The main courtyard walls were lined with archers, many burly men in soft armor, their faces full of anxiety.
Seeing the dark, diving shapes descending, one of the tall men raised his hand and signaled:
“Fire.”
A volley of arrows shot forth, and in the next instant, the mass of diving bats scattered in all directions.
But soon, a sharp, chilling “squeak, squeak, squeak” filled the air again, making the hair on everyone’s arms stand on end.
In the next moment, the scattered bats regrouped.
The archers nocked arrows again, released at the command—and again, it didn’t work.
The bats seemed to understand the pattern: whenever arrows were fired, they scattered—and some even flew into the building.
“Your Highness!” one burly man shouted, seeing the chaos inside the window. Panic surged, and he drew his sword to rush in.
Some bats had already flown into the room, attacking Xiao Xingcang.
Screens toppled, tables and chairs crashed.
Xiao Xingcang hurled his long blade, skewering three bats onto a pillar, which instantly let out agonized squeaks.
Hearing those cries, he frowned.
Listening closely for a moment, he realized the cries were all coming from the west side of his room.
If he guessed correctly, wherever he went, the bats would follow.
Steeling himself, Xiao Xingcang immediately ordered: “Don’t let them in. Prepare fire oil.”
He didn’t believe that if arrows couldn’t kill them, fire wouldn’t.
Outside, the men were all seasoned generals who had fought alongside him in the northern border; they moved swiftly.
Within a few minutes, the fire oil was ready, and several centurions were preparing to pour it.
“What are you doing?” Gu Qinglu smelled the fire oil and quickly pushed the archers aside.
She squeezed through the crowd layer by layer and saw, through the tightly closed window, the shadow of a man elongated by the firelight.
“His Highness ordered a fire attack,” someone said. When she looked, it was the matriarch of the Wang family.
Hearing this, Gu Qinglu hurriedly stopped them: “No fire attack!”
Fire wouldn’t kill the bats quickly—it would only make things worse.
All animals controlled by the poison insects, when exposed to fire, would flee—and carry the news back.
She didn’t want to face danger before she had cultivated a way to counter the insects. She needed to eliminate the threat completely to ensure safety for a while.
“Have the maids take you to where I mix the elixir and dig a pit facing west,” she said sharply amid the chaos.
No one moved. The archers on the wall had already dipped their arrow tips in fire oil.
Seeing no one obeyed her, she realized they weren’t her subordinates—they weren’t under her command.
Those who could be commanded were inside, defending with their blades.
Without hesitation, she shouted into the room: “Xiao Xingcang, I want you to honor the three pledges. Make your men follow my orders, or you won’t leave this room.”
Xiao Xingcang had originally ignored her, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the bats he had impaled were flying back at him, wings flapping violently.
It was terrifying—the pierced bats showed no blood and became even more aggressive.
Recalling her strange behaviors, Xiao Xingcang immediately commanded: “Do as the Princess Consort says.”
At his words, the leading generals waved and led their men to the backyard.
The maids followed quickly, hearing the command, guiding the others.
Seeing people move, Gu Qinglu exhaled deeply, lifted her purple bamboo flute to her lips, and played.
The main courtyard was filled with a shrill, discordant sound that pierced everyone’s eardrums.
The previously noisy bats quieted instantly, seemingly soothed by her flute.
Inside, the man wielding the blade finally stopped, able to catch his breath.
The bats inside seemed to be drawn away.
Xiao Xingcang exhaled heavily and swiftly opened the door.
He saw the mass of black bats in midair, wings spread, responding to the flute.
His gaze shifted to the woman under the moonlight.
In her nightclothes, with a crimson silk robe over them, her long black hair whipped in the wind like a waterfall.
Suddenly, she turned, playing the flute as she stepped forward.
Even stranger, the quieted bats spread their wings and followed her direction.
“Your Highness, are you unharmed?” a general asked, snapping out of shock and stepping forward.
Watching her calmly lure the bats away, Xiao Xingcang followed her: “I’m fine. Instruct everyone to keep their mouths shut.”
He now understood why she had demanded the three pledges before removing the poison: she needed his protection.
Once the insects were neutralized, such bizarre events occurred; he couldn’t imagine how dangerous the next steps would be.
In the backyard, those assigned to dig moved quickly. When Gu Qinglu returned, a burly man rushed toward her, bowing.
Gu Qinglu knew it wasn’t for her—it was for Xiao Xingcang.
The flute could not stop; she couldn’t speak, but glanced at him.
He seemed to understand and followed her.
In the alchemy room, Gu Qinglu stopped in front of a row of porcelain bottles.
Xiao Xingcang’s gaze followed her to the labeled bottle.
“Pour the contents into the pit?” he asked quietly, holding the bottle and leaning close.
After asking, he watched her for confirmation.
A smile lit her eyes, and she raised an eyebrow—first cooperation with him, and it felt surprisingly coordinated.
He held the “bait elixir” she had labeled and nodded, signaling her to proceed.
Her flute picked up speed, and she hurried out of the alchemy room toward the courtyard wall.
The diggers looked up; they had originally planned to salute Xiao Xingcang, but he waved them off.
The flute-playing woman walked toward the pit, with bats overhead following the sound.
At the pit, Gu Qinglu glanced at Xiao Xingcang; he understood, adjusted his robe, and poured the bottle’s contents into the pit.
Once done, he watched her for the next instruction.
Gu Qinglu turned slightly, scanning the crowd.
Xiao Xingcang signaled them to step back.
Gu Qinglu focused, closing her eyes, the flute’s sound sharp and weaving.
The bats suddenly flew down into the pit, squeaking loudly.
Xiao Xingcang observed; the bats landed one by one in the pit she had prepared.
He noticed that the corner had become bare—likely due to her alchemy.
Poison expert? Medicine? Alchemy? Madwoman? Resurrection?
Xiao Xingcang pieced it together and thought of someone.
He was lost in thought, ignoring her gaze.
Only when the matriarch saw her signal did she understand: the poisoned creatures had to be buried.
“General Qi, quickly fill the pit, and have men place stones on top—hurry!”
Seeing Gu Qinglu’s complexion gradually turn pale, the matriarch’s heart tightened.
Her flute played continuously, calming the bats.
The pit was filled and covered with stones brought from the garden.
Gu Qinglu relaxed her grip and staggered back.
The matriarch tried to catch her, but a figure moved faster.
Gu Qinglu closed her eyes tightly, expecting to rely on the matriarch.
One hand held the purple bamboo flute, the other grabbed a piece of cloth, breathing heavily.
She hadn’t stopped for half an hour; her lungs were about to burst.
Her ears rang, her mind exhausted.