Chapter Seventy-Nine: Your Highness, Please Mind Your Conduct

Update Time: 2013-07-07

Yuwen Lingxi was sharp-eared and quick-witted; though Lianyue spoke softly, he caught every word with perfect clarity. He was curious about the depth of Lianyue's internal energy, yet genuinely happy for her—so long as she reached the intermediate level, as she claimed, that power would at least guarantee her basic safety.

“Yue’er, have you thought it through? Do you truly wish to learn?”

Lianyue nodded resolutely, giving a soft affirmation. Her grip on the branch tightened.

“Very well,” Yuwen Lingxi said. “If you are willing, I will teach you. Should you tire of it, you may stop.”

Lianyue had expected him to warn her of hardship, to assure her he would not go easy, but instead he spoke as her own brother might. Yet his words sounded as if he doubted her determination, and she retorted indignantly, “I will not give up halfway.”

Yuwen Lingxi was mildly surprised that such an offhand remark could rouse her competitive spirit, but he did not dwell on it. In his eyes, Lianyue had always been a porcelain doll raised in honey, cherished by brother and sister alike, indulged even in her occasional mischief. Thankfully, she had not been spoiled—she was sensible and considerate.

Since he was to teach her, and Lianyue was no ordinary student, Yuwen Lingxi would hold nothing back.

“Begin with this movement,” he instructed, raising the branch before his chest. In that instant, his entire bearing grew sharp and forceful; with a sudden burst of energy, he struck forward—fast and fierce—then just as swiftly withdrew. The aura dissipated as he turned to Lianyue, who watched intently. “Did you see clearly?”

She nodded and imitated the movement, but was not satisfied with her attempt. She pleaded for Yuwen Lingxi to demonstrate again, and her own form was corrected repeatedly before she managed a passable imitation.

Once he saw she had grasped the essentials, Yuwen Lingxi nodded. “Now, repeat this movement a thousand times.”

“What!” Lianyue was stunned. The motion looked simple, but to execute it properly was not easy—every tiny step demanded focus. In just a few tries, a fine sweat had gathered on her brow; to do this a thousand times would surely exhaust her arm.

Yet she had just sworn she would not quit, and pride would not let her protest—besides, she truly wanted to learn.

She fell in step behind Yuwen Lingxi, practicing the move again and again, so intent she paid no mind to the snakes, insects, and creatures lurking nearby.

At the forest’s edge, beside the pool, Yue Lingjun and Qiao Zhi exchanged glances, each reading the other’s uncertainty.

“Brother Qiao, what do you make of the situation?” Yue Lingjun asked.

“There’s no sign of human activity—no trace that anyone’s been here,” Qiao Zhi replied, his gaze sweeping the shimmering water. “That’s what’s odd.”

Yue Lingjun nodded in agreement, his eyes turning toward the woods. “We think alike, Brother Qiao. I want to investigate deeper within, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched.”

“I was just about to say the same,” Qiao Zhi responded, flicking open a white jade folding fan that had appeared in his hand. He waved it carelessly a few times, then with a sudden flick of his wrist, sent the fan whistling toward the trees Yue Lingjun was watching. “And not just by one person.”

Hidden in the branches, Sixty-Nine and Seventy-One stared in shock at the jade fan embedded deep in the wood, scarce two fathoms from them. They marveled at the pair’s vigilance, but already Qingfeng was speeding toward them.

The two dared not linger. They slipped away into the trees, moving as nimbly as monkeys, their steps both fluid and strange, the leaves seeming to conspire to hide their passage.

By the time Qingfeng arrived, they were long gone, leaving no trace. He pulled the jade fan from the trunk and examined the cut, his heart secretly amazed; who would have thought the seemingly idle prince was such a master?

Were the circumstances not so grave, Qingfeng would have been eager for a duel with Qiao Zhi.

“Master, Your Highness, there’s nothing to report,” Qingfeng said, returning the fan to Qiao Zhi.

Yue Lingjun watched as Qiao Zhi accepted the fan. “Was it just our imagination?” he wondered.

Qiao Zhi brushed imaginary dust from the fan, flicked it open, and said with certainty, “I trust my instincts. The absence of evidence does not mean no one is here.”

Yue Lingjun’s brows furrowed. “It seems things are growing more complicated. Who would go to such lengths? And for what purpose?”

“No matter who it is, we’ll root them out. At least we know Yue’er is safe for now,” Qiao Zhi replied lightly.

This trip down the precipice had not been in vain. At the outset, he’d prepared for the worst; he’d insisted on coming himself only to confirm things with his own eyes. Now, after so much effort with nothing found, his heart was finally at ease, and he reverted to his usual carefree manner.

Yue Lingjun also felt a measure of relief. “Brother Qiao is right. That is something gained. I’ll go deeper into the woods—perhaps there is more to find. Please wait here for Qingling to arrive with his men, and have them follow us in. I owe you for this favor, Brother Qiao.”

“I’m afraid I can’t comply,” Qiao Zhi replied bluntly, “for I intend to do just the same.”

Yue Lingjun was puzzled at first by his words, but when Qiao Zhi continued, he understood: Qiao Zhi, too, had someone he cared for. In the past days, Yue Lingjun had observed the signs. Though his sister was still missing, an extra ally—especially one with a squad of formidable guards—could only help.

Still, with the bloody fate of his eldest sister as a warning, Yue Lingjun was reluctant to see his younger sister married into the royal family. After some thought, he decided to speak his mind.

“Your Highness, I am grateful for your aid these past days, but I must be frank,” Yue Lingjun said. Qiao Zhi noticed the change in address and wondered at Yue Lingjun’s meaning. “It was nothing, Brother Yue. Speak freely.”

Though he knew his words might seem ungrateful, with his sister involved, Yue Lingjun set courtesy aside and spoke directly. “Let me remind Your Highness—my sister is already betrothed. Please respect yourself.”

Qiao Zhi was taken aback; he had not expected this. Thinking back, his recent actions must have looked suspicious. He had puzzled over his behavior himself—spent a sleepless night pondering it—but did not believe he had lost his heart. Lianyue was lovable, but also troublesome, and she was his close friend’s fiancée. In the end, he concluded his concern sprang only from treating her as a little sister or friend, just as he did with Qingruo.

Seeing Qiao Zhi silent, Yue Lingjun assumed he had guessed correctly; his face and tone grew colder. “Please respect yourself, Your Highness. I cannot bear for my sister to suffer the same fate as my elder sister. We will find her ourselves. Please take your men and return.”

Behind Qiao Zhi, Danfeng glared furiously at Yue Lingjun. “Well, I’ve seen it all! Master Yue’s change of face is faster than I could ever manage. My lord risked his life to help you, and you—”

“Enough!” Yuwen Lingxi cut him off, meeting Yue Lingjun’s gaze steadily. “Brother Yue, you are mistaken. I harbor no improper intentions toward Yue’er. These past days—first, I am an old acquaintance of hers. Perhaps not close, but at least a friend. Second, your elder sister is my fourth sister-in-law; I regard Yue’er as a sister as well.”

Seeing Yue Lingjun still unconvinced, he shook his head. Was his reputation truly so poor? “Third, as you should know, I am on good terms with Yue’er’s fiancé, Yuwen Lingxi. One should never covet a friend’s wife—this much even I understand.”