It must be said that Gong Yin was quite a formidable character. This was evident from his approach to threats—he never resorted to them lightly, but when he did, he struck precisely at one’s weak spot.
Compared to threats involving violence or death, his intimidation of “making you fat” was far more effective on Jing Hengbo.
For two whole days, Jing Hengbo avoided Gong Yin like the plague. Every time she saw his elegant figure, she couldn’t help but think of that thousand-jin pig.
That day, another group of assassins had left behind several corpses. Although Gong Yin’s guards sustained only minor injuries, their number of wounded kept increasing, making them appear rather beleaguered.
Meanwhile, Jing Jun had fallen ill from fright once again. But Gong Yin had no intention of letting her off easily. He ordered his guards to keep a close watch over her, taking care of her as if they were guarding a major threat. His exaggerated caution only drew more assassins toward Jing Jun’s tent like moths to a flame. Even while sick, she had to endure repeated terror, looking utterly miserable.
Jing Hengbo wasn’t faring much better. In order for Gong Yin’s “enemy deception” strategy to appear convincing, they had to carry it out thoroughly. This meant that she and Sister Cui were treated far worse than before. After days of eating nothing but plain food, she actually started to miss lard-mixed rice.
As they traveled, dealing with constant assassination attempts, their enemies gradually dwindled. This grueling, cunning battle had continued for so long that, despite their disadvantage of being in the open while the enemy remained hidden, the assassins had gained no real advantage. Sustaining losses over time, even the strongest forces would eventually struggle to keep up.
With fewer attacks, the atmosphere among their group slowly improved. Aside from Gong Yin, most of the guards had grown quite familiar with Jing Hengbo, and when they had nothing else to do, they would even exchange a few casual words with her.
The guards privately believed that, despite Jing Hengbo’s lazy and seductive demeanor—always competing, always seeking attention—she wasn’t actually a bad person. She lived by the philosophy that “a good mood leads to good looks,” so no matter how bumpy the journey or how much she suffered from that corpse-like Gong, she never forgot to keep herself looking sleek and polished.
The guards particularly enjoyed watching her exercise on the hillside early in the morning. Under the golden sunlight, her bright eyes and glowing cheeks outshone the morning glow. And when she stretched, arching her back, her short, tight-fitting clothes would ride up, revealing a smooth, snowy-white waist as flawless as silk.
A woman who was both a pleasure to look at and deeply passionate about life was naturally captivating. Every morning, during that time, the younger guards would find all sorts of excuses to walk back and forth nearby—far more frequently than necessary.
Every morning, without fail, Gong Yin would be practicing martial arts, never stepping a single foot outside his carriage.
The tension between the two was strange, making Meng Hu especially cautious. He had once caught Jing Hengbo spitting into Gong Yin’s food. Alarmed, he tested it for poison ten times with a silver needle. When Gong Yin found out, he didn’t react with anger. Instead, that very night, he had Ah Shan deliver her a giant bowl of boiled pig entrails.
Of course, Jing Hengbo refused to eat that unseasoned, foul-smelling dish, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t get rid of it. It sat in the carriage, rotting and stinking up the place, nearly suffocating her. After that, she avoided Gong Yin for two full days and stopped deliberately doing her morning stretches outside his tent.
For the time being, a fragile peace was restored, and Meng Hu secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
By now, the group had traveled past Jibei in Great Yan and entered the Ludong region. Beyond this lay the grasslands and highlands. It was on this day that for the first time, Gong Yin decided to enter a city—Xiangfu City in Ludong—and stay there for the night.
Upon hearing this news, everyone let out a sigh of relief. After being stuck in carriages for so long, they could finally sleep on an actual bed!
Jing Hengbo whispered to Sister Cui, grumbling, “Gong Yin is completely insane. Traveling through cities is obviously safer—cities have entry permits, curfews, and guards, making it much harder for assassins to sneak in. But no! He insists on camping out in the wilderness, attracting enemies like mosquitoes.”
As she spoke, she suddenly paused.
A fleeting thought flashed through her mind—something important—but it came and went so quickly that she couldn’t grasp it.
By then, the carriages had already entered the city.
Xiangfu City was bustling with life. Shops lined the streets, and the roads were packed with carriages and horses, forming a lively stream of people.
For those who had spent so much time traveling through the wilds, this level of prosperity felt as grand as a thriving capital city.
Gong Yin ordered Meng Hu to book a private courtyard in the city’s largest inn. Then, he sent someone out to buy clothes, saying that he had agreed to stay in the city for the night only because he was running out of clean clothes.
Jing Hengbo curled her lips—he threw away at least one set of clothing a day, sometimes even two. Of course, he was going to run out.
Of course, she would never admit that most of his excessive laundry habits had something to do with her.
Today was a great day. For some reason, it seemed like Gong Yin had taken the wrong medicine—not only had he actually entered a city, but he even allowed Jing Hengbo and Sister Cui to go out and explore the streets.
She asked three times just to make sure she hadn’t misheard. Worried that the Dinghun Spider on her body might cause trouble, she hesitated. The guard delivering the message blinked at her and said, “The Grand Preceptor said you may go freely, as long as you don’t try to escape. There will be no problems.”
Jing Hengbo wondered—so this spider really can be controlled remotely?
But she didn’t have time to think about that nonsense. Overjoyed, she grabbed the young guard and, with a loud “smack!” planted a kiss right on his forehead.
“Perfect! I’ll buy you some sweets later!”
Without caring that the guard stood there wide-eyed, completely stunned as if struck by lightning, she had already grabbed Sister Cui and rushed off like a gust of wind, leaving only the lingering scent of her perfume in the air.
The young guard remained frozen at the entrance, absentmindedly touching his forehead, replaying the moment over and over…
For a long while, he just stood there, dazed. Then, suddenly, he remembered who Jing Hengbo actually was.
His face immediately changed. Just as he was about to sneak back into his room and pretend this had never happened, he turned around—and froze.
Under the shadowed corridor, a tall figure in white stood silently, hands clasped behind his back.
Gong Yin had no idea how long he had been standing there, but his eyes were cold as ice, glinting with the sharp, frigid gleam of snow.
With a loud thud, the young guard immediately dropped to his knees, ready to confess and take his punishment.
But Gong Yin simply turned and walked away.
His robes drifted lightly with his movement, silent as falling snow.
The guard, having narrowly escaped death, shakily got back to his feet. He knew that the Queen must never be defiled.
But now… it seemed… that rule had changed.
He stood there, dumbfounded, thinking of the seductive and playful Queen, thinking of the merciless, iron-clad rules he would soon return to, thinking of the strange emotion that had flashed in the Grand Preceptor’s eyes just now.
Suddenly, he felt a chill in his heart.
Jing Hengbo and Cui Jie strolled through the bustling streets. Even though she was fully aware of the guards secretly tailing them, she still felt an exhilarating sense of freedom. At this moment, everything seemed beautiful—the candied hawthorn skewers, the street vendors, even a pile of dog poop on the ground.
This was the taste of freedom.
But the moment that thought crossed her mind, Jing Hengbo frowned. Using the corner of her eye, she subtly glanced at the figures following them. She took a silent breath.
Heh. Freedom? What a laughable illusion.
Still, she believed—one day, she would find a way to completely rid herself of these Dahuang people.
Cui Jie was in high spirits today as well. She usually hated shopping, but today, she was even more enthusiastic than Jing Hengbo. She dragged her from stall to stall, chattering endlessly about Jing Jun’s illness, demanding hush money so she could buy herself a bracelet, and then, spotting a street performance, she excitedly pushed forward to watch.
Jing Hengbo was about to follow when suddenly, Cui Jie pushed her way back out.
Jing Hengbo froze at the sight of her face.
Normally carefree and brash, Cui Jie’s face was as pale as snow. Her eyes were rimmed red, her lips trembled slightly, and her entire demeanor was tense and stricken.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Cui Jie grabbed her hand. Her palm was ice cold, sending a shiver through Jing Hengbo’s body.
“My enemy… I-I… I just saw my enemy!”
Jing Hengbo stiffened. She stood on tiptoe and followed Cui Jie’s gaze.
Across the street, a group of men stood arrogantly.
At the front was a young master, dressed in extravagant silk robes, his chest puffed out and his belly protruding. He was surrounded by burly men in matching blue robes—clearly his hired muscle.
Jing Hengbo knew about Cui Jie’s past.
Her father and brother had been tormented to death by a wealthy noble’s son, leaving her with no choice but to fall into the brothel’s clutches.
But she never expected that her enemy would appear here, in Xiangfu City.
However… these men were far beyond what two women could handle alone.
And, more importantly—the Dahuang guards behind them would never allow them to cause trouble, start a fight, or bring any unnecessary complications.
“Big Wave…” Cui Jie’s hands were trembling, her voice shaking with every word—each syllable was filled with desperate pleading. “Please… help me… help me distract the Dahuang men… I’ll go after him myself. Just this once—help me, and I’ll be your servant for life!”
Jing Hengbo grasped her cold hands, thought for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle.
She reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Cui Jie’s face, casually wiping away her tears in the process. With a light pat on her cheek, she said, “Revenge is revenge. Since we’ve run into him, why would we let this opportunity pass? And forget all that talk about servitude—we met by fate. What I truly hope for is for you, Jing Jun, and me to stick together forever, through thick and thin.”
Cui Jie stared at her, dumbfounded.
Hearing such warm, heartfelt words from the reckless and carefree Jing Hengbo was rare enough—but even more suspicious was the way she was smiling right now.
Before Cui Jie could process it, Jing Hengbo had already turned around, stepping forward with a languid, catlike grace.
She walked straight toward the Dahuang guards trailing them from a few paces away. As she moved, she slowly loosened the collar of her robes, batting her eyes flirtatiously with a teasing smile.
“Phew… it’s so hot today…”
“A woman’s taking off her clothes!”
A sharp-eyed street thug let out an excited shriek, his voice cracking with delight.
The Dahuang guards snapped out of their daze. In an instant, they all turned in unison, eyes locking onto the commotion.
At that exact moment—
Jing Hengbo spun on her heel and darted back, grabbing the still-stunned Cui Jie.
“Run!”
And just like that, they vanished into the crowd.
The gleeful thug blinked, looking around in confusion.
“Huh? Where’d they go? They were just here!”
The mob of onlookers he had drawn in groaned in disappointment. Then—
“Damn you for getting our hopes up! Beat him!”
A brawl broke out.
The scuffle blocked the Dahuang guards’ line of sight. By the time they pushed through the fray, Jing Hengbo and Cui Jie were long gone.
