Chapter 31: She Had Not Even Seen His Face Clearly

Ignoring Yun Xi-yan’s hateful glare, Yun Qian-ge struck her mute point once more, retrieved the document of confession from her robes, and turned to leave.

She looked up at the sky, which had shifted from azure to a thick, dark expanse of gathering clouds, signaling an impending storm. She tossed the document into the air and drew a ribbon from her waist. No, it was not a ribbon; a closer look revealed it to be a soft sword. With lightning speed, she struck the paper a dozen times in a reverse grip—the movement so swift it was a mere blur of white light. Shreds of paper danced in the wind, drifting away with a desolate, haunting elegance.

She retracted the blade, winding it back around her waist like a belt, an accessory that only enhanced the beauty of her crimson dress. As she stood in the wind, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a trace of melancholy lingered in her eyes. The wind was rising.

This was the first time he had ever seen her like this. Her red hem fluttered in the autumn breeze, reminiscent of a young girl performing a graceful dance. Her face remained terrifyingly ugly, enough to make anyone recoil, yet what drew him in were those eyes—tinged with sorrow, clear and cold, yet swirling with an indefinable grief. Such beautiful eyes made him feel as though she were a pristine, transparent glass chalice, forced to fall into a filthy gutter and stained by the grime of the world.

Baili Hong-zhe stood outside the Cold Palace. Although many years had passed since he last saw the foolish, incompetent princess, their reunion had taken a turn he never could have expected. It seemed he had stumbled upon something truly extraordinary.

He realized he had to leave, but just as he turned, he felt a cold sensation against his throat. With his back to her, he reached up to touch the bridge of his nose and chuckled, "Princess, I saw nothing."

A chilling curve touched the corners of her mouth. If he had to blame anyone, it was his own terrible luck: "Only the dead keep secrets."

No sooner had she spoken than she drew a shallow bloodline across his neck. Why only a shallow scratch? Because the man had suddenly clamped his fingers around the tip of the blade. A surge of energy seemed to gather in his hand; with a sharp twist, he easily disarmed her, sending the soft sword clattering to the ground.

"You really intended to kill me. Until we meet again, Yun Qian-ge."

She watched, helpless, as the man leaped into the trees. His gentle, jade-like voice lingered in the wind as he vanished into the distance with a few agile bounds.

He knew her? He knew her name? Damn it—he had been too far away, and she hadn't even managed to see his face!

Looking at the sword on the ground, Yun Qian-ge felt her strength evaporate, and she collapsed. An overwhelming, bone-chilling cold invaded every limb. She had lost. She had always been proud and arrogant, for she was a top-tier agent from the twenty-first century, skilled in foreign languages, psychology, hypnosis, combat, and martial arts. She was a leader among her peers, and she naturally possessed advantages that these ancient people lacked. Yet, internal energy and light-body skills truly existed in this world. She let out a dry laugh; these things, which only appeared in television dramas and novels, were a reality here. It seemed that to survive in this alternate kingdom, her current skills were far from enough. She would have to master internal energy and martial arts as well.

She retrieved her sword, but before anything else, she had to handle the immediate crisis. Yun Qian-ge stumbled toward the Yaoguang Palace, her frantic, unsteady gait startling the court ladies and attendants along the way. As she ran, she cried out in terror, "Help... Mother Empress, save me! My sister... she wants to kill me!"