Winter nights were long and the days were short. As darkness gradually descended, the wilderness shifted from misty twilight into an abyss of impenetrable blackness in less than an hour.
An Embroidered Uniform Guard leaned against a tree trunk, popping the last of his stir-fried peanuts into his mouth. Lighting the lantern beside him, he looked once more toward the direction of the hot spring and muttered, “It’s already nightfall, and Lord Su is still soaking in there? Doesn’t he fear water snakes?”
Gao Shuo shot him a glare. “Nonsense. Where the h*ll would a water snake come from in a hot spring?”
Unconvinced, the Embroidered Uniform Guard pressed on, “Even if there’s no snake, what if he slips in the dark and knocks himself unconscious? Shouldn’t someone go check?”
Gao Shuo sneered, “Are you worried about his safety, or just trying to sneak a peek at him bathing?”
The Embroidered Uniform Guard flushed red and nearly jumped up, ready to fight. Chu Yuan cut in sharply, “Enough, both of you. Stand your posts and keep watch!”
After a moment of thought, Chu Yuan raised his voice toward the “Plum Immortal Spring,” calling out, “My lord, it’s dark now. Do you have any orders?”
A response came swiftly, Su Yan’s voice carrying over the three-hundred-step distance, just audible through the brush and trees: “Nothing. I’m enjoying my soak. I’ll get up in a while. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
Gao Shuo sprawled across a tree branch, arms crossed behind his head, chewing on a blade of grass. With a smirk, he chuckled, “Hear that? He’s enjoying himself. Best not to ruin his fun.”
The other Embroidered Uniform Guard shot him a glare. “He’s the one having fun, not you. What are you so pleased about?”
Gao Shuo scoffed silently—You don’t know a d*mn thing.
Just then, a dark shadow swept through the air, carried by a sudden gust of wind. The Embroidered Uniform Guard immediately sprang into action, drawing their blades. “Who goes there?”
The figure emerged from the darkness—it was Jinghong Zhui. His expression was grim as he asked, “The lord is still in the pool? Alone?”
Gao Shuo raised an eyebrow. “If he’s bathing solo, does that not mean he’s alone? What, you expect there to be a group?”
Jinghong Zhui frowned. “Didn’t you hear the water splashing?”
The Embroidered Uniform Guard listened closely, then shook their heads. Gao Shuo’s tone was sharp, “If he’s swimming around, of course the water splashes. What’s so strange about that?”
Still uneasy, Jinghong Zhui muttered, “I’m going to take a look.”
This time, not only Gao Shuo but all the nearby Embroidered Uniform Guard reached out to block him. Chu Yuan warned, “I just asked. The lord is fine. If you approach the spring without orders, you’ll be accused of invading his privacy.”
Jinghong Zhui, already losing patience, snapped coldly, “I am his personal guard. Ensuring his safety is my duty!”
Before the words had fully left his lips, he was already gone, launching himself forward like an arrow released from the bowstring, cutting through the trees with lightning speed.
Gao Shuo shouted after him, “—Jinghong Zhui!”
For Jinghong Zhui, the three-hundred-step distance was nothing—he reached the poolside in mere moments.
At that instant, the cold moon rose over the eastern mountains, casting a silvery glow over the snowy landscape. In its pale reflection, a scene became vividly clear to his sharp eyes.
Beneath the gnarled old plum tree, Lord Su lay bare-skinned, his long hair loose, pressed forcefully against the warm stone edge of the pool. The man atop him gave a deep, shuddering growl as he reached his peak, the sound laced with tremors of pleasure.
As Gao Shuo’s shout echoed through the forest, the man turned his face toward him, locking eyes in a defiant glare.
Jinghong Zhui’s heart twisted with rage, his sword unsheathed in an instant, its edge humming like a dragon’s cry. A brilliant arc of silver light streaked through the air, gathering the icy wind and swirling snow into a single lethal strike—aimed directly at Shen Qi’s brow.
It was an attack of absolute resolve. Not even gods or ghosts could escape it.
Shen Qi knew the attack was meant for him, but his first thought was of the man beneath him. Worried that Su Yan might be harmed by the sword’s aura, he wrapped his arms around him and rolled away to the side.
Su Yan was still in a post-climax daze, his mind blank and unaware of what had just happened. Suddenly, a swirl of snowflakes rushed toward him, followed by a fierce gust of wind. Startled, he let out a cry and clung tightly to Shen Qi as they both tumbled back into the hot spring.
Jinghong Zhui had no choice but to divert his sword energy, redirecting it toward the large plum tree by the pool.
This ancient tree, revered by the locals as the “Plum Immortal,” had stood tall through countless winters. Now, its branches shuddered violently, and a cascade of plum blossoms rained down like golden tears. Moments later, the treetop crashed to the ground—the tree trunk, thick enough to require two people to encircle it, had been sliced cleanly in half by the sword wind.
White snow and golden petals swirled above the steaming spring, falling like a sorrowful, fragmented shower. At the poolside, Jinghong Zhui stood alone, sword in hand, his silhouette stretching long behind him under the moonlight. Staring into the misty waters, he enunciated each word with chilling clarity:
“Get. Out. Now!”
In the hot spring, Su Yan, having choked on water, finally snapped out of his daze. He instinctively clung to Shen Qi, refusing to let him surface.
The killing intent and sword energy ignited a primal beast within Shen Qi, his eyes flashing with a bloodthirsty gleam. He broke free from Su Yan’s grasp, channeling his internal energy into his arm and sending a wave of water crashing toward the shore.
At the same time, he leaped up, hooking his toes around the outer robe hidden in a crevice by the pool, wrapping it around himself in midair. The hem of his robe drew a half-circle of pine-green silk through the air.
Beneath this arc of fabric, a gleaming blade shot forward with lethal precision, whistling through the air as it slashed directly at Jinghong Zhui’s face.
In Jinghong Zhui’s pitch-black eyes, the flash of the blade reflected like a blazing star. He met the attack head-on, his battle intent as sharp as his sword.
Su Yan surfaced, wiped the water from his face, and saw the two figures locked in a fierce exchange amidst the snowy forest. He couldn’t help but gasp in awe.
“Holy sh*t! This is some top-tier action choreography—thirty million in special effects, at least…”
He watched for a few seconds, then suddenly remembered himself, hastily ducking behind a large rock by the pool and scrambling to put on his clothes.
With proper attire, Lord Su regained both his dignity and composure. He first barked an order at the approaching Embroidered Uniform Guard, who were rushing over with lanterns in hand: “Nobody interfere!”
The guards, their embroidered spring sabers in hand, exchanged puzzled glances, sizing up Su Yan and then the two combatants in the forest.
One of them was Su Yan’s personal bodyguard, Jinghong Zhui. The other, a disheveled, robe-clad stranger… Was he an assassin? And why wasn’t Su Yan allowing them to intervene?
Seeing the growing confusion, Su Yan took a deep breath and called out to the fighters,
“Ah Zhui, stand down!”
The sword light seemed to hesitate for a moment before its movements became even fiercer, cutting through the air in a deadly arc that drew a crimson bloom from his opponent’s exposed opening.
Blood dripped onto the snow, stark against the white.
Su Yan’s chest tightened in alarm. He shouted angrily,
“Jinghong Zhui! I said, stand down!”
For the first time, Jinghong Zhui outright defied Su Yan’s orders. He disregarded everything else, launching strike after strike with lethal intent, determined to see his opponent dead on the spot.
Su Yan realized that his headstrong bodyguard was completely out of control. If this fight continued, there would be no peaceful resolution. However, with so many Embroidered Uniform Guard—imperial guards—watching, he couldn’t openly expose Shen Qi’s identity.
With no other choice, he decided to put on a performance.
He clutched his chest dramatically, breathing heavily as if overwhelmed with anger, and then swayed unsteadily, staggering several times for effect. Ensuring he had drawn enough attention, he rolled his eyes shut and collapsed backward—
The two nearest guards, Chu Yuan and Gao Shuo, lunged forward to catch him just in time.
“Lord Su!” they cried in alarm.
The surrounding Embroidered Uniform Guard immediately crowded around, all talking at once.
“What happened to Lord Su?”
“He just collapsed all of a sudden—did he get injured by the residual force of the fight?”
“Quick! Call for the physician!”
“Transfer some internal energy to him—wait, not too much! Lord Su doesn’t practice martial arts; you’ll shatter his meridians!”
Meanwhile, in the midst of battle, the two combatants had locked blades, their inner energies entangled. Whoever withdrew first would suffer immediate injury.
“Let go! I need to check on him,” Shen Qi said coldly.
Jinghong Zhui spat back furiously, “Get lost! If it weren’t for your beastly actions, he wouldn’t be in this state! You have no right to go near him!”
Shen Qi sneered, “He was perfectly fine before you showed up. If anything, you’re the one who injured him! A so-called bodyguard who dares to turn his sword on his own master—why are you still alive? Kill yourself already!”
At that moment, they both wanted nothing more than to tear each other apart. But with Su Yan’s condition uncertain, they had no choice but to break apart and rush toward him.
Jinghong Zhui was the faster of the two. Using his superior lightness skill, he shoved aside the gathered guards and knelt beside Su Yan.
Su Yan felt the familiar presence of his bodyguard and immediately opened his eyes, grabbing his sleeve and half-collapsing against him. He ordered in a firm but weak voice, “Ah Zhui, take me back to the carriage. Right now.”
Shen Qi had just approached when several wary Embroidered Uniform Guards unsheathed their blades and blocked his path.
“Who exactly are you?” one demanded.
The dim lantern light barely illuminated the wild tangle of Shen Qi’s hair and his loosely draped robe. His features were obscured, making it impossible to tell who he was.
Gao Shuo quickly stepped forward, standing in front of Shen Qi to defuse the situation.
“A misunderstanding! This is all just a misunderstanding. He’s an old acquaintance of Lord Su’s. They happened to cross paths here by chance, but Jinghong Zhui mistook him for an intruder.”
The Embroidered Uniform Guard looked at him skeptically.
“How do you know that?”
“Uh…” Gao Shuo hesitated.
Su Yan cut in, “Gao Shuo is right. This was a misunderstanding. It’s over now—disperse and return to camp.”
He gripped Jinghong Zhui’s arm tightly and lowered his voice.
“If you two keep this up, my reputation will be in ruins.”
This statement wasn’t just for his bodyguard—it was also directed at the “old acquaintance” standing beyond the crowd.
Jinghong Zhui realized that what had just happened could never be known by a fourth person. He had no choice but to suppress his murderous rage. Wordlessly, he hoisted Su Yan onto his back and, with a burst of qinggong skill, leapt toward the camp.
Gao Shuo saw Shen Qi still standing there, his eyes cold as he stared at the departing figure of Jinghong Zhui. He quickly lowered his voice and pleaded, “Let’s go, Lord. Get your wounds treated first. There will be plenty of opportunities later.”
Only then did Shen Qi turn away. With a few effortless leaps, he disappeared into the dark forest.
As Jinghong Zhui sped through the night, Su Yan clung tightly to his back. The rush of wind whistled past his ears, and his legs instinctively tightened around his bodyguard’s waist, fearing he might fall.
Jinghong Zhui firmly supported Su Yan’s buttocks with his palm.
Su Yan suddenly felt a small surge of warmth slowly seeping from an indescribable place, soaking through his clothes. His face instantly turned green, and he cried out in shame, “Put me down! I’ll walk by myself!”
Jinghong Zhui also sensed the damp heat in his palm. Thinking that Su Yan was injured and bleeding, he immediately halted, bringing his hand up to check—
His palm was wet, but there was no blood.
Instead, there was an indescribable pungent scent, like the blooming Chinese privet in April.
Realization struck him in an instant. His expression darkened with fury, and he cursed through gritted teeth, “That d*mn b*stard of a Qianhu!”
“…It’s Tongzhi now.” Su Yan instinctively corrected him, then realized he had missed the point entirely. He rubbed his nose in embarrassment and hesitantly asked, “You… saw it?”
Jinghong Zhui wiped his palm on his trousers in disgust, grinding his teeth. “The fact that you suffered such a humiliating disgrace is entirely my fault for failing in my duty. From now on, no matter what happens, I will never again leave you unguarded. As for that wretched dog Shen Qi, once I have ensured your safety back in the capital, I will personally cut off his head!”
Su Yan found himself in a dilemma of utter mortification. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that what had happened wasn’t an assault but mutual consent. Yet he also couldn’t find a reasonable way to forbid Jinghong Zhui from taking action against Shen Qi—especially since this stubborn man wouldn’t listen anyway! For a moment, he hemmed and hawed, unable to get a word out.
Jinghong Zhui grew suspicious. He put Su Yan down and turned to study him. “Why do you hesitate, my lord… Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Su Yan stammered for a long moment before finally lowering his head in shame. “I… didn’t refuse him.”
Jinghong Zhui froze.
A moment later, he snapped, his voice filled with disappointment, “Lord Su!”
Having spent years in the world of assassinations and abductions, he knew all too well how some victims, when faced with life-threatening coercion, were forced to submit in order to survive. In such cases, even a tiny act of leniency from the perpetrator could be perceived as kindness, leading to a twisted form of dependence. Some victims even developed feelings of sympathy, gratitude, or—worst of all—affection for their abuser.
But these emotions were all distortions, mere shadows of the trauma inflicted by violence.
Lord Su might not have resisted forcefully at the time, but that didn’t mean he had consented of his own will. He was still trapped in the lingering effects of trauma, suffering from its unseen wounds.
Su Yan’s face burned with embarrassment. That pained and bitter “Lord Su!” made him want to crawl into a hole and disappear.
Jinghong Zhui clenched his fists tightly, took a deep breath, and slowly released them. Doing his utmost to keep his voice gentle, he said, “This is not your fault.”
“…It’s not?” Su Yan murmured guiltily.
“It’s not!” Jinghong Zhui declared with unwavering certainty. “From now on, I will never let him get near you again. In time, you will break free from his influence.”
Su Yan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Frowning in frustration, he muttered, “We’ve been through life and death together. No matter what… we’re still sworn brothers. We serve in the same court—how could we possibly avoid each other? And besides, the two of us… we…”
Jinghong Zhui thought to himself: The poison runs too deep. If I try to rip it out forcefully, it may do more harm than good. It would be better to ease him away from that b*stard gradually.
So he reassured Su Yan, “No matter how entangled your past is with him, it will all be settled in time. For now, just focus on putting it behind you.”
Su Yan sighed. “You’re right. Overthinking won’t help. I’ll just go with the flow.”
Jinghong Zhui carried him once more and swiftly returned to camp, escorting him into the carriage. He then fetched a basin of warm water and stepped back inside, preparing to help him clean up.
Su Yan, utterly mortified, snatched the water basin and cloth. “I’ll do it myself…”
Jinghong Zhui said firmly, “I already told you—going forward, all matters of your personal care will be my responsibility.”
Su Yan refused outright, but Jinghong Zhui wasn’t having it. Without a word, he pressed his master down onto the seat and started pulling off his boots and pants. Su Yan struggled and barked protests, but nothing could shake the resolve of his devoted bodyguard.
Any other time, Jinghong Zhui would never have dared to be so bold as to strip his lord down by force. But tonight’s events had left him deeply rattled. Meanwhile, Su Yan—caught red-handed in an affair—was so overwhelmed by guilt and humiliation that he’d lost his usual commanding presence. In a bizarre reversal, it was the “concubine” who now had the upper hand.
Once the trousers were removed, Jinghong Zhui—his face burning with an admirer’s flustered reverence—kept his assassin’s composure as he examined for injuries. Seeing no wounds or even signs of swelling, he deduced that the hot spring’s water must have helped reduce any inflammation, and he felt slightly reassured.
With a face both flushed and solemn, he meticulously used the damp cloth to cleanse Su Yan, even carefully extracting and wiping away any lingering traces inside.
Su Yan lay sprawled across the seat, his face buried in his sleeve. When it was finally over, he scrambled to put his clothes back on and practically shoved his excessively devoted bodyguard out of the carriage.
Jinghong Zhui, however, refused to leave. He still wanted to help “detox” his master’s traumatized psyche, to offer words of comfort.
But Su Yan, pushed to the brink of mortification, hurled the wet cloth at him and snapped, “Detox my *ss! I’m fine! I slept with Shen Qi, we both wanted it, end of story!”
Jinghong Zhui took this as self-loathing and despair, which only deepened his pain and compassion for his master. His hatred for Shen Qi grew even stronger.
He resolved then and there—he would find an opportunity to make that b*stard disappear, so cleanly that even Su Yan wouldn’t suspect him. Once the dog was dead and buried, time would heal all wounds.
As he stepped out of the carriage, this was the thought that settled in Jinghong Zhui’s heart.
