After coughing up a mouthful of blood, Emperor Cheng Xiao slowly opened his eyes. The piercing light made him quickly shut them again.
"I..."
He only managed to utter a single word. His voice was incredibly hoarse, and a ring of blood beaded on his lips, which had been stuck together for too long.
Shuang Ye quickly wiped his lips with a special disinfectant prepared by Song Lianhe. Then, she brought over so water with a straw made from a reed stalk.
"Your Majesty, please drink so water to soothe your throat."
Only after Emperor Cheng Xiao drank so water did he truly regain consciousness.
"You’re the ones who saved ?"
He slowly made out the people standing in the room and froze. "Zi... Ziyin?!" Imdiately, his eyes filled with vigilance. "What do you want, bringing here?"
Zhou Junlin watched him calmly. "Imperial Father, you needn’t be so wary of your son. If not for and Princess Qing, you would likely have beco a desiccated corpse, used to bolster the fortunes of Consort Zhao Hui and the Crown Prince."
Song Lianhe glanced up at the man standing before her. Even though all hell was breaking loose outside, he remained poised and indifferent, neither servile nor overbearing.
"There are still people outside who want to kill you. Oh, right, who want to kill us," he said, his gaze turning to Song Lianhe with a touch of pity. "You’ve just been dragged into this."
Song Lianhe’s mouth twitched slightly.
’What’s with that look you give stray cats and dogs?!’
Emperor Cheng Xiao’s mouth hung open, his expression first dazed, then quickly filled with anguish.
"I’ve already given them the throne, so why must they harm like this? I don’t have much ti left. Can’t they even wait for that?"
Looking at him now, Song Lianhe saw that he no longer possessed the powerful aura she’d sensed when they first t. He was just a pitiable old man in his twilight years.
"Your Majesty, people are greedy. They took the throne, but they also want your fortune. They want to ensure you can never be reborn, to be suppressed at the bottom of a well for all eternity, to be used by their descendants." Her tone shifted. "But if you look on the bright side, their descendants are your descendants too. It’s all being kept in the family."
Zhou Junlin raised an eyebrow, his expression a mixture of amusent and exasperation.
Emperor Cheng Xiao’s gaze slowly fell upon her. "You are... Song Xingfeng’s daughter. Biwu’s Princess Consort."
"Heh," Song Lianhe chuckled and said to Zhou Junlin, "See? His Majesty still rembers ! It’s rare for him to rember anyone besides Consort Zhao Hui and her son. It seems His Majesty is well on his way to recovery."
Zhou Junlin shook his head and laughed in spite of himself.
’Daring to mock the reigning emperor like this... isn’t she afraid he’ll settle the score later?’
Her words made Emperor Cheng Xiao’s old face flush. He quickly asked, "How many guards are outside? What if..."
"Please rest assured, Your Majesty. Prince Ling’s Golden Feather Guards are here, as are the Chi Xiao—my husband’s private guard. They are all outside fighting for their lives to protect you."
Song Lianhe was getting annoyed just looking at him, so she didn’t hold back. With a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, she said, "If we hadn’t promised the Empress we would save you, why would we be suffering through this ambush?"
"So it was my Empress..."
Hearing this, Emperor Cheng Xiao’s old face was streaked with tears.
’I don’t want to watch him put on this show of deep affection. Where was all this before?’
’Truly, n are most honest when they’re hanging on a wall!’
After handing Emperor Cheng Xiao over to Shuang Ye and Ah Jun, she went outside.
The sounds of battle shook the heavens. Emperor Cheng Xiao’s room was surrounded by layers of guards, so it was safe for the ti being.
After the battle in Sishui City, Song Lianhe had learned that she couldn’t entrust her safety to others. She had to save herself first.
She retrieved her Ei Needle, "Ning Zhan." She had left it at her maternal grandparents’ ho, but this ti she had brought it back with her.
She sat by the door, took out her various bottles and jars, opened them, and began dabbing their contents onto the weapon with a small brush.
Zhou Junlin ca to her side, watching with curiosity. "Isn’t it a little late for maintenance?"
Song Lianhe didn’t even look up. Her eyes remained focused as she replied, "Not maintenance. Lacing them with poison."
Her greatest skill was using poison, so she had to play to her strengths.
After coating "Ning Zhan," she took out her needle pouch. She coated every single silver needle with the sa poison. Without her antidote, anyone struck would be paying a visit to King Yan!
Seeing how focused she was, Zhou Junlin actually brought over a chair and sat down next to her.
If not for the sounds of fighting and killing outside, he wouldn’t mind sitting here with her forever, watching the world go by in simple joy.
Song Lianhe turned her head and frowned at him.
’What a strange hobby. Watching people apply poison!’
She not only coated her needles with poison, but she also dabbed poison powder under her fingernails.
Zhou Junlin couldn’t help but chuckle. "I already told you, as long as I’m here, no one will hurt you."
Song Lianhe didn’t believe him for a second. "Didn’t you used to abandon to go find Song Xilan whenever sothing happened? See? It’s better to rely on yourself than on others! You are your own best protector!"
The expression on Zhou Junlin’s face stiffened. He slowly lowered his gaze. "Those things still upset you."
Song Lianhe froze, then looked up at him. "Uh, don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not trying to be lodramatic and guilt-trip you! We were just talking and it ca up, so I thought I’d voice a protest on behalf of this body’s original owner. Besides, you didn’t do anything wrong. You just didn’t like her. That’s not a cri."
He asked suddenly, "And what if I do now?"
At that very mont, sothing ca flying toward them—a large shadow, moving fast, trailing sparks.
Zhou Junlin reacted in a flash, pulling her into his arms and rolling to the side.
It was a volley of burning torches.
’They’re trying a fire attack!’
Song Lianhe sneered. ’This trick again!’
Half the buildings in Sishui City had been destroyed by fire.
Ancient buildings were mostly made of wood; once a fire started, it was nearly impossible to control. How could she make the sa mistake twice?
She took out a whistle and blew it into the air.
An instant later, a falcon appeared.
Chun Hua circled in the sky, letting out three cries: two long, one short.
Then, as if appearing from thin air, all the Daoists of Dao Yuan Temple ca running, carrying waterskins, cotton blankets, and ladders. They extinguished any flas they encountered on their way up to the second floor, where they soaked the blankets and spread them over the roof, railings, doors, and windows with astonishing speed.
Any new torches that were thrown over were imdiately extinguished by the wet blankets.
After securing the quiet room, the Daoists imdiately rushed to the main hall. In short, they could not allow a fire to destroy a foundation built over hundreds of years!
Song Lianhe stood on the second-floor corridor with her hands on her hips. With the wet blankets covering everything, even pouring lamp oil wouldn’t work!
"So, all those commoners who ca for the free clinic, they all brought old clothes and blankets. It looked like they were donations for the temple’s Daoists, but it was actually to prevent a fire attack?"
Behind her, Zhou Junlin’s voice was filled with admiration.
"I already died once in Sishui City. I will never let history repeat itself!"
From her very first day here, seeing these ancient wooden buildings had filled Song Lianhe with a vague sense of panic. A single thought had struck her then: ’If soone set a fire, wouldn’t the whole place burn to the ground?’
So, she had started planning early on, drawing up a fire-prevention map and assigning firefighting zones to the Daoists. The free clinic was indeed the perfect cover. On that day, Xuan i and the others had used the distribution of old clothes and blankets as an opportunity to inspect every room. They even left Daoists behind in the rooms to nd the old clothes, turning them all into blankets.
At the ti, not even Consort Zhao Hui’s people had figured out the true purpose. They only wondered why the Daoists were all doing needlework in their rooms.
So that was the real plan.
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