The Sickly Regent Prince Who Was Abandoned as a Substitute Bride

"A complete corpse?" Zhao Xuan threw his head back and laughed, his laughter filled with sorrow and anger. "I, Zhao Xuan, have fought on the battlefield for twenty years, protecting this Great Qi land, protecting the lights of every household in the city, and in the end, I have to ask you, a traitor, to grant me a complete corpse? Zhou Kui, open your dog eyes and look! Which of these soldiers who followed you wasn't a brother who fought alongside me? Aren't you afraid they'll have nightmares at night, dreaming of the souls of those who died in the northern border?"

The surrounding soldiers indeed stirred; some lowered their heads discreetly, and their grips on their spears loosened slightly. Seeing this, Zhou Kui shouted sternly, "What are you all standing there for! He's spreading heresy! Whoever captures Zhao Xuan will be rewarded with a hundred taels of gold and promoted three ranks!"

Enticed by the hefty reward, greedy soldiers immediately began to stir, their spears advancing once more. Awu suddenly stepped forward, his short sword held horizontally before him, the blade whistling as it sliced ​​through the air: "Anyone who dares to lay a finger on the general will first have to ask this sword of mine!"

The atmosphere instantly became tense, sparks flying between the two sides, as if a bloody battle was about to erupt at any moment. Zhao Xuan stared intently at Zhou Kui, his mind racing, calculating a way to escape—A Wu was brave, but the enemy numbered in the dozens; a direct confrontation was futile. He had to buy time…

Just then, the rapid sound of horses' hooves suddenly came from the distant mountain path, rolling across the night sky like thunder. The sound grew closer and closer, carrying a sharp force that cut through the wind; one could even hear the crisp sound of hooves crushing stones.

Zhou Kui's expression changed drastically: "Who is it?"

Before the words were even finished, more than twenty black horses broke through the night. The riders were all dressed in dark, close-fitting clothes, their faces covered with black cloth, revealing only pairs of cold, piercing eyes. The scimitars in their hands gleamed with a ghostly blue light in the torchlight, clearly coated with deadly poison. The lead rider gave a whistle, and the black horse charged into the encirclement like an arrow. The arc of the scimitar swung was as fast as lightning, and instantly two soldiers clutched their throats and fell to the ground, blood gushing out and staining the grass beneath their feet.

"They're one of our own!" A-Wu exclaimed, both surprised and delighted. "General, it's a backup plan arranged by the Madam!"

Zhao Xuan was deeply shocked. He stared at the agile movements of the men in black—their swordsmanship was ruthless and their teamwork was seamless, clearly indicating that they were specially trained assassins. He had never imagined that the gentle and refined lady could secretly cultivate such a force; their meticulousness and decisiveness far exceeded his expectations.

The men in black, like a black torrent, instantly broke through the soldiers' encirclement. The crisp sound of scimitars slicing through armor, the screams of soldiers, and the neighing of warhorses mingled together, turning the mountain pass into a chaotic battlefield. Zhou Kui's soldiers, already demoralized, were now utterly routed in the face of the fearless men in black, falling in droves in the blink of an eye.

"Useless! All of you are useless!" Zhou Kui was both shocked and furious. He did not expect Zhao Xuan to have a backup plan. Seeing the situation reverse, he immediately turned his horse around and tried to escape.

"Where do you think you're going!" Zhao Xuan had already set his sights on him. At this moment, he leaped up, using the shield of a fallen soldier for leverage, and pounced on Zhou Kui like a tiger. Although he was unarmed, his explosive power, honed by years of battle, was astonishing. He caught up with the fleeing Zhou Kui in a few steps and kicked the horse's belly.

The warhorse, in pain, reared up abruptly, throwing Zhou Kui violently to the ground. He crashed to the ground, his silver armor clattering against the rocks. Just as he was about to get up, Zhao Xuan's foot was already planted on his back.

"Ugh—" Zhou Kui groaned in pain as his face was pressed into the cold mud, getting covered in dust and grass clippings.

Zhao Xuan bent down, grabbed his hair, and fiercely lifted his face, his gaze like a knife piercing him: "Speak! Who told you to do this? Where did those secret letters of treason come from? Why did you betray me!"

Zhou Kui was trembling with fear, his teeth chattering, but he still stubbornly pleaded, "General, spare my life... I... I was just confused for a moment..."

"Foolish?" Zhao Xuan increased the pressure on his foot, and Zhou Kui immediately broke out in a cold sweat from the pain. "I've treated you well, promoting you from a groom to a deputy general, and even betrothing my only daughter to your son! Is this how you repay me?"

"It was...it was the Duke of Zhenguo!" Zhou Kui finally couldn't hold back anymore, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "The Duke of Zhenguo found me and said that as long as I overthrew the general, the military power in the northern border would be mine, and...he even promised me a hereditary marquisate...I was blinded by greed..."

Duke Zhenguo!

Zhao Xuan's pupils contracted sharply; it really was him. That seemingly carefree member of the royal family had been hiding so well.

He ignored Zhou Kui's excuses, picked up a broken spear from the ground, and used it to tightly bind Zhou Kui's arm. By this time, the fighting on the battlefield was nearing its end. The men in black had dealt with the remaining soldiers at minimal cost. The leading rider rode up to Zhao Xuan, knelt down, and said, "Your subordinate greets the general! The lady has ordered us to escort the general to Yunqi Temple for temporary refuge. The temple has prepared carriages, horses, and a change of clothes."

Zhao Xuan nodded, his gaze sweeping over the mess on the ground, a mix of emotions welling up inside him. He helped A Wu up, then glanced at Zhou Kui, who was tightly bound, and said in a deep voice, "Take him with you, let's go."

The black horse galloped forward under the moonlight, its hooves echoing clearly on the silent mountain path. Zhao Xuan reined in the horse and glanced back at the brightly lit imperial city in the distance, the place he had once sworn to protect with his life, now a most dangerous prison.

A breeze brushed past his ears, carrying the coolness of the mountains. Zhao Xuan gripped the jade pendant in his robes, its smooth texture warm to his fingertips. He knew that escaping the Heavenly Prison was only the beginning, and the road ahead would surely be fraught with thorns. But the flame in his heart had been rekindled, like the morning star quietly rising in the sky—regardless of whether it was the Duke of Zhenguo or any other lurking shadows, he would surely wash away this injustice; he would surely avenge those blood debts.

One day, he will return to that city with his innocence and the truth, upright and honorable.

As dusk settled, the last rays of the setting sun faded inch by inch along the upturned eaves of Yunqi Temple. A mountain breeze, carrying the sound of pine trees, swept across the flagstone path, bringing a touch of early autumn coolness. A group of five riders galloped to the temple gate in the last vestiges of daylight. The crisp sound of horseshoes striking the stone slabs startled a few gray pigeons perched under the eaves, their fluttering wings echoing clearly in the silent mountains. Zhao Xuan, the leader, reined in his horse, "Ta Xue," which snorted, its rising steam condensing into a white mist in the cool air. Having galloped all the way from the dense forests outside the capital, both man and horse were nearing their limits; their boots were worn through, and bits of grass still clung to the seams of their armor. Only their eyes, in the twilight, remained remarkably bright.

"Whoa—" The four black-clad guards behind him simultaneously halted their horses, their movements perfectly synchronized, the curved swords at their waists gleaming coldly in the dimming light. They were Zhao Xuan's most elite secret guards, who had protected him and fought their way through the Zhao residence three days ago when the Duke of Zhenguo had surrounded it on charges of "treason." Their target was Yunqi Temple, hidden deep in the Zhongnan Mountains—a place he and his wife had long ago arranged as an emergency retreat.

The temple gate consisted of two mottled vermilion-lacquered wooden doors, the verdigris on the door knockers bearing varying shades of green patina with the passage of time. Zhao Xuan dismounted, and just as his fingertips touched the cool door knockers, the doors creaked open by themselves. A figure in simple white robes stood beneath the pomegranate tree inside, her moon-white dress billowing gently in the mountain breeze, the embroidered orchids on the hem appearing and disappearing faintly in the twilight. It was none other than his wife, Madam Su.

After only three days apart, faint dark circles had appeared under her eyes, and a plain silver hairpin was askew in her hair, clearly taken in the rush. But her eyes, which were looking at him, seemed to hold stars. They widened suddenly, flashing with an incredulous joy, before being overwhelmed by deep worry, her voice trembling slightly: "General... I've finally been waiting for you."

She hurried to meet him, her skirt brushing against the fallen leaves on the ground, making a soft rustling sound. As she approached, her gaze quickly swept over Zhao Xuan—noticing a tear in his left sleeve, blood seeping through. Her brows furrowed instantly, and she reached out to touch him, but fearing she might hurt him, her fingertips hovering in mid-air. In the end, she could only let out a soft sigh: "Come inside quickly, I've asked the monks at the temple to prepare some wound medicine."

Zhao Xuan grasped her slightly cool hand, the roughness of his palm rubbing against the calluses on her fingertips—marks left from the days she had spent copying letters by hand to manage the temple and contact her old comrades. A warm current welled up from the bottom of his heart, washing away the fatigue and fear of the past few days of fleeing. His Adam's apple bobbed, his voice hoarse from dehydration: "You've worked so hard, Madam. This journey has been fraught with danger. If it weren't for your prior arrangements, I fear I would have..."

"Why say such things?" Madam Su interrupted him, a faint yet firm smile blooming on her face, the fine lines at the corners of her eyes holding a moonlit tenderness. "General, you have risked your life for your country, guarding the northern border for ten years, protecting thousands of miles of rivers and mountains. It is only my duty to protect you." She turned to the four guards and said, "My brave warriors must be tired from your journey. A vegetarian meal and hot water have been prepared in the west wing of the meditation room. Please go and rest for a while."

The guards exchanged glances, and seeing Zhao Xuan nod, they bowed and silently retreated to the west. Zhao Xuan was following Madam Su towards the meditation room. The bluestone path beneath their feet was damp with the evening dew, gleaming with a warm light. The incense burner at the entrance to the meditation room still held lingering incense, a wisp of smoke rising straight up and dispersing into a thin mist above the doorframe.

Just then, a rapid sound of hooves suddenly came from the end of the mountain road, growing louder as it approached, carrying an unmistakable arrogance—it was not the mount of an ordinary merchant, but the sound of well-trained military horses pounding the ground, and judging from the noise, there were at least dozens of riders.

Zhao Xuan abruptly stopped, his eyes instantly sharpening like a hawk's. He turned and shielded Su Shi behind him, giving a low gesture to the guards in the shadows: "Be on guard!" The four black-clad guards appeared almost instantly, their hands on their sword hilts, forming a defensive circle back to back, their eyes fixed on the direction of the temple gate.

Madam Su's face paled slightly, but she quickly regained her composure and lowered her voice, saying, "Is it someone from the Duke of Zhenguo? How could he act so quickly?"

Zhao Xuan frowned, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the jade pendant at his waist—a token he had made with the deputy general guarding the border. He had originally planned to rest here briefly before sending someone to deliver it, but he hadn't expected the pursuers to arrive so quickly. He said in a deep voice, "They may not be after us, but we must be wary. Come with me into the meditation room, and keep as quiet as possible."

The two had just slipped into the meditation room and closed the wooden door when they heard a commotion outside the temple gate, mixed with the clanging of weapons and shouts. Immediately afterward, hurried footsteps came from the other end of the corridor, accompanied by the young novice's panicked cries: "Master! Master! Something terrible has happened! Lots of soldiers have arrived outside, saying... saying they're going to search the temple and arrest people!"

There was a gentle knock on the door of the meditation room. It was the voice of Abbot Huineng, calm and steady as ever: "General, this old monk is in the outer room."

Zhao Xuan gestured for Su to stay in the inner room, then pushed open the door and went out. He saw Master Huineng standing in the courtyard, wearing a grey monk's robe, his hands clasped together. The moonlight fell perfectly on his wrinkled face, making his eyes appear exceptionally clear. The young novice beside him was still trembling, his hands tightly clutching the corner of his robe.

“Master,” Zhao Xuan bowed respectfully, his tone grave, “I’m afraid you’ve caused trouble for the temple.”

Master Huineng shook his head slightly, his voice as calm as an ancient well: "Amitabha, General, you are a descendant of loyal and virtuous men, and I trust you. Let the soldiers search if they want, but this is a sacred Buddhist temple, and we cannot tolerate their insolence. General, please rest assured, I will be right back." With that, he straightened his monk's robes, took the young novice, and walked unhurriedly toward the temple gate.

Zhao Xuan stood at the door of the meditation room, watching the abbot's figure disappear at the end of the corridor, his palms already slightly sweaty. Madam Su came out from the inner room and handed him a cup of warm tea: "Master Huineng is highly respected and had a past relationship with my late father, so he will certainly take care of everything." Even so, her fingers holding the teacup tightened slightly.

The commotion outside the temple gate rose and fell, with the faint sounds of soldiers shouting and Master Huineng's unhurried replies, interspersed with the sounds of rummaging through chests and cabinets. Time passed slowly, each moment seeming to stretch out countless times. The mountain wind whistled through the windowpanes, like someone weeping softly.

After an unknown amount of time, just as Zhao Xuan was about to burst out, footsteps finally came from the other end of the corridor. Master Huineng had returned, his face showing a hint of joy. He quickly walked up to Zhao Xuan, put his palms together, and said, "General, rest assured, this old monk has already sent them away."

"How did you get rid of them?" Zhao Xuan pressed, knowing full well that the Duke of Zhenguo's trusted henchmen were notoriously tyrannical and would never give up easily.

“This old monk said that a high-ranking monk appointed by the royal family has recently been in seclusion in the temple to pray for blessings. If we disturb His Majesty, it will be a crime that will cost us our heads.” Master Huineng smiled slightly, a sly glint in his eyes. “Although those soldiers were arrogant, they were also afraid of being implicated. They only searched the outer perimeter hastily before being scared off by this old monk’s words that ‘offending the Buddhist temple may incur divine retribution.’”

Zhao Xuan finally breathed a sigh of relief, his tense shoulders relaxing abruptly, his back already soaked with cold sweat. He knew this was merely a temporary measure; the Duke of Zhenguo was powerful, and if they couldn't find anything today, he would definitely send more people tomorrow. This Yunqi Temple was not a place he could stay for long.

Upon entering the meditation room, Su had already lit an oil lamp. The dim yellow light cast long shadows of the two people on the wall. A simple vegetarian meal was laid out on the table: a dish of pickled radishes, a bowl of coarse rice, and two bowls of hot soup. Zhao Xuan picked up his chopsticks but had little appetite, staring blankly at the flickering wick.