Rulan stood beside a massive bronze incense cauldron, watching the thick cedar smoke drift up toward the painted eaves of the main hall.
To her left, General Meng’s guards had posted themselves at the top of the grand staircase, their hands resting lazily on their sword pommels.
They were watching the main entrance, thoroughly convinced that as long as no armed mob stormed the mountain, their duty was complete.
They had established a static perimeter, checking off security protocols in their heads, completely oblivious to what was happening behind them.
Rulan turned her head toward Lian’er, keeping her voice even.
“I am going to walk around the grounds.”
Lian’er immediately straightened, smoothing her clothes.
“Of course, Your Highness. I will fetch the rest of the maids and eunuchs to escort you—”
“No extra maids,” Rulan interrupted, her voice flat and unyielding.
“Just you. The rest of them can stay near the eastern tea pavilion and wait for the morning service to conclude. I do not need a crowd following my every step.”
Lian’er hesitated, looking toward the guards near the stairs, but the princess’s calm, absolute tone left no room for argument.
She bowed her head obediently and fell into step two paces behind Rulan as they set off across the wide stone courtyard.
At first, Rulan’s strategy was simple: blend into the natural flow of aristocratic visitors, navigate toward the outer edges of the compound, and look for an exit or a private pavilion where wealthy families kept their personal doctors.
She took advantage of the environment with practiced discipline.
When a group of high-ranking noblewomen in heavy cloaks glided past a covered walkway, Rulan stepped smoothly behind them, using their wide silk parasols to obscure herself from the guards posted along the inner wall.
She made it through the main plaza, past the secondary scripture hall, and onto a quieter stone terrace connecting the eastern guest pavilions.
Then, she noticed a distinct problem.
A pair of young noble ladies walking toward the lotus pond suddenly stopped mid-sentence, staring directly at her.
Two senior monks carrying brass prayer bowls paused on the stairs, their eyes widening in open astonishment as they took in her frame wrapped in rich, deep green silk.
Rulan’s eyebrow twitched slightly.
In tactical mind, she was a shadow slipping silently through enemy lines, invisible and unseen.
In reality, she was a heavily built, grandly dressed imperial princess whose sheer physical volume made her stand out like a warhorse in a flock of swans.
The slender, delicate noblewomen around her drifted through the courtyard like pale wisps of mountain smoke.
Rulan, by contrast, moved with a heavy, deliberate, grounded presence that was completely impossible to ignore.
‘This is absurd’, Rulan thought, her jaw clenching in deep irritation as she ducked behind a painted wooden pillar to avoid another staring group of temple attendants.
She peeked cautiously around the carved wooden pillar.
Two more palace maids were heading up the covered path, holding silver trays of fresh flowers.
Rulan made a swift, pragmatic decision: stealth by blending into a crowd was a complete failure.
She needed total physical isolation.
She turned to Lian’er, who was looking increasingly bewildered as her princess ducked behind pillars, stone lanterns, and decorative trees like a fugitive dodging the law.
“Lian’er,” Rulan said, keeping her voice low.
“Y-Yes, Your Highness?”
“Go back to the secondary hall,” Rulan instructed.
“Check the schedule for the official incense offering ceremony, and find out exactly how long the senior monk intends to speak before the noble families disperse.”
Lian’er blinked, her face filled with sudden panic.
“Leave Your Highness alone? I cannot! General Meng specifically instructed that Your Highness must remain accompanied at all times—”
“General Meng is currently watching the front gates,” Rulan noted dryly, gesturing back toward the main entrance.
“I am standing inside a holy monastery surrounded by dozens of Buddhist monks and fifty armored guards. Nothing is going to happen to me in five minutes. Go, get the information, and meet me near the eastern lotus garden.”
Lian’er wrung her hands nervously, torn between obedience and her sheer terror of the guards, but Rulan’s sharp eyes held her fast, demanding compliance.
“I… I will be extremely quick, Your Highness!” Lian’er squeaked, bowing hurriedly before turning on her heel to rush back toward the main plaza.
The moment Lian’er’s small figure disappeared around the corner of the painted corridor, Rulan abandoned the stone walkways entirely.
She turned toward the rear of the eastern terrace, where the polished flagstones gave way to a rough, uneven dirt trail that wound upward behind the main temple structures.
This section of the mountain compound was clearly less maintained, far removed from the sight of wealthy donors.
The grand red-tiled roofs faded behind a dense, dark canopy of ancient pine and cypress trees.
Tall bamboo groves rustled loudly in the cool mountain breeze, their thick green stalks filtering the bright sunlight into long, pale slants of emerald light.
Rulan picked up her skirts with both hands, stepping carefully over exposed tree roots, loose gravel, and moss-covered stones. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
With every step she took up the winding, neglected slope, the noise of the temple began to dissolve into the background.
The low, rhythmic thrumming of bronze temple bells grew faint and distant.
The polite chatter of wealthy crowds, the clatter of horse-drawn carriages, and the heavy stomping of armored guards faded into total silence.
Finally, she reached a small, abandoned stone clearing nestled beneath the shadow of a towering granite cliffside.
An ancient, weathered stone bench sat near a dry creek bed, half-buried under a thick blanket of fallen yellow leaves.
Silence settled over her.
Rulan closed her eyes, letting out a long, slow, deep breath through her nose.
She enjoyed the blissful silence, right now her ears weren’t filled with the nervous whispers of palace maids, the false pleasantries of court officials, or the constant, lingering threat of poisoned tea cups.
The mountain air here was sharp, clean, and cold, biting pleasantly against her skin and clearing her lungs.
She could hear the soft, natural rustle of wind sweeping through the high pine needles overhead, the gentle chatter of small mountain birds darting between the branches, and the distant, hollow hum of the autumn breeze against the rocks.
She leaned back against the cool, rough trunk of a pine tree, allowing her physically exhausted body to rest, her hyper-vigilant posture relaxing for a brief, rare moment of peace.
Then—
Woof!
Rulan’s eyes snapped open instantly.
Her relaxed posture went rigid in a microsecond, her instincts igniting like dry tinder.
The bark echoed through the quiet woods, coming from somewhere further up the wooded slope, far beyond the thick curtain of wild bamboo.
A second later, a sharp, frantic voice cut through the trees, filled with absolute, shrill terror:
“Help! Someone help me!”
Rulan didn’t move a muscle.
Her eyes narrowed into cold slits as she locked onto the exact trajectory and distance of the sound.
The dog barked again—a deep, low, guttural snarling sound, followed immediately by the sharp crack of breaking dry branches, the heavy rustle of leaves, and the frantic thud of someone scrambling desperately against the loose dirt.
“Help!” the voice cried out again, higher, wilder, and noticeably weaker this time.
Rulan stood up slowly from the pine tree, her wide green silk sleeves catching the cold wind as she stared silently into the dark, tangled shadows of the upper woods.