The cicadas chirped incessantly, so heralding the height of sumr, others pleading for rcy.
If cicadas could convey emotion, the one in Jiu Yue’s hand was the embodint of a soul-rending scream.
It was unbearably loud.
With an impassive expression, Jiu Yue tossed it aside and resud her idle vigil for Prince Ping.
If she could, she’d have marched straight into Prince Ping’s estate and waited for him to co to her. But his n had orders to hunt her down, so the key was to confront the prince himself.
According to reliable intel, Prince Ping would pass through here today.
Jiu Yue’s heart pounded—this was a bold, open approach. Even with her mask on, she wasn’t entirely confident…
Who knew if Sima Qing’s amnesia tactic would even work?
Distractedly plotting her grand entrance, Jiu Yue’s ears twitched. She turned sharply to see a procession slowly coming into view below.
Her gaze locked onto the carriage at the center, and her blood roared in recognition.
No mistake.
This was Prince Ping’s retinue.
Two deep breaths steadied her. Just as she debated hurling herself down for a dramatic family reunion, a gust of wind struck from behind.
A sneak attack?
Without turning, Jiu Yue blocked swiftly, seizing the assailant’s arm—only for them to slip free like an eel.
Darts flew next, but Jiu Yue kicked them back with pinpoint precision.
Thud. Thud. Thud. The projectiles pinned leaves to a tree trunk.
Now she saw her attacker clearly: a plain-clad figure who’d vanish in a crowd… except for the left side of his face, a grotesque tapestry of scars that writhed with every expression.
Jiu Yue frowned. “Who the hell are you?”
The man paused, then grinned eerily before lunging for her face.
Jiu Yue t his challenge.
Barehanded, they clashed across the branches in a dozen exchanges, ending in a stalemate.
Narrowing her eyes, Jiu Yue struck first this ti—with full force.
A draw? Impossible!
The system had declared her the strongest!
Driven to crush him, she drove the man to the ground. Space opened up, and with a cold laugh, Jiu Yue unsheathed her blade.
She’d figured him out: nimble footwork, peerless lightness skills, but weaker strikes. Now, weaponless, he was vulnerable.
A flying kick sent him reeling. She landed, leapt, and swung her sword down like a raging tiger.
Realizing his disadvantage, the man abandoned his smirk. In desperation, he caught the blade barehanded.
“Catching steel with flesh?” Jiu Yue scoffed. “Let’s see how many you can stop!”
She struck again, each slash heavier than the last, until he gasped, “Stop—it’s —”
“Don’t care.” Jiu Yue pinned him underfoot, her grin now the sinister one. Her blade hovered above his skull.
Terrified, he shrieked, “Your Highness! Save , Your Highness—!”
Footsteps approached from behind. Jiu Yue stabbed backward with a dagger, but the newcor dodged.
A hand reached out.
“Jiu Yue, it’s really you—”
She answered with a roundhouse kick, smirking as he fell.
Dodged the knife? Try dodging her legs. Pathetic.
Beneath her, the man spat a grotesque splatter onto her boot during her wind-up.
Jiu Yue: “…”
She shook her foot in disgust, then kicked him twice more. “Ever heard of hygiene?!”
Trembling, he raised a hand as if to speak.
Jiu Yue crouched, whispering with a devilish smile, “Now you know. I’m the strongest.”
The man: “…”
He played dead.
Unamused, Jiu Yue stomped his hand, wrenching a strangled scream.
“Who sent you? Talk!” she snarled.
“Agh—Your Highness! HELP!”
His what—? His Highness?
Clarity returned. Jiu Yue whipped around to the man she’d kicked.
One look at his face, and mories flooded her:
Fighting and killing for him.
Holding him, cooking for him.
Then—sothing changed. Heartbroken, she distanced herself.
The last mory: a rainy night.
Injured, kneeling before a grave, she swore vengeance. Qi Xiuyuan would pay.
Now, staring at the man before her, every fiber of her being scread one truth:
Qi Xiuyuan.
Prince Ping himself.
Her body moved on its own, grip tightening on the blade.
Prince Ping was already up, guards forming a futile periter. Yet he stepped forward, undeterred.
“Cough…” He rubbed his bruised stomach, eyes alight with baffling joy. “Jiu Yue, it’s really you. I… I’m so glad.”
“Are you?” She closed in, smiling sweetly, blade at his throat. “Then you’ll be gladder soon.”
Blood welled. Shock and regret flashed in his eyes.
“I know you hate … I was wrong. I’m sorry.” His voice trembled with sincerity. “Only after losing you did I realize… Every word is true.”
Jiu Yue: “…”
Disgust coiled in her gut.
But she had no ti for it—her mind had shifted.
Death was too kind. He’d suffer.
Jiu Yue: “…”
Uh. How?
Her body still wasn’t hers. Rage and restraint warred within, yet the blade stayed put.
The answer ca: torture him, but keep him alive.
Those fragnted mories… perhaps tied to the victim.
Hidden assassins lurked nearby. Killing Prince Ping now ant a swift, fatal counterattack—no escape, no framing Sima Qing.
No clean exit.
Since the truth of the matter remained unclear for now, Jiu Yue hesitated briefly before deciding to follow her instincts and spare Prince Ping’s life—for the ti being.
With that, she shifted her mindset and began acting according to the script Sima Qing had given her.
“You’re really happy to see ?” She eyed him skeptically, pressing the blade in her hand a little harder, half-convinced. “You didn’t deliberately leak information to the regent, sending him after ?”
The blood on Prince Ping’s neck flowed even more freely.
The pain grew sharper, but Prince Ping’s eyes flickered with calculation as he studied Jiu Yue with newfound scrutiny. “The regent is hunting you?”
Jiu Yue frowned, her voice laced with indignation. “Yes! I was chased all the way to the edge of a cliff… If it wasn’t the regent, was it you?”
Her gaze bore straight into his.
“How could it be ?” Prince Ping feigned regret, lowering his eyes to avoid hers. “I had no idea you were being hunted—only that you’d disappeared without a trace… It’s my fault. I knew Sima Qing was surrounded by experts, yet I still sent you on that dangerous mission to assassinate him.”
Jiu Yue kept her expression neutral, but internally, she was reeling.
What?!
Assassinate Sima Qing?!
The original host’s final mission was to assassinate Sima Qing?!
No wonder Sima Qing had been so confident, telling her that as long as she steered the conversation toward him, Prince Ping wouldn’t suspect a thing… Turns out, it wasn’t just a script—it was Sima Qing’s real-life experience!
A sudden mory flashed in her mind—the image of Sima Qing in a wheelchair when she first arrived at his estate. Jiu Yue’s eyelid twitched.
So… Sima Qing’s leg injury was her doing?
Even after that, he still let her stay in his household? Jiu Yue couldn’t help but think Sima Qing was one hell of a patient man.
Her emotions were a tangled ss, but she snapped back to reality when she felt soone nudging her blade. She looked up to see Prince Ping smiling faintly at her.
He spoke softly, “…How about we put the knife away first?”
Glancing at his blood-soaked collar, Jiu Yue decided to show a rare mont of rcy.
“Fine.” She withdrew the blade, then pointed at the man behind her, frowning. “Is he one of yours too?”
Prince Ping’s hand, still pressed to his neck, paused. He looked at her in surprise. “That’s i Wuchang… You don’t rember him?”
Jiu Yue sighed dramatically. “No… After barely escaping with my life, I woke up only rembering the mont I went to assassinate the regent for you. Everything else is a blank.”
As she spoke, she grabbed Prince Ping’s hand and guided it to the back of her head.
“The physician said I have a lump here that’s affecting my mory. Your Highness, feel it—why can’t I find it?” She lied without a shred of guilt.
After all, that’s exactly what the physician had said.
But Prince Ping’s eyes glead with sothing unreadable.
Beneath his palm, there was indeed a sizable bump. A head injury—no wonder Jiu Yue’s temperant had changed so drastically.
For him, this was actually a good thing.
With that in mind, his tone softened with genuine warmth. “You’ve suffered. I’ll make sure to treat you well from now on.”
Jiu Yue: “…”
She forced a fake smile.
Just you wait, you old bastard. Let’s see how much “from now on” you’ve got left.
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