong Gui bellowed from the side, jumping in anxiety.
"Silence! Leaving her here means certain death!"
Without allowing any room for argument, Mu Rong Xiao locked his grip around Qi Yunxuan's wrist, pulling her along as he bolted toward the rear stables. Due to his limited stamina, his breathing rapidly turned heavy and labored, yet his grip around her hand never loosened for a single second. He even instinctively adjusted his posture to shield her from several volleys of flying embers.
Dragged along in his wake, Qi Yunxuan's internal expression was nothing short of spectacular.
Her crossbow was locked and loaded, her killing intent had reached its zenith, and she had just been "rescued" like a fragile damsel by a man whose martial arts were utterly mediocre?
She stared at Mu Rong Xiao's heavily breathing back. His steps were hollow, and though his center of mass was steadier than a commoner's, his posture was riddled with tactical flaws in her eyes. Yet, this exact "weakling" had chosen to risk his life to drag a strange woman out of a burning inferno.
"...Let go, I can run on my own." Qi Yunxuan attempted to wrench her wrist free. Her professional pride as a elite operative made this protected stance feel incredibly awkward.
"Don't be afraid, Miss! My men are holding the line behind us, just keep pace with me!" Mu Rong Xiao, assuming she was simply hysterical from terror, tightened his grip further. Dodging a falling piece of timber, he managed to gasp out words of reassurance: "This Mu may not be an expert swordsman, but as long as I draw breath, I will ensure your safe passage out of this Du Mo Tavern!"
Qi Yunxuan: ... (I think you're going to ensure this top operative dies of sheer exasperation instead.)
Left with no choice, she quietly eased the tension on her crossbow, sliding it back into her sleeve. Staring at the man ahead who was burning through his stamina just to save her, the frozen defenses around Qi Yunxuan's heart were unexpectedly pricked with a tiny breach by this absurd "heroic rescue."
Forget it, she mused. The guy's martial arts are a joke, but his heart is in the right place. Since Chu Fengning is temporarily out of reach, following him to see what cards he's holding isn't a bad tactical alternative.
Suddenly, Qi Yunxuan's eyes turned lethal as she registered an assassin rapidly closing the distance from behind.
"Duck!"
Her icy command rang sharply in Mu Rong Xiao's ear. Before he could process the word, a heavy rush of wind slashed past his head. A massive piece of splintered timber—propelled by an unknown, precise force—slammed directly into the charging assassin, throwing him back before he could raise his scimitar.
Mu Rong Xiao whipped his head around, completely stunned. He looked at the fallen assassin, then turned an astonished gaze onto Qi Yunxuan.
"Was that... a coincidence?" he asked, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Qi Yunxuan instantly melted back into her fragile, helpless persona. She blinked innocently, her voice utterly devoid of a ripple. "This tavern must be terribly ancient and poorly maintained; the structural beams are simply falling apart. Master, if we don't run now, the fire will consume us."