He shifted his position to hold her, pressing down on her body, holding her tightly.
"W-what are you doing?" Xia Ji woke with a start. Was it finally happening? This beast who forcibly seized women—she had been on edge for so long, and now disaster had finally arrived.
She would never let him have his way.
Xia Ji began struggling with all her might, squirming and writhing in resistance.
The youth pressing down on her lifted his face. The sky had brightened somewhat, and the layered window curtains cast a thin blue light. His skin was so pale it was almost sickly, his ink-black hair cascading like thick ink over Xia Ji's body, his lips tinged with a faint red. He was beautiful, yes, but because of that very beauty—so eerie and bewitching—it was unsettling to look at. He seemed still half-asleep, and his naturally soft, gentle voice sounded almost like he was cooing.
"Comfortable."
Here it was… here it was! Comfortable, my ass! What did that even mean?!
Xia Ji clenched her trembling teeth tightly.
Even if she had to risk her own old life, she would resist to the death. She would smash her head into his—this beast, this madman who forcibly seized women!
Bujing Nu lay sprawled on top of Xia Ji, arms wrapped around her entire body. His strength was too great—Xia Ji couldn't even squirm, let alone struggle. Just as despair set in—
He fell asleep again.
The long, steady sound of breathing resumed. Xia Ji stared in disbelief, eyes wide.
Heavens above, could she just get a clean end already?
Xia Ji had no idea how she survived that night.
When she groggily woke during the day, the nameless youth who had been pressing down on her was gone without a trace, but the ropes binding her hands and feet were still there.
Xia Ji was so hungry her stomach was practically stuck to her spine.
Shanu happened to push the door open just then, bringing in dim light. Xia Ji squinted, locking eyes with the fool at the doorway.
She raised her bound hands, her face drained of all color from the ordeal. Shanu didn't understand what she meant, simply setting out a few dishes of thin porridge and meat before leaving.
"Don't go! Hey! Untie me! Big brother!"
Xia Ji shouted a few times, but Shanu completely ignored her. Xia Ji didn't know that when she'd asked Shanu to fetch a stool yesterday, Shanu had been beaten on the way. Now seeing Xia Ji call out to him, the timid Shanu didn't dare respond at all.
She lay on the bed like a giant caterpillar, utterly despairing.
Heavens above.
Located in Jinling, Prince Beikang's residence was a six-courtyard princely mansion of the highest standard, far from the capital. Because the Emperor pitied that Prince Beikang's young body couldn't withstand the capital's climate, he had specially commissioned medicinal hot springs in a scenic area of Jinling and built the six-courtyard mansion for the Prince's comfortable residence.
Now, within the Great Bei Dynasty, the Second Prince had been placed under house arrest in a temporary palace by the Emperor for plotting rebellion. The eldest son, the Crown Prince, was born mediocre and foolish. The Third Prince, Prince Beikang, had now recovered his health and begun frequently traveling to and from the capital. The Emperor's approval of the Third Prince was becoming increasingly apparent, both openly and covertly.
After another half month in the capital, and with the Xia family of Jinling having been executed and their property confiscated for their involvement in the Second Prince's rebellion, Prince Beikang had just returned to Jinling that day. He sat in the hidden study, listening to several trusted advisors discuss the massacre of the Xia household the previous night.
Former Sima said: "Fifty-three bodies were found at the Xia estate, all slain within the residence."
"Mm." Prince Beikang picked up the Xia family genealogy to examine it. "Not a single one missing?"
The Chief Secretary glanced at the elderly Sima beside him, then stepped forward with clasped hands: "To report to Your Highness, one body is missing."
Prince Beikang looked up: "What happened?"
"The Xia family was utterly loyal to the Second Prince—could one have escaped?"
"This…" The Chief Secretary looked somewhat awkward. "Last night, Commander Liu informed me that one did escape, but presumably they were captured by Your Highness's own trusted men. It was late at night, and the soldiers didn't dare search further. The situation is still unknown."
Prince Beikang gazed at the Chief Secretary for a moment before lowering his head and murmuring "Mm." Then: "You may all withdraw."
"Yes."
The trusted advisors filed out, and the moment they were outside, they began whispering among themselves.
"I heard from my clansmen that it was a Death Soldier from the capital, who had long served at His Majesty's side and was deeply trusted," said Former Sima.
"I see."
"So it seems the Emperor truly favors Prince Beikang—to give away such a Death Soldier who kills without a trace." The Chief Secretary couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.
Former Sima's aged eyes were filled with shrewdness. He glanced at the self-satisfied Chief Secretary but said nothing more.
Was giving this Death Soldier a sign of great trust in Prince Beikang, or was the Emperor, gripped by fear after the Second Prince's rebellion, seeking to add another pair of eyes?
The Second Prince had raised troops in rebellion first. Now, a month later, the Xia, Qin, and Li families implicated in the plot had all been executed to the last member. Fear gripped the capital. At such a time, the Emperor handed this blade to Prince Beikang—was it trust or wariness? Who truly knew the answer?
Inside the hidden study, Prince Beikang still sat in his sandalwood chair, but his expression was no longer as composed as before.
Behind a silk brocade screen embroidered with speckled bamboo and blue magpies, the Death Soldier bestowed by his father knelt upright, awaiting his command.
This Death Soldier had no name or surname, and should have only borne the designation "Seven," but having earned the favor of the Emperor, he was given the nickname Bujing Nu. Prince Beikang had never seen his true face.
He only knew the youth was young in years.
At this moment, the young Death Soldier's kneeling figure was silhouetted against the green-spotted bamboo screen, his frame lean and upright, head slightly bowed, with hair of medium length hanging low—jade-like, bamboo-like. Even just this posture carried an air of someone who could at any moment hurl a blade and sever an enemy commander's head.
He seemed already to have merged with the bamboo screen, like a shadow within a painting.
"Bujing Nu,"—there was generally no need for courtesy with Death Soldiers, but Prince Beikang could no longer change his ways—"How do you find the residence I granted you?"
"Thank you, Your Highness. All is well."
At this, Prince Beikang recalled that his private soldiers had reported seeing what appeared to be Bujing Nu's figure always gravitating toward places where corpses piled up, staying there for an entire night.
Who knew whether Bujing Nu even lived in human dwellings or ate human food.
He knew Bujing Nu's methods. Three years prior, the Bei dynasty had won a victory in battle, and the Jin state had surrendered. Killing surrendered troops on the battlefield was taboo, but the Jin were masters of going back on their word. At the time, several thousand Jin soldiers had survived, and on their return route to Jin, they passed through the state of Zhao. Bujing Nu alone had slaughtered all the Jin surrendered troops at the Zhao border, then carried the head of the surrendered general Wuluqi, packed it in a chest, and delivered it to the Emperor.
Now, with its greatly reduced forces, the Jin state still harbored irreconcilable enmity with Zhao.
Bujing Nu was a Death Soldier skilled in slaughter and naturally gifted in military strategy—extremely rare—but his temperament was beyond human comprehension.
"I have heard something. The Xia family had fifty-three corpses, but one is missing. Some say it went to you. Is that so, Bujing Nu?"
"Yes."
Prince Beikang felt at ease. He had said it—with Bujing Nu on the case, how could anything go wrong?
"Where is the corpse? The Xia family of Jinling enjoys great support among the people. The Emperor said that all fifty-four Xia family corpses should each be given a grave—count it as our magnanimity, not stooping to the level of rebels. Bujing Nu, this small matter need not trouble you further. Just tell me, and I will send someone."
As he spoke, he kept hearing a strange sound.
Like something scratching. Prince Beikang, somewhat alarmed, glanced around and discerned that the sound was coming from the screen.
"Bujing Nu?"
"Master, this slave will bring it for you."
Bujing Nu had never lied to his master.
Prince Beikang wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't asked—after all, even Bujing Nu, having changed masters and changed places, had developed some unconscious habits. But when Prince Beikang asked, it made him stare at the opposite wall with his pitch-black empty eyes, his fingertips incessantly scratching at the floor mat beneath him. His pale fingers still bore dried blood that wouldn't wash clean, and the scratching smeared it onto the mat—he was clearly agitated and restless to an extreme.
Prince Beikang: "No need for you to trouble yourself, Bujing Nu. Just tell me the location of the corpse."
"Master, this slave will bring it for you."
Prince Beikang: "…Very well, as you wish."
"This slave takes his leave."
"Mm. There is a carriage prepared for you at the gate. Bujing Nu—"
There was no reply. The figure behind the screen had already vanished. Prince Beikang felt somewhat helpless, yet also let out a great sigh of relief.
Somehow, sharing a room with this Bujing Nu always kept his nerves taut.
He was actually somewhat wary of a Death Soldier who should, at all times, be willing to die for his master. How could this be?
Xia Ji sat at the table, managing to lower her head and drink half the porridge. As for the other dishes, she truly couldn't bring herself to lower her head and snatch at them with her mouth.
Heavens above! Xia Ji paced anxiously in circles around the room. She didn't dare wriggle her way into the other rooms either, afraid she might run into another madman who would give her a good thrashing.
After all, bad things come in threes.
And she had barely managed to wriggle onto the stool with tremendous effort. Xia Ji had now, from both spirit and flesh, transformed from "starving to death" to "barely alive and half-dead."
At least the burning hunger in her stomach had subsided somewhat—it was just still quite hungry. Did this porridge whet the appetite, or what?
Xia Ji smelled the dishes on the table, drool pooling in waves.
Maybe she should just abandon all dignity and lower her head to take a bite?
That madman with blood all over his face still ate his food.
Xia Ji frowned. Just as she was about to bend down and try to snatch a bite of food, the door was suddenly kicked open.
It startled Xia Ji.
She turned around in a fluster.
The handsome madman was back.
Xia Ji didn't see the dagger in his hand. Bujing Nu always killed without a trace. His pitch-black pupils fixed on her, but met Xia Ji's apricot-shaped eyes that were nearly brimming with tears of joy.
Because—she had almost lowered her head to grab food with her mouth!
"You're finally back!" Xia Ji couldn't hide anything at all, not a shred of pretense. "I was about to starve to death! You—can you untie me, please?"
Anyway, she'd already been caught by this madman.
If she went out—with her current body's situation of having her entire family executed, and the chaos of these times—the moment she stepped out, she'd probably be exposed through some hole in her story, dragged out, and chopped into mincemeat.
Just thinking about it was terrifying. She didn't dare think about it.
She needed to build a good relationship with this madman.
He could communicate, and he was good-looking—even if he was a lunatic… even if he was a lunatic!
Xia Ji raised her hands toward him, showing him her current bound state.
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm just, I'm just… I'm your woman!"
Xia Ji said this with great force.
It was utterly humiliating.
To shout such words at a youth who clearly looked so much younger than her.
Bujing Nu stood at the doorway, unmoving for a long time.
He approached with the Human-faced Dagger in hand, and Xia Ji sat obediently on the chair, even showing him her bound hands.
She was hungry and wanted to eat—he had forgotten that she, too, needed to eat.
"Quick, untie me."
Her hair was disheveled, and her soft, fair face wore a pitiful plea as she gazed at him with eager eyes. Bujing Nu raised the dagger that could sever her head.
His strength was enough that he could easily cut off a person's head with just the dagger.
People nowadays had been frightened by the chaos of these troubled times; the sight of a blade sent them into terror. Whenever they saw Bujing Nu's figure raise the dagger, they would scream in fear, weep, beg, or curse him as a demon, vowing that even as ghosts they would not let him go.
Bujing Nu did not know what ghosts were, and felt nothing about it.
But no one had ever looked at him with such foolish, simple hope, raising both hands like that. Even Shanu knew to run at the sight of a knife.
In anyone else's eyes, they would have thought Xia Ji was an alien, but in Bujing Nu's eyes—
Another fool.
Bujing Nu stared at her, his pitch-black pupils sending a chill through her heart. Xia Ji shrank her shoulders, realizing belatedly that Bujing Nu holding the dagger was quite frightening.
Having lived in a peaceful world for too long, her daily worries were only about having to go to work, having to work overtime, and being careful not to point the tip of scissors at anyone when handing them over. Suddenly transported here, even after seeing so many corpses, Xia Ji still did not have much vivid sense of reality.
She grew afraid, her scalp tingling with fear, and slowly lowered her hands: "If—if you really don't want to untie me, then forget it."