The princess lay on her back upon the floor, eyes tightly shut, her life or death unknown.
An arrow had pierced unerringly into her left breast. The shaft was buried in flesh and bone, its black fletching trembling violently, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue.
And more than ten paces away from the princess, an assassin hung upside down from a roof beam.
The assassin was dressed in night-roaming clothes, his face covered with black cloth. Jiang He’s sudden intrusion did not disrupt his plan. He swiftly drew an arrow, set it to the bowstring, and aimed at Jiang He.
Without the slightest hesitation, Jiang He gripped her blade and rushed forward—not to fight the assassin, but to hide behind the nearest pillar.
Perhaps the assassin was startled by Jiang He’s abrupt approach; his movements hesitated for an instant. And in that very instant, another arrow suddenly flew from behind Jiang He, carrying a sharp rush of wind as it shot toward the assassin.
Someone had arrived, and a master at that. The assassin hastily drew back, flipped over, climbed onto the roof, and, like a crow, vanished swiftly into the night.
Although the assassin had left, Jiang He had no time to breathe in relief.
The commotion here had not yet alerted the guards of the Qi delegation.
But who was the person who had just forced the assassin back?
A man had already halted his steps and was looking down at the Qi princess struck by the arrow.
He was very tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His ink-black robe with a crossed front and narrow sleeves was worn with meticulous neatness, a leather belt at his waist hung with a jade hook. Judging from his attire, he ought to be a noble of Yong.
The man appeared only twenty-one or twenty-two, yet upon that hard, wind-carved, snow-cut face was a pair of eyes deep with calculation. Cold light glimmered within them, like a sharp Longquan sword piercing through solid ice, chilling one’s spine.
“She is dead.”
The man’s voice was cold and low. As soon as he finished speaking, he gripped the princess’s feet with both hands and dragged her into the sleeping hall. A long trail of red blood was left across the smooth floor tiles. Just as Jiang He was about to speak, the man suddenly ordered her, “Wipe it clean.”
Jiang He could be certain of two things. First, this man was not the killer. Second, the nobles of Yong likewise did not wish for news that the Qi princess had died in the capital to spread.
She immediately went forward and wiped the floor clean, then followed the man into the hall and carefully shut the doors.
What should be done now? Invite the chief and deputy envoys of the bridal escort to come and discuss matters properly? Because of such a lapse, Yong would first have to ask Qi for forgiveness, then release the Qi hostage prince to show sincerity.
However, how were they to explain…
The man had already seen the corpse of the guard captain inside the hall.
His thick black brows furrowed slightly. His gaze swept over the corpse in its horrifying state of death, then slanted toward Jiang He, who was covered in blood and holding a sharp knife. A hint of surprise appeared in his dark eyes. “You killed him?”
“Yes, but that was because he wanted to…”
The man did not wait for Jiang He to explain clearly. He interrupted her. “You are a maidservant of Qi. What is your name?”
“This servant is Jiang He.” This time, Jiang He explained nothing else.
Some people only cared about what they wanted to know. As for what they did not want to know, it was all time-wasting nonsense.
The man lifted his robe and sat before the dining table. Every movement carried a calm composure as weighty as Mount Tai pressing down, yet restrained and unreleased. He raised his head and looked at Jiang He’s face.
“Do you know who the assassin is?” he asked.
Who was it? Along the way, they had encountered many assassination attempts. Jiang He had deduced that it was some enemy state that did not want Qi and Yong to form a marriage alliance.
“Is it Chu?” she asked.
At present, the only one capable of contending with Yong was Chu.
The man shook his head, his expression unruffled. “It is a spy of my Great Yong. That is why I waited here—to see who would be the first to rush in and inquire.”
So that was it.
This man had perhaps heard some rumor, which was why he had suddenly broken into the temporary palace, intending to save the Qi princess’s life.
Although he had arrived too late and failed to save the princess, he did not seem discouraged. He merely sat here with a heart of iron and stone, watching to see who would be the first to come and confirm whether the Qi princess was dead.
That person would not be able to escape suspicion of the assassination.
So the assassin was from Yong?
Seeing this man’s certain and composed manner, it seemed this was an answer beyond question.
“Since this is a mistake committed by someone from Yong,” Jiang He looked up and asked, “will you therefore request the new ruler to release the Qi hostage prince back to Qi?”
The corner of the man’s lips moved in a faint smile, as though her question were laughable and childish.
“I think there is a better solution. For example, you will prove that the princess was killed by an assassin from Wei. Then Yong and Qi will join hands to destroy Wei.”
“I will not!” Jiang He tightened her grip on the knife in her hand once more.
She had not expected that this savior who had appeared so suddenly would turn out to be a vicious Yong strategist, as poisonous as a snake or scorpion.
“You will,” the man said, his fingers tapping twice upon the dining table, his sharp edge fully revealed. “For example, for the safety of your family.”
“I have no family left.” Jiang He took a step back.
The man’s pupils contracted slightly, and his eyes narrowed faintly. Just then, a chaotic clatter of footsteps suddenly came from outside the sleeping hall.
The voice of the chief envoy of Qi’s bridal escort sounded first.
He seemed to be trying to stop someone.
“It is already deep into the night. It would be best not to disturb Her Highness. Even if there are traces of an assassin, I ask that the Commandant General first remain calm.” The chief envoy’s voice was filled with worry and agitation.
The Commandant General was the official responsible for the defense and public security of Yong’s capital region.
The chief envoy must have known that the princess had dismissed the defenses before and behind the sleeping hall. He was worried that the princess had been handling private matters and did not wish to be disturbed, which was why he was so nervous.
However, that general was clearly exceedingly anxious. Without allowing any objection, he strode to the outside of the princess’s sleeping hall and said loudly, “An assassin has entered the embassy. For the sake of safety, I must trouble Your Highness to rise and allow us to enter the hall to search.”
Jiang He looked toward the Yong man sitting inside the room.
The man’s gaze was icy as he pondered intently. Suddenly, he picked up the bow and arrows resting on the dining table, nocked an arrow, drew the bow, and aimed at Jiang He. “Jiang He, you deal with them. Make them leave.”
The people outside were holding their breath, waiting for the princess’s response.
And inside the room, the sound of the bowstring being drawn was as faint as a venomous snake slithering through grass.
Jiang He had nowhere left to retreat.
There was not much time.
Surviving came first.
Jiang He quickly walked to the princess’s corpse and pulled out the gold ornament slanting from the top of the princess’s hair.
The gold ornament was six cun wide and ten cun tall, inlaid with coral and pearls, with an exquisite design. It was the princess’s favorite hair ornament. Jiang He placed it atop her own head, adjusted its position before the mirror, then asked in a muffled voice, “Who is it?”
Compared with her voice, the princess’s voice was sharper and brighter. Back in Qi, because the princess had been exhausted from dealing with envoys from various states, she had once made Jiang He cover her face with fine gauze and pretend to be her. Jiang He could imitate the princess’s voice to ninety percent likeness. She had not expected to use it here.
As expected, the chief escort envoy outside heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing those words. He repeatedly apologized from outside and urged Yong’s Commandant General to leave.
Yet the Commandant General refused to let the matter drop. Again and again, he requested to enter the hall and inspect it, saying he was worried the assassin might be hiding in the roof beams or some such place, and that only after searching could he feel at ease.
Jiang He stepped in front of the candle and deliberately bent her knees slightly so that her height matched the princess’s.
The candlelight cast her shadow upon the fine gauze of the window lattice. The gold ornament swayed faintly atop her head, and a flash of splendor seemed to rush forth.
Jiang He burst into curses. “You bear-whelp! When I tell y’all to get lost, y’all get lost! Must this palace use an eight-spoked wheel to fan you all out?”
These were all Qi’s local curses.
On ordinary days, if the teaching mamas who accompanied the princess were not at her side, the princess would curse people like this too.
The Yong Commandant General outside was clearly stunned by those words. Though he did not understand them, he knew full well their meaning was certainly not praising him for his dedication. The Qi chief envoy seized the moment while the Commandant General was dazed from the scolding, pushing and tugging him away, and led the general back.
Jiang He removed the head ornament and turned around. She saw that the man beside the dining table was slowly lowering the bow and arrow. Whether it was Jiang He’s imagination or not, the corner of his lips seemed a little higher than before, as though he had just smiled.
The bow and arrow were once again placed on the dining table, not far from the Yong man’s fingers. A breeze slipped in from who knew where, blowing away the smell of blood. Slowly, another fragrance began to drift through the room.
It was the old duck congee in the three-legged fish-patterned cauldron on the dining table.
Because it was summer, the congee had not yet cooled. Earlier, the reek of blood had masked its aroma. Now that the bloody smell had dispersed, the fragrance of congee spread through the sleeping hall in the depth of night, making one suddenly sense, amid this desperate situation of torn flesh and spilled blood, a few traces of human warmth and smoke that were utterly out of place.
The fish-patterned cauldron was very close to the Yong man. Clearly, he also smelled the soup and congee. He looked up at Jiang He. “You made this?”
Jiang He nodded and said yes.
“Two paths.” The man’s thoughts were dark and heavy, his eyes fixed on Jiang He as he scrutinized her carefully. After a long while, he slowly said, “Either die, or marry into Yong as empress.”
“Why?” Jiang He stepped closer and questioned him. “You already know who the Yong spy is. Even if Great Yong and Qi cannot form a marriage alliance, Yong can avoid war by sending the hostage prince back.”
The greatest purpose in Great Qi sending a princess to marry was also the hope that Yong would release the prince Qi had left in Yong as a hostage. Between Yong and Great Qi lay two or three other states; they would not easily go to war over this.
“The spy is not the Commandant General,” the man said. “He was used by someone else.”
So that was it. That was why he wanted to pretend the Qi princess had not died and let the wedding proceed as usual, using this to find the spy.
But what did that have to do with her?
Jiang He forced down her anger. She recalled the time it had taken for the man to pick up the bow, nock an arrow, draw, and aim just now, judging whether, if she ran out with all her strength, she could make it to the corridor outside before she was struck.
After what had just happened, the chief envoy would certainly have already arranged defenses not far away. As long as she ran out, she could survive.
But the man bent down and picked up a letter.
“To be opened by Jiang He,” he read the words on the envelope. “So although you have no family, you do have someone you care about.”
Jiang He sneered. “He is not here. You cannot do anything to him.”
“What about Qi, then? Your motherland—do you not have the slightest feeling for it either? Let us make a deal. Once Yong has investigated the spy clearly, I will let you leave.”
Jiang He’s expression shifted faintly, but she said nothing.
She lowered her eyes and looked at the letter on the floor, stained by fresh blood. She did not know whether she still had the life to read these letters.
Before her eyes appeared the image of that young man dressed in robes white as clouds and snow. Amid the swirling blizzard, he carried her on his back, his voice tense yet gentle. “Jiang He, hurry and go. Only by leaving can you live.”
But now, to survive, she had to walk a path she loathed.
The Yong man stated his final condition. “Live. The hostage prince returns to Qi. I will not kill the person who wrote to you. In exchange, you will briefly marry into Yong. Moreover, the ruler of Yong will not touch you.”
Not touch her?
This strategist of Yong truly understood the human heart too well.
He knew what mattered most in Jiang He’s heart.
Like a hook she could not refuse—even knowing that behind it lay unfathomable danger, Jiang He still had no choice but to bite down and exchange it for a momentary path to survival.
“Will the ruler of Yong agree to all this?” Jiang He looked into his eyes, trying to catch any minute expression that might reveal a lie.
“Rest assured.” The man indolently turned his head away, shifted into a more comfortable sitting posture, pulled the fish-patterned cauldron filled with old duck congee before himself, and picked up a wooden spoon.
“Next,” he said mildly, “my people will come clean this place.”
Sure enough, not long after, people came. They placed the bodies of the princess and the guard captain into wooden chests and carried them away. Others came to clean the bloodstains and replace the soiled bed curtains and bedding. Jiang He had originally worried that people from the delegation would discover them, but when she saw the chief escort envoy waiting with people outside the hall doors, she finally understood. So the chief escort envoy of Great Qi was a Yong spy hidden within Qi.
Jiang He pondered to herself.
If there was ever a chance, she had to tell the Qi emperor the chief envoy’s true identity.
The old duck soup had already been eaten by the Yong man until not a drop remained. He took out a white silk handkerchief and wiped the corner of his lips clean, then rose in satisfaction.
“Do not worry,” he said softly as he passed by Jiang He. “The Qi chief envoy will not return alive. Even if you send a letter exposing his identity to Qi, it will already be useless.”
The next day, all the maidservants and mamas attending the princess were replaced with new people. They treated Jiang He with utmost respect and served her in washing and changing her clothes with meticulous care.
Someone said in a low voice that an assassin had entered the embassy last night. That assassin had killed the guard captain, and Jiang He, the female official of the delegation, had died as well.
Jiang He was dead. From now on, for a long while, she would be Jiang Yuheng.
The third day was the wedding.
Yong’s wedding rites were not as complicated as Qi’s. With a bridal veil covering her head, Jiang He completed all the ceremonies under the guidance of the mamas. Then night deepened, and she sat down upon the dragon bed in Yong’s imperial palace. Before long, she heard someone open the door and enter. The eunuchs and palace maids waiting quietly inside knelt and kowtowed.
“Congratulations, Your Majesty.”
The new ruler of Yong had arrived.
The eunuchs and palace maids filed out, and soon only the two of them were left in the sleeping hall. Jiang He was somewhat worried. Through her clothes, she touched the sharp knife hidden in her sleeve.
They had agreed he would not touch her. If the people of Yong did not keep their word, she would teach them a lesson.
A long, elegant hand reached over and lifted the bridal veil from Jiang He’s head.
The man’s broad figure blocked the candlelight, but Jiang He still recognized him at a glance.
“It’s you?”
This was precisely that Yong strategist from when the princess had been assassinated. No wonder he had been able to remain calm and composed, arranging everything with decisive speed.
The new ruler of Yong, Zhao Zheng, bent down. His fingers easily pulled away the red silk sash wrapped around Jiang He’s slender waist.
Her clothes loosened.
“You broke your word!”
Jiang He swiftly drew the sharp knife.
“I said I would not touch you,” Zhao Zheng said. “But I never said I would not undress you.”