After the system set its sights on the dragon throne, the princess started courting death every day.

The sky grew increasingly gloomy, and the occasional breeze brought a touch of moisture, offering a brief respite to restless souls.

In no time, the breeze turned into a gale, gripping the branches and leaves of the trees as if they were about to be torn apart. The thin carriage curtains fluttered in the wind, offering no further shelter.

Xiang An sat cross-legged inside the carriage, facing the wind, expressionless, one hand holding his hair, the other covering his face with a wet cloth.

The wind was too strong and the dust was too heavy. She was a clean person and didn't want to be too sloppy, but there was no shelter from the wind inside the carriage, so she could only try her best to maintain a semblance of decorum.

With her face covered by a damp cloth, she felt a little more at ease. She closed her eyes, hoping that Ogihara Ao and her group would hurry into the dilapidated house so that she could suffer less.

I don’t know how long.

Ding Yinan boarded the carriage and whispered, "Princess, the Yan people have entered the dilapidated house."

"Let's hurry inside too." Xiang An got up anxiously, but she couldn't bear to remove the wet cloth and let her face get covered in dust, so she came out with the wet cloth on her face and her eyes closed. She was so fast that before Ding Yinan could put down the horse saddle, she had already stepped into the air and fell straight to the ground.

This time, without Xiao Ru's timely assistance, her consciousness went blank for a moment. She removed the wet cloth from her face and braced herself with both hands, avoiding a disfiguring position where she would have her face pressed against the ground.

"Princess! Are you alright?"

Ding Yinan hurriedly jumped off his horse and helped Xiang An up, fearing that she might fall and get seriously injured, which would cost him his life.

With his help, Xiang An stood up, moved her limbs, and found that she was not in pain. To be more precise, apart from a slight scrape on her palm when she landed, she was perfectly fine.

Looking back at the carriage frame, Xiang An realized it was only knee-high. He couldn't help but feel ashamed of his carelessness, thinking to himself, "I need to change my impatient nature in the future."

"Princess, why aren't you speaking? Could it be that you fell badly and are in so much pain that you can't speak?" Ding Yinan asked anxiously.

"It's nothing." Xiang An lowered his head and patted the dust off his clothes. "General Fu, you've always been cold and ruthless towards people?"

Fu Qingbai was clearly standing three steps away from where she fell off the carriage. With his superior height and long legs, even if he stood still, he could easily reach out and catch her, preventing her from falling off the carriage.

Ding Yinan discovered this when he got off the carriage, but he wisely kept quiet and chose to protect his general. Little did he know that Princess Miankang had also discovered it.

Feeling guilty, he stole a glance at Fu Qingbai, who remained calm. He instinctively wanted to defend him, but found no suitable excuse. Embarrassed, he scratched his head and remained silent.

"Oh?" Fu Qingbai picked up the damp handkerchief that Xiang An had dropped in her panic and was already covered in dust, stuffed it into Ding Yinan's hand, looked at her, and said in a flat tone: "Please, Your Highness, fall more slowly next time, so that I can catch you."

His serious demeanor was infuriating. Xiang An gritted his teeth and said, "Fine! Very well!! General Fu really knows how to excuse himself!"

Snatching the handkerchief from Ding Yinan's hand, without addressing Fu Qingbai, she led the wedding soldiers angrily toward the dilapidated house, lifting her skirt.

Ding Yinan approached nervously: "General, is it alright to anger the princess like this?"

Fu Qingbai glanced at him indifferently and said, "Whether it's good or bad, I'm already angry."

"But—" Ding Yinan wanted to say a few more words, but saw Fu Qingbai suddenly draw his sword and run away—

Not far away, a group of men in black, wielding sharp swords, rushed toward An with murderous intent. Ding Yinan's expression changed, and he hurriedly drew his sword and followed.

The soldiers escorting the bride had already started fighting with the men in black. The clanging of swords echoed throughout the room. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention to her for the time being, Xiang An quickly left the crowd and headed straight for the small, dilapidated house. The people from Yan Kingdom were inside, and she had to go and get reinforcements.

As for whether it will get them into trouble, in this life-or-death moment, when their lives are hanging by a thread, it would be foolish not to ask for help.

After running a few steps, a man in black somehow caught up with him, but he was a step too late. The cold, gleaming sword grazed past Xiang An's hair.

Xiang An felt a chill run down her spine, and all her fear instantly turned into calm. She turned around, quickly pulled out the hairpin from her hair, and took advantage of the moment when the man in black turned his sword back to stab him hard in the arm.

The pain slowed the man in black down a beat, and his wide, astonished eyes revealed that he hadn't expected Xiang An to retaliate.

Regardless of whether Xiang An is shocked or not, if he dares to be distracted or look down on his opponent during the fight, then today will be his death day.

A ruthless glint flashed in Xiang An's eyes. Without the slightest hesitation, he pulled out another hairpin, its sharp end plunging into Xiang An's neck. Blood gushed out, spraying onto the ground.

Watching him collapse, clutching his neck and staring wide-eyed, Xiang An desperately forced himself to calm down: if his legs went weak with fear, he would surely die today.

Taking a deep breath, he calmly picked up the sword that the man in black had dropped and examined it carefully. The sword was an ordinary sword with no markings on it, making it impossible to tell who had wielded it.

After weighing it in his hand several times, Xiang An found it to be quite good and decided to keep the sword as his life-saving weapon for the time being.

She was skilled in swordsmanship; after all, she came from royalty and had learned a little bit of everything. While she wouldn't say she was proficient in everything, she knew a few basic survival techniques. In particular, the royal family had specifically taught princesses a move—how to gracefully commit suicide without losing royal dignity. This special technique would never allow her to pick up a sword and become someone else's tool to kill her, simply because she wasn't skilled in swordsmanship.

Looking back at the crowd fighting with the men in black, many of the wedding soldiers had died. Fu Qingbai was mixed in with the crowd, taking down one enemy with each sword strike. His swordsmanship was elegant, swift, ruthless, and fierce. He could take on ten men at once, but he couldn't withstand the sheer number of men in black. In the chaotic attack, he had already been slashed in the waist and abdomen, and was covered in blood.

The wind howled fiercely, clothes fluttered wildly, and sand and dust swirled into the sky, stinging people's eyes.

Behind him were the Yan people, and in front of him was a fight. After hesitating for a moment, Xiang An stood still and did not enter the house.

With such a commotion outside, and the people inside still not coming out, it's clear what the other party's attitude is—neither helping nor causing trouble.

Looking at the chaos before her, Xiang An struggled with inner turmoil. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them a moment later, and with a few swift strokes of her sword, slashed off half of her long skirt.

Freed from the constraints of her skirt, she easily avoided the center of the fight, quickly ran onto the carriage, pulled out her miniature crossbow from her box, and fired several shots at the men in black chasing after her.

The crossbow bolts were small in size but extremely powerful; the black-clad man struck by one died instantly.

Xiang An kicked all the corpses off the carriage, then grabbed the coachman, who was hiding by the side of the carriage in fear, by the collar and ordered him, word by word, "Drive to the tree over there."

That location was on the edge of the fighting zone, the optimal distance for shooting with crossbow bolts.

It's dangerous, but we have to go.