Assassination: A Second Cooperation

She scrambled to her feet, intending to see what had happened, but before her fingers could even reach the curtain, the carriage gave a violent lurch, tilting the entire cabin to the left. The sudden shift threw her off balance, and she crashed to the floor before she knew what was happening. A sharp edge inside had torn the fine brocade on her arm, and the sting in her knee told her she'd skinned it.

"What's going on?!" she cried, frowning as she tried to get up, but the moment she moved, a sharp pain shot through her ankle. She must have twisted it, she thought. Gritting her teeth, she used her good arm to push herself up against the seat.

The tilted carriage made even standing a struggle. The situation was dire, but at least she hadn't been thrown out the window. The loud crash should have alerted the servant, yet no one came to check on her, and her heart began to race. With trembling hands, she pulled back the curtain.

The driver's seat was empty. The horse, spooked, was stamping in panic. Zhou Yao drew a sharp breath—whether from pain or fear—and before she could exhale, an arrow whistled past her cheek, leaving a thin line of blood. This was a blatant assassination attempt!

Already hobbled by her injuries, she knew hiding in the carriage would only delay the inevitable—she'd be riddled with arrows before anyone came. And by pulling back the curtain, she'd given the attackers the opening they needed. Arrows rained down, impossible to dodge.

"Ah—!" She pressed herself against the high side of the carriage, hoping to use it as a shield, but an arrow punched clean through the flimsy wood, aimed straight for her brow. It stopped half an inch from her forehead. Her eyelashes fluttered uncontrollably; her back was drenched in cold sweat, and her palms were slick.

She dared not move. The carriage had become a porcupine, and one wrong move would leave her skewered. But staying put was suicide. She couldn't tell where the assassins were—they were hidden while she was exposed. Stay and die, or flee and die. What a joke, she thought. I haven't even made any money yet, and I'm going to die here? All that youth wasted without earning a cent—what a tragic loss!

She was still in a standoff when the hail of arrows abruptly ceased. A pale, slender hand lifted the curtain. Instinctively, she reached for the small knife she usually kept at her waist, but it wasn't there—she'd changed her clothes. Panic surged. Then the unmistakable scent of sandalwood washed over her. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I'm late. Are you hurt?" Qi Yanhan's voice trembled.

In the darkness, she could just make out his face, and all at once her tension eased. Before she could answer, he noticed the gash on her cheek and her disheveled state. His expression hardened. After a moment, he said, "Let me help you out. Mind your step." He extended a hand to support her arm, careful not to overstep, but she didn't move. He looked at her questioningly.

"I... think I sprained my ankle," she said sheepishly.

"It's fine." He turned his back and gestured with his eyes for her to climb on. "I'll carry you."

With no room for refusal, Zhou Yao let him hoist her up. She studied him as he walked: he always seemed frail and sickly, but he didn't seem concerned about revealing his strength to her. The position was intimate, and from her angle, she noticed the tips of his ears had turned red. She couldn't suppress a soft laugh.

"Is something amusing?" he asked, his tone low and slightly dark.

She shook her head, then remembered he couldn't see her. "No."

She looked around, trying to see where the attackers had gone, but Qi Yanhan spoke first. "Your Highness, next time you leave the palace, please wait for me. Alright?"

Her lips pressed together; she didn't answer. Then they spoke at once.

"Thank you."

"I was worried about you."

They fell silent.

Qi Yanhan had a thousand things he wanted to say, but he couldn't—because of their positions, their circumstances, her feelings toward him. So he buried this decade-long secret love deep inside. He would help Zhou Yao with anything in secret, but he would never risk her life. The Crown Prince had gone too far this time. His eyes turned cold and venomous, and the hand at her back tightened without his awareness.

"O-ow... that hurts," Zhou Yao said hesitantly.

He remained frozen for a long moment, only relaxing when she repeated herself.

By the time they returned to the Qi Mansion, the imperial physician was already waiting at the gate. The moment Zhou Yao was settled into a chair, Qi Yanhan vanished. She looked around, confused, but he was gone.

She sat at the chess table in her room, her slender, jade-like fingers picking up a piece and placing it on the unfinished game from days ago. She mulled over recent events, sensing that something was brewing between Qi Yanhan and the Crown Prince, and that she was somehow bearing the cost of their tension. This was to be expected, but she had no interest in their quarrels—yet when the fire licked at her own skirts, she had to act. The Crown Prince had harmed his own siblings; if word got out, his saintly reputation would collapse.

The quickest way to restore Qi Yanhan's real power was simple: topple the Crown Prince and reshuffle the entire court. It wouldn't happen overnight, but Zhou Yao was patient. She had time. She could send people to gather evidence of his brutality. But if someone could goad Zhou Yu into committing an unforgivable act, that would be ideal.

She still had to open her stall tomorrow, so she set down the chess piece and prepared to call for her maid to help her wash and change. Just then, two soft knocks sounded on the window outside, the wooden taps clear in the still night.

"Your Highness, forgive the intrusion. There's something I don't understand, and I hoped you could enlighten me." The voice was gentle—Qi Yanhan, who had just fled.

Zhou Yao stared at his silhouette against the window and finally said, "Speak."

"Have you considered selling your craft to the public?"

"Aren't I already doing that?" she said, impatient at his cryptic wording.

"No, that's not what I mean." His voice trembled slightly. After a pause, he said, "If it's convenient, might I come in to talk?"

She looked around the room; she couldn't move easily, so she said from the table, "Come in."

Qi Yanhan had changed into fresh clothes, and the scent of blood was gone. He looked as refined as ever, his fox-like eyes lacking their usual slyness.

"Perhaps Your Highness hasn't fully grasped my meaning." He smiled. "I wish to take our cooperation further."

He noted that she had sent her servants to post wanted notices for Linglong, but so much time had passed with no word. "It's not a solution to keep waiting," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Why not do something else with me? You're a wise woman, and I wouldn't want to disturb your rest at this hour. I'm grateful for the small favor you did me yesterday. This is a token of my appreciation, and I hope we can establish a long-term partnership."

He produced an exquisitely carved jade box from his sleeve and placed it on the table, nudging it toward her.

Even without his words, Zhou Yao had already suspected that tonight's ambush was tied to the conflict between him and the Crown Prince. She opened the box, and inside lay exactly what she had been scheming to obtain all along....

Author's note: None.