Xiao Nanhui had absolutely no intention of answering Lu Songping’s question.
When a confrontation was imminent, who would waste their breath on idle chatter? It was a joke.
She took a deep breath and, without looking back, lunged toward the disheveled Vice Manager Lan.
The unlucky man was terrified, thinking she intended to take him down with her in her final moments. He scrambled to hide, but the heavy shackles on his feet meant he could do little more than writhe in place.
In the next instant, a gust of wind brushed past him. With a heavy thud, a hole appeared in the floorboards beside him—the wooden panel used for passing food had been kicked clean through.
Xiao Nanhui dropped through the bottom of Shuxin Pavilion, attempting to use the moonlight to get her bearings. However, Lu Songping had no intention of giving her the chance; he was on her heels almost immediately.
Xiao Nanhui spun around and kicked a loose floorboard toward him, putting the full strength of her leg into the strike.
A needle-thin flash of silver light flickered. The board was silently sliced in two and fell to the ground. She looked up to see a sharp glint driving straight for her eyes.
It was as swift as a meteor, whistling through the air.
Xiao Nanhui did not dare underestimate her opponent. With no room left to retreat, she twisted her neck and shoulders with all her might.
A cold sensation grazed her jaw, her ear, and her hair.
She saw it clearly then: it was a long, narrow sword. It lacked the upright dignity of a gentleman’s blade, possessing instead a certain feminine cruelty that suited its master perfectly.
Xiao Nanhui recalled an ancient legend from Lingdong: it was said that when the gods descended to the mortal realm, they granted enlightenment to several creatures, among which were snakes.
The sword in Lu Songping’s hand was like a snake.
A silver snake that had attained spiritual sapience.
Having missed its mark, it retracted instantly. When it slithered out again, it came from an entirely different direction.
Xiao Nanhui had no desire to linger in battle. Her mind was set on a quick escape. She remained entirely on the defensive, hurling whatever objects she could grab at her opponent, seeking any opening to widen the distance between them.
The silver snake seemed to grow agitated. It suddenly buckled, the blade curving at an impossible angle to bite savagely toward the center of her back.
Such a narrow blade was, in fact, a soft sword.
Xiao Nanhui cursed inwardly, certain she was about to be wounded.
It was a lethal move, yet the swordsman deliberately held back a fraction of his strength, causing the blade to veer slightly off-course and its momentum to slow. Thus, a masterful strike that should have flayed skin and flesh ended up as a rogue’s tactic, merely shredding her clothes.
Xiao Nanhui looked down at the torn fabric at her waist. Realizing the other man was arrogant and playing a game of cat and mouse, she actually felt a sense of relief.
If Lu Songping fought with the intent to kill, she might only have a fifty-percent chance of survival even if she gave her all. But if he wasn't exerting his full effort, the situation was entirely different.
In the space of a single breath, Lu Songping’s sword struck again from a tricky angle, aimed at her rear shoulder.
This time, she did not dodge.
As the snake-like blade closed in, Xiao Nanhui reached behind her back and drew the cloth-wrapped bundle she had been carrying, channeling her strength into the movement.
*Clang!*
Steel clashed against steel, sending sparks flying.
Xiao Nanhui gripped her weapon, Pingxian. Giving Lu Songping no time to react, she used a "Scooping the Moon from the Lake" maneuver to violently jar his sword away. Using the counter-force, she leaped toward the roof, flipping through the air to put distance between them.
An inch longer, a degree stronger; an inch shorter, a degree more dangerous.
Now that she had revealed her weapon, it might not put Lu Songping in much peril, but it was enough to facilitate her escape.
She didn't overthink it. Having gained the upper hand, she turned and fled.
Several yards away, the surprise in Lu Songping’s eyes gradually transformed into a competitive urge born of provocation. Like a wolf kicked in the jaw by a rabbit, he pursued her with even greater speed.
To avoid alerting more pursuers, Xiao Nanhui was forced to abandon the path toward the outer walls, instead running deeper into the sparsely populated reaches of the detached palace.
Vines and branches, some thin and some coarse, whipped past her ears. As she stepped out of a desolate path, she looked up to see the silhouette of a massive palace looming in the night.
The sheer scale of this palace was rare, hinting at its significance. Yet, the entire structure was devoid of candlelight, shrouded in a deathly silence that made it impossible to read the characters above the doors.
Aside from this palace, there was only the main thoroughfare. Taking the main road would surely lead to more pursuers, whereas leading someone into a confined space offered a better chance of escape.
Behind the palace seemed to be a rear garden, and beyond that, the outer wall. There would be a way out.
Making a split-second judgment, Xiao Nanhui flew up the stone steps toward the pitch-black palace gates.
Almost simultaneously, the cold wind that had been dogging her heels suddenly went still.
Xiao Nanhui turned back, panting. Under the moonlight, Lu Songping’s shadow stood at the base of the very first step outside the hall. He refused to advance even half a step further.
Strange.
Was he tired of the chase?
Xiao Nanhui had no time for deep thought and hurried into the depths of the darkness.
The warm summer night breeze stopped abruptly at the threshold of the hall.
The moment she stepped into the darkness, she felt something cool lightly brush against her cheek.
She thought it was a vast, thin sheet of silk gauze, but when she reached out to wave it away, she found the substance in the air had no form.
The surroundings were cold and windless, as if she had stepped into a sealed cavern. She instinctively slowed her pace, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light before quietly surveying her surroundings.
The enormous hall was empty and desolate. Giant decorative porcelain vases, as tall as a person, lay toppled over. Overturned small tables were mixed with shattered porcelain plates and glass cups. Occasionally, a shriveled fruit could be seen on the floor, covered in a layer of grayish-green mold.
She knew where she was.
Rumor had it that the hall where Prince Kang hosted his guests was named "Xuemi." It was a place reserved only for distinguished guests. Inside the hall, it was as cool as early autumn all year round—a miraculous thing in the sweltering heat of Tongcheng. Many who came to visit Prince Kang sought it out by reputation, yet few were actually permitted to enter.
The last time Prince Kang had hosted a banquet here was over a month ago.
Everything seemed frozen in the moment of that night’s banquet. Aside from the bodies that had been dragged away, the surroundings remained exactly as they were when the assassination occurred. Even the tables and chairs blocking the path had not been moved.
Lu Songping’s people were a bit hasty in their work.
As Xiao Nanhui pondered this, she failed to watch her step. Suddenly, she felt a chill run up half her leg; she had stepped into a pool of water.
The water wasn't deep, only reaching her shins, but the temperature was bone-chilling. Just as she was about to pull herself out, she noticed something in the water and froze.
In the extremely dim light, something in the water was reflecting a faint glimmer.
Xiao Nanhui leaned down and reached into the water to search. A moment later, she opened her palm to reveal two pieces of translucent white jade.
No. She adjusted them; it wasn't two jade pendants, but one.
A single *she*-shaped jade pendant that had been sliced into two.
A *she*-shaped pendant was something only an Emperor or someone gifted by an Emperor could possess. In this situation, the owner could only have been Prince Kang.
She picked up one of the pieces and brought it close to inspect it.
The icy white, rounded jade had been cut right through the middle. The cut was as smooth as if it had been born that way, likely collateral damage from the attack on Prince Kang.
But what kind of sharp weapon could leave such a mark? Jade was both hard and brittle; an ordinary blade, even if it could strike such a small object in mid-air, would usually cause the jade to shatter on the spot.
Past scenes flashed through her mind.
Thin, resilient, accompanied by a swift and ruthless strangulation...
Flying wires!
Besides this, she remembered the group of assassins using flying wires she had encountered deep in the Muerhe Swamps at the old Xiong family estate.
How could there be such a coincidence? Or was her imagination leading her astray?
Xiao Nanhui stood dazed in the freezing water, suddenly feeling that Prince Kang’s death was merely a piece of duckweed floating on the surface. No one knew what truth lay beneath these deep waters.
She gripped the cold, hard jade tightly in her hand, the edges digging painfully into her palm.
The matter of Muerhe was not over, and the matter of the Secret Seal was not over.
Everything was only just beginning.
Clutching the jade, she stepped out of the pool. Perhaps because her feet were wet, she felt the air around her grow even colder, to the point where she could faintly see her own breath.
Was it not the height of summer? Why was the "yin" energy in this detached palace so heavy?
Xiao Nanhui fixed her gaze on the throne further in—the seat where Prince Kang had sat during the banquet. It had been sliced through at an angle. Like the jade pendant, the cut was clean and decisive.
The dense wood of the Royal Tree had been sliced in half like a block of tofu. She felt she needed to go forward and investigate; perhaps she would find more clues. But as she took a step, her legs suddenly went weak.
She thought her legs were simply numb from standing in the cold water for too long. She shifted her weight to the other leg, but it too gave way.
The numbness spread from her limbs to her torso. Lightheaded, she staggered a few steps and collapsed to her knees a short distance from the severed throne.
Xiao Nanhui shook her head violently, trying to stay conscious.
This feeling was strange; it wasn't like being drugged with a common sedative.
Her senses were still functioning, but in a chaotic manner. Her eardrums felt as though they were coated in wax; she could only hear the thumping of her own heart clearly. Yet her sense of smell seemed magnified several times over, allowing her to gradually distinguish an unusual floral fragrance in the air.
How could there be a floral scent in this hall?
Unknowingly, she had slumped onto her back. She tried to lift her hand and wave it before her eyes, but her dilated pupils could not focus on the five fingers right in front of her. Instead, she could see glowing plants hanging upside down from the ceiling of the hall.
It was a vast expanse of giant orchids emitting a ghostly blue light. They radiated a faint chill, their veins intertwined in a lush, dense thicket. They were in full bloom, and from the center of each flower, fine dust fell, scattering like tiny stars. Because the particles were so small, they formed a translucent haze that was impossible to notice without careful scrutiny.
She finally knew what had brushed against her face when she entered the hall.
No wonder that bastard Lu Songping refused to come in; this Xuemi Hall was cursed. Prince Kang loved exotic plants and had cultivated a species that could turn the air cold. However, these plants were toxic. Normally, they had to be pruned diligently; otherwise, if allowed to grow rampant, anyone who stayed for a moment would lose their senses.
Looking at the way Lu Songping kept his distance, would a few more breaths of this stuff actually be fatal?
At this thought, Xiao Nanhui struggled desperately to prop up her upper body, wanting to crawl toward the palace doors. However, the moment she rose, the world began to spin. The moonlight streaming through the doors looked like a racing streak of light, darting up, down, left, and right across her vision, impossible to catch.
Her distorted vision caused her to collapse again after a few steps, leaving her struggling in place.
She could hear her own heavy breathing, like a broken door rattling in the wind.
The surroundings seemed to grow colder and colder, and her struggles became increasingly sluggish.
*Rustle.*
Xiao Nanhui’s pupils twitched.
It was the sound of boots brushing against the floor. Someone was walking toward her.
She couldn't tell if the sound was an illusion until, in the next moment, a low, raspy voice drifted slowly through her heavy eardrums.
"Xiao Nanhui, close your eyes."
That voice... it was somewhat familiar.
She couldn't process what the person was saying. She strained her eyes, trying to see the newcomer’s face, but in the end, she saw only a blur of white.
A slightly cold white, just like the moon tonight.
The moon-white color drew closer. Xiao Nanhui felt her unbalanced body being touched and finally stabilized. Beneath her cheek and arms was the sensation of high-quality silk fabric, radiating a faint warmth.
Why did this white look cold but feel warm to the touch?
"Stop touching. Move your hand."
Ah, it really was so familiar. Where had she heard it before?
Her sluggish mind struggled to think, but her hands refused to let go. Like a drunken rogue, she stubbornly indulged in this patch of warm moon-white.
After a long time, a sigh seemed to float past her ear.
Immediately afterward, her body was lifted off the ground. The moon-white surrounded her more closely, like a spring of warm water.
A faint, cool fragrance filled her nose, and her spinning vision finally seemed to settle.
Drowsiness continued to erode her consciousness.
The moment before she closed her eyes, she thought she saw the falling dust transform into a sky full of descending snow.
***
