The abstinent prince, practicing Buddhism, is seduced by a voluptuous beauty into breaking his vows.

Su Yaoyao suddenly stood up, her face turning deathly pale.

"What did you say?"

The guard, head bowed, knelt on one knee, his voice trembling: "His Highness the Crown Prince has been assassinated! Please, Your Highness, come immediately—"

In that moment of hesitation, a ruthless glint flashed in the guard's eyes.

He pulled a small porcelain bottle from his sleeve and suddenly threw it at Su Yaoyao's face!

The change happened so fast that Su Qingrun and the others didn't even have time to react.

A figure in crimson suddenly rushed out from the side and stood directly in front of her!

The powder was sprinkled all over the man.

"Princess Helian?!" Anar exclaimed.

He Qing stood in front of Su Yaoyao, his crimson robes covered in white powder. His expression remained unchanged, but his peach blossom eyes were as cold as ice.

When the guard's first attack failed, he drew a short knife from his waist and lunged at Su Yaoyao!

A flash of light.

Blood splattered three feet deep.

It was the guard who fell.

He Qing sheathed his sword and turned to look at her.

The veil concealed his expression, revealing only his captivating eyes.

"Don't panic." He Qing turned to look at her, his voice still languid, but with an indescribable weariness. "He's fine."

"You..." she began.

"Sister!" Anar rushed over, grabbed her arm, and cried out in alarm, "Are you alright?!"

Su Qingrun had already drawn her sword and stood in front of her, her eyes fixed warily on He Qing.

He Qing took a step back and sheathed the soft sword at her waist.

Su Yaoyao looked at him and suddenly noticed—

He held the sword with his left hand.

Large patches of blood seeped into the sleeve of his right arm, a shocking sight.

"Are you hurt?" she blurted out.

He Qing looked down at his right arm, then looked up at her through the veil.

"You... care about me?" he asked, his tone slightly joking, but his eyes shone brightly, as if waiting for an answer.

Su Yaoyao did not answer.

She just stared at his right arm, her brow furrowed.

He Qing waited for a moment, but when she didn't hear anything, the light in her eyes slowly dimmed.

He smiled and took a step back.

"Go and see your prince," he said. "Leave this to me."

Su Yaoyao's heart tightened, and without thinking of anything else, she mounted her horse.

He Qing stood still, watching the fiery red figure speed away.

The wind lifted his veil, revealing a face as pale as paper and a bitter smile on his lips.

"It's still... not enough," he said softly.

---

The camp was in complete chaos.

When Su Yaoyao rode into the camp, she saw Emperor Xiao Dingkun standing in front of the imperial tent, his face ashen, surrounded by kneeling guards and imperial physicians.

"Find him! Find him for me!" Xiao Dingkun's voice trembled. "Turn the entire hunting grounds upside down, find the Crown Prince!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the sound of horses' hooves approached.

Everyone turned around and saw the Crown Prince's personal guards carrying a stretcher, hurrying towards the camp.

There was a person lying on the stretcher.

His dark robes were soaked in blood, his face was deathly pale, and his eyes were tightly closed.

Xiao Chenyuan.

Su Yaoyao's mind went blank, and she almost rolled off the horse.

She rushed to the stretcher, her hands trembling as she reached out to hold his.

She couldn't hear what the people around her were saying.

The Imperial Guards were lined up, but she couldn't see them.

She only had eyes for that person.

"A-Yuan!"

In her past life, what storms hadn't she weathered in the entertainment industry? Breakups, betrayals, scheming—she'd experienced it all. She'd long since developed an invulnerability to any kind of danger.

But in that instant, only one thought occupied her mind—

He can't be hurt.

Xiao Chenyuan's hands were ice-cold and unresponsive.

The imperial physicians surrounded him and hurriedly carried him into the imperial tent.

Su Yaoyao stumbled in after him, knelt beside him, and tears streamed down her face.

A commotion arose outside the tent.

Xiao Qiming's voice came through: "How is His Highness the Crown Prince? Let me in quickly to see him!"

The curtain was lifted, and Xiao Qiming rushed in anxiously, his eyes red-rimmed, looking exactly like a worried younger brother.

He saw Xiao Chenyuan covered in blood, and Su Yaoyao kneeling by the bed crying uncontrollably. A smug glint flashed quickly in the depths of his eyes.

"Brother!" Xiao Qiming rushed to the bedside, his voice choked with sobs, "Who? Who did this?! Your Majesty, I will tear him to pieces!"

Su Yaoyao ignored him.

She simply held Xiao Chenyuan's hand, her tears falling onto the back of his hand one by one.

Suddenly, her fingertips trembled.

That cold hand moved gently in her palm.

Her fingertips wrote words stroke by stroke in her palm.

"I".

"Pack".

"of".

Su Yaoyao's eyelashes trembled, and she instantly understood.

Tears were still flowing, and my voice was still trembling with sobs, but the weight in my heart had finally been lifted.

"Your Highness—!" she cried out deliberately, "Your Highness, what's wrong?! Open your eyes and look at me!"

She cried her heart out.

"If anything happens to Your Highness, I won't live either!"

The crying was so real that everyone present had tears in their eyes.

Xiao Qiming watched from the side, barely able to suppress the smile on his lips.

Cry.

Cry even harder.

When Xiao Chenyuan is really dead, you'll have plenty of time to cry.

---

Outside the tent, a figure in crimson stood silently.

He Qing stood behind the crowd, looking through the layers of people at the figure weeping by the bedside inside the imperial tent.

You can't hear a sound, and you can't see an expression.

All that could be seen was that slender figure kneeling by the bed, her shoulders trembling violently, clearly heartbroken from crying.

For another person.

He lowered his eyes, his right hand hanging at his side, blood dripping from his fingertips onto the snow, spreading a small patch of red.

He doesn't feel pain.

That little bit of pain is nothing compared to the turmoil in my heart.

Someone approached from behind and whispered, "Young Master, you should go back. Your wound needs to be treated."

He Qing didn't move.

He just stared at her back, at her holding Xiao Chenyuan's hand, at her burying her face in his palm, her shoulders trembling.

he thinks.

If she were lying there right now, would she cry like this?

can you?

will not.

He knew it wouldn't happen.

But he couldn't help thinking about it.

"Young Master." The voice sounded again, filled with worry.

He Qing took a deep breath and turned around.

His crimson robes billowed in the wind as he walked step by step away from the brightly lit imperial tent and toward his own camp.

Behind me, the sound of crying gradually faded into the distance.

Inside the royal tent.

Su Yaoyao was still crying.

As she cried, she suddenly remembered something, raised her head, and glanced at the tent entrance.

It was deserted, with only guards standing watch.

She looked away, then continued to lie by the bed and cry.

The imperial physicians were busy running around, and the emperor's roars could be heard in waves, while Xiao Qiming was still pretending to wipe away tears.

Su Yaoyao remained kneeling by the bed, holding Xiao Chenyuan's hand.

Only she knew that the hand she was holding was gently scratching her palm.

It's itchy.

It's like saying—

Don't overdo it, that's enough.

Su Yaoyao cried even harder, and while bending down, she bit his hand hard.

Xiao Chenyuan's fingers trembled almost imperceptibly.