Chapter 44: Order to Attack the Island

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“Greetings, Prince Xuan.” As the pair emerged, the gathered crowd bowed to Meng Yuanheng.

Last night, after Meng Yuanheng had willfully carried Shen Qianmo away from Wujiao Island, Yun Yi had led the forces of Woyun Manor in a fierce battle against the Wujiao Sect, and now, still filled with resentment, he watched Meng Yuanheng stride out with Shen Qianmo in his arms, both looking perfectly refreshed. His tone was cool and indifferent as he remarked, “His Highness seems so entranced with his beauty that he nearly couldn’t rise from the bed this morning.”

Meng Yuanheng shot him a sidelong glance, snorting coldly from his nostrils, yet his arm remained firmly wrapped around Shen Qianmo’s slender waist.

Shen Qianmo, composed and unflustered, offered Yun Yi and Zhang Xian a gentle smile and nodded in greeting. After all, her relationship with Meng Yuanheng was now not only bound by an engagement but had also crossed into the reality of husband and wife. There was nothing left to be embarrassed about.

Seeing this, Yun Yi, feeling a bit awkward, rubbed his nose and turned away, though inwardly he admired Shen Qianmo’s grace and composure. Even the usually stern Zhang Xian couldn’t help but let a smile slip across his face.

“Cousin!” Shen Qianmo beamed as she spotted Xie Mingyu and hurried toward him.

Xie Mingyu was visibly moved. For days, he had been worried about Shen Qianmo’s safety, and now, seeing her unharmed, joy radiated from his face.

“Mo’er, your face…” Xie Mingyu gazed at her now flawless features, unable to hide his confusion.

Shen Qianmo touched her left cheek with a mischievous smile. “Yes, it was healed at the Wujiao Sect. I won’t have to worry about frightening anyone anymore.”

“That’s wonderful.” Xie Mingyu broke into a broad grin. “Who would have imagined you’d be so beautiful, it’s hard to look away.”

“Thank you for the compliment, cousin.” Their banter was easy and familiar, and Shen Qianmo answered with a smile before turning to greet Feng Ze and Lord Lu.

“Feng Ze, Lord Lu.”

Though Lu Ziqing was struck by Shen Qianmo’s beauty, he quickly regained his composure; to him, a woman’s beauty was not everything. Since witnessing her selfless rescue at the Xie residence, his previous reservations had faded, replaced by genuine respect. He returned her greeting politely.

Feng Ze, on the other hand, wore a dark expression and remained silent. He had just learned from Situ Gong that Shen Qianmo had been poisoned and that Prince Xuan had saved her. Although the method of saving her had not been explicitly stated, he could guess the truth. Now, seeing her and Meng Yuanheng emerge so intimately together, his suspicions were confirmed, and a wave of blood surged to his head, making it painful even to breathe.

His shadowed gaze was fixed on Shen Qianmo, and as his grip tightened around his teacup, there was a sharp crack—ceramic shards sliced open his palm, and blood began to flow freely from his right hand.

The others turned at the sound. Shen Qianmo stepped forward, concern in her voice. “Feng Ze, are you alright?” He looked even more unwell than before.

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Feng Ze shook his head. Clenching both fists, he concealed his injury, while a complex emotion, unreadable to Shen Qianmo, flickered in his dark eyes.

Traveling together, Xie Mingyu and Lu Ziqing immediately sensed the undercurrents. With a glance of sympathy at Feng Ze, they thought to themselves: General Wuwei, you could fall for anyone, but when it comes to the Princess of Xuan, it’s best to abandon this hope as soon as possible.

Meng Yuanheng, displeased, drew Shen Qianmo’s hand back, his cold gaze fixed on Feng Ze. “If General Feng is fatigued, you may retire and rest.”

Hmph, to dare look at Mo’er like that—be careful or I’ll gouge your eyes out!

Shen Qianmo thought this reasonable. Feng Ze’s pallor surely stemmed from the grueling journey. Looking at Xie Mingyu and Lu Ziqing, though they fared slightly better, exhaustion was plain on their faces as well.

She was about to support Meng Yuanheng’s suggestion that the three retire for rest when suddenly Yan Mo arrived to report.

Yan Mo, soaked to the skin, entered and bowed to Meng Yuanheng. “Your Highness, two spies from the Wujiao Sect have been captured. Please give your orders.”

These spies had tried to sneak into their fleet’s waters, hoping to gauge their strength.

Meng Yuanheng’s expression didn’t change. After a moment’s thought, he gave a decisive order: “Kill them. Pass on my command: tonight, we attack Wujiao Island.”

Shen Qianmo glanced at him, thinking to herself that Prince Xuan was indeed swift and resolute, a man of action. She could not deny that such decisiveness was deeply attractive.

Night fell, and the assault on the Wujiao Sect began in earnest.

Meng Yuanheng dispatched Yan Mo to lead a vanguard of a hundred elite troops. Having spent days undercover within the Wujiao Sect, Yan Mo knew the island’s terrain intimately and had even produced a detailed map of Wujiao Island, a crucial aid for the night’s assault. Having him lead the charge was the perfect choice.

Zhang Xian and the others praised the map highly. It not only included all the mountains and valleys but also marked the hidden mechanisms and passages as thoroughly as possible. The Wujiao Sect was known for its cunning and cruelty, far beyond what regular soldiers could imagine.

Yet Yan Mo, embarrassed, admitted that the map was drawn under the Princess’s instruction and not his own accomplishment. The others looked at Shen Qianmo in astonishment; who would have thought a sheltered young lady could possess such skill?

Shen Qianmo did not deny it. Indeed, she had taught Yan Mo how to draw the map. The conquest of Wujiao Island was inevitable, but the island’s complex terrain and hidden traps, along with its warships, made swift victory difficult. From the moment she set foot on the island, she had prepared for this.

What she hadn’t expected was Yan Mo’s aptitude; he grasped her instructions instantly and produced a map even better than she had hoped. It seemed a waste for him to serve only as a shadow guard.

Meng Yuanheng and Yun Yi led the forces of the Xuan Prince’s Residence and Woyun Manor as the main force, following close behind Yan Mo’s vanguard. Meanwhile, Feng Ze, Lu Ziqing, and Xie Mingyu, with their government troops, remained on the warships under Zhang Xian’s command, prepared to face the Wujiao Sect’s fleet.

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Shen Qianmo accompanied Meng Yuanheng to Wujiao Island, simply because he didn’t want to give Feng Ze any chance to be alone with her, and he was confident in his ability to protect her.

Shen Qianmo had no inkling of Meng Yuanheng’s little schemes, but she was happy to go along, as she was worried about Old Man Duan from the Hundred Herbs Hall. Of all the people in the Wujiao Sect, he was the one she most hoped would remain unharmed.

And then there was Little Guai. She recalled hearing from Yin Zhan that Little Guai was likely raised by Old Man Duan and must also be at the Hundred Herbs Hall now.

Watching Meng Yuanheng lead Shen Qianmo away, hand in hand, Feng Ze’s gaze grew even dimmer.

The vanguard led by Yan Mo was composed of the finest shadow guards from the Xuan Prince’s Residence and Woyun Manor; their fighting prowess was formidable. They advanced with unstoppable momentum, piercing straight into the heart of the Wujiao Sect.

Thus, Shen Qianmo encountered little resistance along the way—especially with Meng Yuanheng’s attentive protection.

Witnessing Meng Yuanheng’s care for Shen Qianmo—treating her as if she were a precious gem, terrified she might break or melt—Yun Yi was utterly astonished. He never would have believed, not in a hundred years, that Meng Yuanheng, always so cold and distant, would one day dote on a woman with such tenderness. He couldn’t help but stifle his laughter, earning himself several sharp looks from Meng Yuanheng.

As they pressed onward, fighting as they went, they encountered many traps set by the Wujiao Sect, but Meng Yuanheng and Yun Yi neutralized them one by one.

Corpses of the Wujiao Sect’s followers lay strewn across the ground, mingled with the bodies of several shadow guards, a testament to the ferocity of the battle.

From the distant sea came the glow of flames—the clash between Zhang Xian’s fleet and the Wujiao Sect’s navy had begun.

Shen Qianmo inspected the fallen and confirmed that the shadow guards and sentinels were dead.

Yun Yi knelt and gently closed their unseeing eyes, his expression solemn.

“Take their bodies back for a proper burial,” Meng Yuanheng said, standing tall in the wind, his robes billowing. His voice betrayed no emotion.

Shen Qianmo stepped forward and quietly took his hand, offering silent comfort.

To remember to care for the dead in such moments—perhaps, at his core, Meng Yuanheng was not so cold and ruthless after all. Shen Qianmo felt a measure of relief.