The golden crow dipped westward as the moon rose and stars emerged.
A faint mist settled over the capital, shrouding the deep night in silence.
From the rear corner gate of the Prime Minister’s residence, a carriage sped urgently toward Fragrant Pavilion.
Inside, Yang Qian was contentedly toying with a barbed whip in his hand.
Having lost the bidding for the courtesan’s first night that day, he had endured open mockery and veiled ridicule from the young noblemen.
Recently, even more unpleasant rumors had surfaced from who-knows-where, claiming he was inferior to Shen Xiuwang in every way.
He couldn’t even bed a courtesan.
What an utter disgrace!
In the entire capital, if he dared claim second place in the art of bedding women, no one would dare claim first!
If not for Prime Minister Yang confining him to the residence for days, he would have long gone to Fragrant Pavilion to prove his prowess.
A mere courtesan—how dare she put on airs!
Even if Shen Xiuwang had slept with her, it didn’t matter. Whoever could bed her would surely vent his pent-up fury!
As Yang Qian wiped the whip clean, a sinister smile crept across his face.
Having slipped out of the residence tonight, he was determined to indulge and satisfy his desires to the fullest.
He shouted loudly to the coachman outside, “Hurry up! I can’t wait any longer!”
While the markets outside the palace were winding down, the palace grounds were ablaze with brilliant lights and silk lanterns stood in rows.
The sound of hoofbeats rose, and a fierce wind swept past.
A figure in black robes raced ahead like a shooting star, tearing through the thick veil of night.
The gate guards widened their eyes in astonishment. Upon recognizing the rider, they immediately raised their voices and shouted.
“The Grand Commandant has returned!”
“Open the palace gates at once! Report to His Majesty!”
In the main hall of the Eastern Palace.
Figures intertwined on the bed.
Eunuch Wang stood waiting outside the hall, his voice shrill: “Your Highness, the Crown Prince, His Majesty urgently summons you.”
Zhao Zhen buried his face in the beauty’s neck, his post-coital warmth disrupted. He grumbled, “Did Father Emperor say what the matter is?”
“Military Governor Shen has returned from Tongzhou. A great victory.”
Zhao Zhen froze mid-action and swiftly rose from the bed.
His gaze darkened imperceptibly as it swept over Xu Yunshu on the bed.
“The Crown Princess need not rise. Rest early.”
The palace maids outside the bed curtains filed in to assist the Crown Prince with dressing and adjusting his crown.
“Your humble consort bids farewell to Your Highness.”
Only after the figure in the bright yellow dragon robe disappeared beyond the door did Xu Yunshu slowly gather her sleeping robe and sit up, her eyes cold and sharp.
Nanny Yao brought over a cup of warming tea and said softly, “Rest assured, Miss. The Yang family’s illegitimate son has already gone to Fragrant Pavilion. Military Governor Shen’s return will be just in time for him to witness the spectacle.”
Xu Yunshu snorted coldly, accepting the teacup and taking a small sip. “A tainted thing isn’t even worth another glance.”
She shifted her sore body, filled with disgust.
“Nanny, prepare water for my bath.”
Under the moon and stars.
Fragrant Pavilion was brightly lit, with decadent music drifting in all directions.
From the innermost room on the second floor came the panicked, angry cries of a young woman.
“Stay away!”
Outside the corridor, Mama Yue weighed the gold ingot in her hand, tucked it into her bosom, and added another lock to the door.
Only then did she turn away, her expression lively and gleeful.
Inside the room, Su Tan retreated step by step until her back pressed against the door, realizing with a start that there was no escape.
She immediately turned and pushed against the door, pulling and kicking until the copper lock outside clattered loudly.
On the bed, Yang Qian had already removed his outer robe and was waving the whip with a careless air.
He stood up angrily and spat, “What the hell! Playing the chaste and virtuous maiden!”
“Shen Xiuwang can sleep with you, but I can’t, is that it?”
Su Tan’s shoulder blades ached from the impact. Locked inside the room, she had no way to escape.
Fear and helplessness washed over her like a basin of cold water, drenching her from head to toe.
A sharp pain suddenly shot through the roots of her hair.
Yang Qian grabbed her long hair, yanking it backward with force, dragging her and throwing her onto the bed board.
With a thud, the girl’s forehead struck the bedpost.
Wooden splinters pierced her skin, and crimson beads of blood welled up.
The man pressed closer, gripping her neck and tearing at her clothes.
The thin, gauzy dress couldn’t withstand such force—the right sleeve ripped off with a sharp tear.
Her snow-white skin, soft and smooth, revealed a vivid, eye-catching Chastity Seal.
Yang Qian, like a bloodthirsty hyena, let out a lewd laugh. “Well, well! So Shen Xiuwang, that spineless coward, hasn’t touched you!”
“Then today, I’ll take the trouble to break you in!”
Su Tan’s head throbbed with pain as she kicked and struggled.
Her throat was squeezed so tightly she could barely breathe. With her left hand, she desperately tried to pry his fingers away.
Driven by lust, Yang Qian reached out to tear open her collar.
Eyes reddening, Su Tan finally felt the blade at her waist. In an instant, she raised her hand and slashed at him with all her strength!
Slice!
The blade, honed to a razor’s edge, carved a long, deep gash across Yang Qian’s repulsive face.
Seizing the moment he clutched his face in pain, Su Tan finally caught her breath. She lifted her foot and kicked him hard between the legs.
Yowl!
Yang Qian howled in agony, one hand covering his face, the other clutching his groin.
The girl scrambled to her feet, legs trembling as she stumbled toward the window. With all her might, she pushed open the wooden shutters.
The street below was eerily silent, but burly guards and pimps still lurked at the mouth of the alley.
She had tried jumping before—only to break her leg, be dragged back, and left with a limp.
But tonight, even if she had only a breath left in her, this vile man would defile her.
Su Tan gripped the blade, her hand trembling uncontrollably.
Trapped between a wolf and a tiger, there was no escape.
Yang Qian gradually recovered from the pain. He grabbed a barbed whip and wiped the blood streaming down his cheek.
With a ferocious glare, he snarled, “You bitch! I’ll kill you!”
Crack!
The whip whistled through the air as it lashed down.
Su Tan dodged sideways, raising her arm to shield her head. A searing, agonizing pain instantly shot across her back.
Skin split, flesh torn, blood streaming.
The barbs dug deep into her tender flesh, tearing out strands of skin and muscle as they were pulled free.
Su Tan’s face turned deathly pale, her frail body swaying unsteadily.
With great effort, she lifted her leg and climbed onto the windowsill…
If death was truly unavoidable tonight, she would die pure and clean outside this building!
Yang Qian spewed filth from his mouth as he raised his hand for a second strike.
Su Tan lifted her arm to block, already prepared to leap.
Bang! The door suddenly crashed to the floor.
Thud! The two door panels slammed down heavily, stirring up a cloud of dust.
The man outside stood like an unshakable mountain—tall, imposing, clad in Black Armor and a silver helmet, his sharp eyes blazing with overwhelming fury.
The sword at his waist was already drawn, gleaming with a chilling light.
Just by standing there, he seemed to cleave through all darkness, his presence awe-inspiring and formidable.
Su Tan leaned against the windowsill, teetering on the edge.
She looked at the newcomer, and a wave of bitter, suffocating sorrow suddenly surged in her chest.
An invisible pressure weighed on her, making it hard to breathe.
Yang Qian was stunned by the sudden turn of events. Before he could even turn around, the newcomer kicked him into a corner.
When he tried to resist, a sharp sword shot straight toward him.
Thud! The blade pierced deeply through his left shoulder, clanging as it pinned him to the wall like a dead fish on a chopping board, unable to move an inch.
Shen Xiuwang stepped over the door panels, striding inside and heading toward the window. He was shrouded in shadow and cold severity.
His gaze as he looked at Su Tan was inscrutable.
The young girl before him seemed a world apart from the courtesan of just over ten days ago.
The young lady’s once snow-white and smooth forehead was now stained with blood, her long ink-black hair cascading down to her waist. Her pristine white gauze dress was splattered with bloodstains, one wide sleeve torn halfway, and the front of her robe was in disarray.
Her rosy, delicate lips were as pale as paper.
Purple-red strangulation marks were clearly visible on her slender neck.
One hand clung to the window frame, while the other still tightly gripped the blade.
The sharp edge had already embedded itself into the palm and between her fingers, yet she dared not let go.
Shen Xiuwang extended his right hand toward her, palm facing upward: “Come down.”
His tone was light but commanding, as domineering and unquestionable as ever.
Su Tan was in pain all over, the taut string in her mind still stubbornly holding on.
She suddenly wanted to ask him.
Wasn’t the Military Governor a man of his word?
Why had he ignored her for over ten days? Why had he used her and then discarded her like worn-out shoes?
Why had he given her a glimmer of hope, only to casually erase it?
And now, why had he suddenly descended like a divine savior?
Facing the man’s deep gaze, Su Tan instinctively clenched her palm.
Unexpectedly, the blade dug deeper. Only when the pain belatedly registered did she hurriedly let go and throw it away.
Shen Xiuwang frowned. Was she frightened out of her wits?
Without waiting for her slow response, he stretched out his long arm, wrapped it around her waist, and effortlessly lifted her down.
As her warm, soft body settled into his embrace, he realized with a start just how violently the young lady was trembling.
Su Tan looked up at him. The man’s armor dug painfully into her skin, but she dared not push him away.
Her eyes reddened, her voice hoarse, she said, “Thank you, my lord.”
The lifeline that had appeared before drowning had resurfaced, and Su Tan could only cling to it desperately for survival.
She did not question the thoughts that had flashed through her mind moments earlier, nor could she afford to throw a tantrum.
Because she had no right to.