Unfortunately, the continuous leaping and rapid movement had already consumed a great deal of strength. At the critical moment, a sudden disturbance in his lower abdomen made Nalan Xuan’s vision go black and cold sweat break out across his body. His movement froze as though time itself had stopped. The assassin seized the opportunity and thrust forward. Nalan Xuan knew countless ways to evade the strike, but none of them mattered when his body simply refused to obey.
Before he had time to mourn his fate or even reflect upon it, perhaps Heaven decided that Nalan Xuan was not yet meant to die. The sounds of fighting had alerted the palace guards, and a group of them burst into the bedchamber without waiting to announce themselves. The assassin’s otherwise seamless killing strike was interrupted. The sword wavered slightly and veered off course, piercing straight through Nalan Xuan’s left shoulder instead. The guard at the front was horrified and immediately drove his own sword toward the assassin.
Seeing that the killing blow had failed and reinforcements had arrived, the assassin knew the advantage was lost. The assassin tried to withdraw the sword embedded in Nalan Xuan’s body to defend against the guard, only for Nalan Xuan to seize the attacker’s wrist and lock it in place. Despite remarkable agility, the assassin could no longer evade the guard’s strike. In desperation, the assassin gathered strength and slammed a palm into Nalan Xuan, who was already breathing unevenly and drenched in cold sweat, sending him staggering away. Then, gathering force beneath the feet, the assassin flipped backward and leapt out of the palace. After only a few turns, the black-clad figure disappeared into the ink-dark night.
Driven by pain and urgency, Nalan Xuan regained just enough control of his body to instinctively raise his sword and slash after the fleeing figure. Whether the blow struck anything was beyond his ability to determine.
The guards, already badly shaken by the assassin’s escape, did not dare delay for even a moment. Without waiting to report, they drew their weapons and raced after the fugitive.
“Summon an imperial physician! Quickly, summon an imperial physician!” Xiao Dezi was not built like a soldier and had been squeezed to the very back of the crowd. By the time he finally managed to enter the chamber, he had barely caught his breath before a single glance at the blood pouring from Nalan Xuan’s left shoulder turned his face deathly pale. Half running and half stumbling, he rushed over and carefully helped Nalan Xuan sit beside the bed, then screamed toward the servants outside at the top of his lungs.
“This officer arrived too late to protect Young Master. Please punish me.” The guard captain’s expression was grave, and inwardly he was no less terrified than the subordinates who had rushed outside after the assassin. Still, as commander of the squad, he at least retained enough composure to be commendable. Sweeping aside the hem of his robe, he dropped to one knee.
During the immediate danger, Nalan Xuan had scarcely noticed anything. Now that the crisis had passed, fear gradually caught up with him. Pain from the wound arrived belatedly, sharp enough to make him frown. His right hand, still fully mobile, clenched tightly. A large patch of his snow-white inner robe had turned vivid crimson, painfully striking to the eye. Cold sweat had soaked most of the garment as well. Meanwhile, the returning waves of nausea combined with the sticky discomfort of fabric plastered against his body made him feel thoroughly miserable. He could only bite his lower lip and suppress both the irritation threatening to erupt and the clamoring pain.
Looking back now, Nalan Xuan realized that in the moment of greatest danger, his instinct had not been to call for help. Instead, he had charged directly forward and fought the assassin at close quarters without regard for his own safety. He did not know whether that reflex had been trained into him during his time on the battlefield—or whether it had always been rooted somewhere deep within his soul, unknown even to himself.
His distracted, irritable gaze suddenly caught sight of a knotted cord lying upon the floor. It was delicate but not expensive, attractive yet visibly worn by time. The brows Nalan Xuan had already been struggling to keep relaxed immediately drew together into a deep furrow. Xiao Dezi, whose heart had been lodged in his throat and whose attention remained fixed entirely upon his master, naturally noticed every change in Nalan Xuan’s expression.
Seeing his master staring fixedly at something, Xiao Dezi turned and discovered only an ordinary, worn cord knot lying quietly upon the floor. He had no idea what the object meant to Nalan Xuan, but since his master’s gaze had not moved from it, fetching it could hardly be wrong.
Perhaps that was exactly why Xiao Dezi, even after surviving such a massive coup and palace upheaval, had not been sent away but instead continued rising in position, eventually being assigned to Nalan Xuan and promoted overnight to chief steward of Moon-Embracing Palace. He knew what should be said and what should be done, what he was permitted to know and what he was expected not to know. He could make deductions and understand things privately, but he also knew when to pretend ignorance. A master was someone capable of giving a servant wealth, rank, and power—but also someone capable of having that same servant torn apart overnight. Xiao Dezi understood this perfectly, and he practiced it exceptionally well.
Nalan Xuan closed his hand around the cord knot. He knew it had belonged to the assassin who had come tonight to take his life. He had thought his final sword strike had merely been an instinctive attempt to protect himself. He had not expected it to knock this object from the assassin.
For a time, Nalan Xuan’s expression became extraordinarily complicated—almost smiling, almost helpless, puzzled, yet also angry. Xiao Dezi watched in mounting alarm, uncertain what he ought to do. Meanwhile, the hole pierced through Nalan Xuan’s shoulder showed no interest in waiting for him to finish thinking. Blood continued pouring out as though a floodgate had opened, soaking through his inner robe and dripping steadily from his fingertips onto the floor.
“Master, your arm—”
Before Xiao Dezi could finish, Mo Yan’s loud announcement rang out from outside the hall.
“His Majesty has arrived!”
Feng Xuanyi’s arrival sent everyone inside and outside the palace dropping to their knees. Every servant who had failed to protect their master fell deathly silent, scarcely daring to breathe. The person lying wounded inside was one of the emperor’s most favored consorts. Even the Nalan family of Marquis Dingbei alone would be enough to tear the assassin limb from limb. If the emperor, in a moment of fury, chose to vent his anger by executing every servant in the palace, they would have no choice but to accept it.
“Blessings to Your Majesty!” Xiao Dezi dropped to his knees with a trembling thud.
Nalan Xuan had only begun to rise when Feng Xuanyi seemed to sprout wings and crossed the distance in the blink of an eye. Having rushed over immediately upon hearing the news, Feng Xuanyi’s face was livid. Worry and rage were written plainly across it, his eyes bloodshot enough to look as though he might devour someone alive. He stared fixedly at the blood still pouring from Nalan Xuan’s left shoulder, his clenched fists cracking audibly.
“Where is the imperial physician? Why hasn’t one been summoned? Are you dead? Can’t you see how badly your master is injured?!” Feng Xuanyi poured all his fury onto Xiao Dezi. Even though he controlled himself enough not to strike the servant, the icy sharpness of his gaze alone was enough to terrify someone senseless.
Poor Xiao Dezi could hardly have been more innocent. He had been the first person to scream for someone outside to summon an imperial physician the moment he entered. But facts meant very little here. On one side stood an insignificant servant; on the other, the Son of Heaven whose word carried absolute authority. Any attempt to explain the “truth” would only be treated as arguing or defiance. Since either path could end miserably, Xiao Dezi could only swallow the bitterness in silence and choose the quicker death. “This servant acknowledges his fault. Your Majesty, please forgive this servant.”
“It isn’t his fault. Xiao Dezi already sent someone to summon an imperial physician. Even if the physician came immediately, it would still take time.” Despite being drenched in sweat from the pain, Nalan Xuan had no desire to see an innocent person implicated. At least so far, Xiao Dezi’s service had been highly satisfactory. Speaking one truthful sentence as an easy favor in exchange for an even more loyal servant was a calculation Nalan Xuan could make without difficulty.
The elderly imperial physician, who had already heard Feng Xuanyi berating the servants over his late arrival before he even entered the hall, had no time to catch his breath. He hurried inside at a near run, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead as he spoke. “This subject, Liu Yong of the Imperial Medical Academy, arrived late. Your Majesty, please—”
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