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Mo Jingxi gazed at Qingge, his expression somewhat dreamy. This woman was clear, cool, and aloof, her skin pale, her eyes devoid of unnecessary emotions. Right, she wasn’t her, but that bone structure, that skin, those emerald-like eyes, and those delicate eyebrows—they were so much alike, almost made her appear genuine.
For a split moment, he even suspected that perhaps there were originally two of her in this world, and this was just another her. Thus, as if bewitched, his gaze softened.
“Do you truly have no regrets?” He finally spoke. His voice, low and husky, carried a hint of a melancholic farewell.
Qingge raised an eyebrow slightly, her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of Mo Jingxi’s face, close enough to almost touch her ear, with his breath tickling against her cheek. As if confused, she tilted her head, putting some distance between them, and whispered back, “What, are you reluctant to part with the money?”
There was a brief pause in Mo Jingxi’s expression. He leaned back slightly and cast a quick glance out the window, fully aware of the importance of being careful. “What are you talking about, Miss?” He said, respectfully reciting the dowry list, but his eyes remained on Qingge. “These are all for you to take to the Wang Manor. Everything will be properly arranged, so please be at ease.”
Using the dowry as a pretext, he was assuring her about the money.
Qingge chuckled lightly, picked up her teacup, and took a sip before saying, “Then I’ll trouble you, Mr. Mo.”
Mo Jingxi silently looked at Qingge, observing her smiling eyes. Although she was smiling, there was a kind of cold indifference deep within her, as if nothing in this world could catch her attention. He had to admit, watching her like this, he couldn’t bear the thought of her stepping into Ning Wang Manor, marrying another man, becoming someone else’s wife…
Even if she was a counterfeit, he felt a pang of reluctance.
But there was nothing he could do. After reporting the matter of the dowry, he then prepared to leave.
“Thank you for your work, Mr. Mo. Take care.”
Mo Jingxi stood up, but as he did, he leaned over to her.
Qingge paused for a moment, then heard a deep voice by her ear: “Ning Wang is capricious, and the Yellow Sect are opposing the court. Be very cautious.”
With that, he finally left.
…
The next day, the weather turned rainy. Amidst the drizzle, the Huaiyu Mountain seemed enveloped in a thin layer of mist, adding a sense of urgency to the bridal procession.
Qingge noticed that the three secret guards were hidden behind the carriage she was in. Most people wouldn’t be able to detect their presence, let alone sense their vigilance, but Qingge, who had once been part of their ranks, could tell that they were like tightly drawn bows, ready to unleash their arrows at any moment.
She half-closed her eyes, resting against the soft silk cushion. To an onlooker, she might appear relaxed, but her mind was actively engaged in various calculations. Yuning, situated in a remote corner of the nation, bordered Xiyuan to the west—a region where diverse ethnic groups fractured the landscape, perpetually embroiled in war and conflict.
For years, the imperial court had wanted to conquer Xiyuan, but it had never succeeded.
Ten years ago, when Ning Wang was only thirteen, he was appointed to Yuning, actually to guard the western gateway of the Great Sheng dynasty.
Before she left Ning Wang Manor, there had been no mention of a marriage alliance with the Xiahou clan. With how the court had so abruptly mandated the marriage, there must have been an urgent situation that required a swift alliance.
There were two possible reasons: internal strife, with the Yellow Sect causing chaos, or external threats, with Xiyuan harboring ambitious plots.
A proud and aloof man, Ning Wang wouldn’t easily enter a marriage, so there must be a compelling reason for him to accept.
As Qingge pondered, she suddenly remembered—Xiahou Jianxue’s mother seemed to be from Xiyuan, a princess from a minor tribe.
Did the Emperor intend for Ning Wang to marry Xiahou Jianxue to leverage her maternal clan’s influence over the Xiyuan tribes, thus weakening Xiyuan’s power and ensuring they were too fragmented to cause trouble at the border?
Even when she was deep in thought, Qingge’s expression remained unchanged, but she was already quietly circulating her qi. These past few days, she had been practicing her breathing exercises either before sleep or when alone, slowly nurturing her body. Unfortunately, the hot spring she had enjoyed for just a few days was not effective enough; she still needed to find some top-quality medicinal herbs to help eliminate the cold poison and restore her condition.
Her master Ning Wang was not easy to deal with, and now she was forced to share a bed with him. She not only had to deceive him but also needed to somehow extract medicinal materials from his storehouse. ‘Daunting’ was not nearly enough to describe the challenge she soon had to face.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, an abrupt, shrill noise of whistling metal filled the air, accompanied by a sharp slicing sound.
Qingge instantly tensed, her instincts nearly causing her to spring up. However, she regained control almost instantly, forcibly calming her jolting hand and placing it back on the cushion beside her.
She is now the young lady of the Xiahou clan, not the secret guard Number 37, Qingge. Killing and setting fire, guarding and protecting—those are someone else’s concerns, not hers!
For the first time in her life, Qingge overcame her instincts and chose to ignore the danger outside.
The sharp iron object grazed just above the carriage, shattering the wooden barrier with a loud crash, sending wood chips scattering downward, some falling close to Qingge. By then, the three secret guards had already leaped into action, with the other guards swiftly forming a protective circle around the carriage. Amidst the howling wind, the clashing sound of swords being drawn filled the tense air.
The attendants inside the carriage were panicked, but only Luo Momo remained calm, her cold gaze quietly observed Qingge. Glancing at the hand resting on the cushion, she smirked slightly, a look of realization in her eyes—‘Of course, a counterfeit is just that, counterfeit. A low-class woman who knew nothing of the world will surely be terrified at this moment. Even if Mo Jingxi has done his best to mold her, it’s all superficial.’
But Qingge was not in the mood to notice the momo’s contemptuous gaze. She was attentively focusing on the battle happening outside. She could sense many attackers, seventeen in total, all top assassins from Xiyuan. Undoubtedly, they had meticulously planned this assault, seizing the right moment and location to strike with overwhelming force.
The fierce battle was in full swing outside, with muffled cries of pain intermittently heard on both sides. Blood splattering and bodies flying, turning the area outside the carriage into a living hell.
Qingge clenched her fists, exerting all her willpower to restrain herself, to disregard the strong urge arising from her deepest instincts.
Just then, the sound of galloping horses approached from afar, growing louder as they neared, quickly closing the distance.
“Someone’s coming!” Luo Momo whispered. “It must be people from Ning Wang Manor coming to rescue us!”
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