Chapter Fifteen: The Murderer Who Came Knocking

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There was not a whisper of wind; even the cicadas, stifled by the oppressive heat, had retreated beneath the leaves to catch their breath. Xiaoqiao sat under the shade of a tree, hugging her knees, lost and dazed, her gaze fixed longingly in the direction of the nobleman’s residence, her mind adrift.

That was the very spot where she had stood with her cousin last time, talking together. It was as if the image of that moment still lingered: the beautiful young man’s languid, autumn-tinted eyes, his every movement etched deep into her memory. What was happening to her? Xiaoqiao gripped her sleeve tightly, her face flushing, heart pounding.

A palm slapped her shoulder, startling her out of her reverie.

Kaiming ignored the murderous look she shot her and naturally sat down beside her. “What are you thinking about, so lost in thought?”

Xiaoqiao glared fiercely at her, then looked away, her eyes unfocused once more. “None of your business.”

“It really isn’t,” Kaiming replied, stretching out on the grass with a yawn, “but I did take someone’s money and am obliged to help them out. If there’s anything troubling you, ask me.”

“I never paid you,” Xiaoqiao said coldly. “And I don’t appreciate you bothering me right now.”

“Taking your bottle counted as accepting a bribe,” Kaiming replied.

“And what are you, that I’d need to bribe you! Stop acting so smug after taking advantage!” Xiaoqiao snapped, her voice rising, her beautiful eyes wide with indignation.

Kaiming plugged her ears with two fingers, frowning and blinking at Xiaoqiao, then suddenly blurted, “It’s a matter of the heart, isn’t it?”

Caught off guard by this sudden question, Xiaoqiao was left speechless for a moment before turning her head. “What would you know?”

Kaiming studied the curve of her back. “You really like your cousin?”

“…”

“Marrying close relatives isn’t good. The chances of having deformed children are high.”

“…”

“Four-legged frogs are hard to find, but two-legged men are everywhere.”

“…”

Xiaoqiao spun around, teeth gritted, eyes bulging. “Shut up and leave me in peace!”

“Miss Xiaoqiao, it’s not good to keep things bottled up in your heart. It’ll make you sick. As the saying goes, only heart’s medicine cures heart’s ailments—”

“I am not sick! You’re the one who’s sick! You lunatic!” Xiaoqiao shouted, leaping up to leave, but her foot caught on a stone, and her ankle twisted, sending her tumbling sideways.

She landed squarely on Kaiming, who yelped in pain. Realizing she was sprawled across Kaiming’s body, Xiaoqiao let a wicked thought take hold and deliberately pressed down harder, lying across her chest and watching with satisfaction as Kaiming’s face contorted in agony. “Now you see the consequences of meddling! Serves you right!”

A crack sounded not far off, as if someone had snapped a brittle branch. Both girls looked up to see a young soldier standing a few meters away, his face frozen in shock, staring at them as though he’d stumbled upon something scandalous.

For a moment, they were both dumbfounded, oblivious to how strange it must have looked to an outsider—two women beneath the trees, entwined together, with Kaiming’s expression as if she were being ravished, inviting all manner of misunderstanding.

“Kuang?” Kaiming finally recognized his face.

Kuang, looking as if he’d just swallowed a fly, spun around in embarrassment and bolted from the thicket. Kaiming and Xiaoqiao exchanged a glance, nearly bumping noses, then sprang apart as though shocked by electricity, rubbing their arms as goosebumps rose.

“My reputation!” Kaiming wailed, close to tears. Judging by Kuang’s reaction, he must think she was up to something indecent. By tomorrow, the whole camp would be abuzz with rumors of her “unnatural tendencies.”

“Your reputation was ruined long ago!” Xiaoqiao stamped her foot in fury. “I’m a young lady of the Zhen family and haven’t even been married off yet—”

Kaiming nodded solemnly. “You have my deepest sympathy.”

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Incensed, Xiaoqiao picked up a stone to hurl at her. “This is all your fault!”

Kaiming shrieked and fled. “Killing me won’t silence the witness! Kuang is the one you should be after!”

Xiaoqiao chased her out of the thicket, not realizing her earlier gloom had vanished without a trace.

It had been days since she last saw Mu. When she did, his face was pale, his body weak, as if he’d just recovered from a serious illness.

When he furtively pulled aside his collar, revealing his left shoulder, Kaiming gasped. His shoulder blade was wrapped again and again with white gauze, stained here and there with blood.

“What happened?” she asked at once.

“It’s nothing,” Mu replied with a strained smile that only made his pallor more pronounced. “I fell for the enemy’s trick.”

“What trick?” Kaiming’s brows knitted as her gaze sharpened. “Who exactly is your enemy?”

“It’s better if you don’t know,” Mu smiled. “I’m afraid you wouldn’t hold up under torture.”

“Don’t give me that!” She gave him a playful slap, and he cried out in pain. She quickly asked, “Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all,” Mu replied with a goofy grin. “Kaiming, what should I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“The more I look at you, the more pleasing you are to the eye.”

“I’ve never been bad-looking,” she replied shamelessly.

Mu burst out laughing. “Before I met you, I never imagined you’d be so amusing.”

“Amusing?” Kaiming pointed to herself. “Me?”

Mu smiled faintly. “I just got back and already heard about your little scandal.”

“What scandal could I possibly have?”

He shook his head on purpose. “Truly heartbreaking. I didn’t realize you liked women.”

She jumped as if shocked. “Has it really spread?”

“At least I heard about it,” he teased, “Is it true?”

Kaiming spun in circles anxiously. “No wonder—no wonder everyone in the dormitory has been acting strange around me these days. Even Chunhua keeps her distance. As if I’d ever be interested in her, with her looks and height!”

“Kaiming, enough. My wound really does hurt.” Mu pressed his hand to his injury, feigning a pained expression. “It hurts to hold in my laughter!”

Kaiming glared at him. “You don’t believe me either?”

“How could I not trust you?” Mu leaned in, his eyes suddenly deep and tender. “Haven’t we already tried it? You were so enchanted back then…”

Kaiming’s eyes went wide as saucers. Suddenly, she pressed her hand firmly on his wounded shoulder, making Mu yelp with pain and hop about. Kaiming snorted, “Serves you right!” and stormed off in a huff.

Watching her go, Mu slowly straightened up, tugged at his collar, and wiped the smile from his face, a pensive look replacing it.

He must not let her worry. She must not know. This was a battle between the Dai household and himself; he could not let any innocent person be dragged in.

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Ever since stumbling upon that inexplicable murder, Tianming’s heart had been clenched for days. Ji had summoned her for a talk out of the blue, Mu had somehow ended up injured, and then there was the whole business with Xiaoqiao and the rumor of her “unnatural relationship.” Her mood was foul, her training troubled. Distracted during weapons practice, she nearly slashed her sparring partner’s face.

She was ordered to stand as punishment outside the training grounds. Within minutes, her clothes were soaked through, clinging to her skin as if she’d been fished from water.

She sighed that if this kept up, no amount of beauty care would save her. Sweat stung her eyes, and as she wiped them, she caught sight of the camp’s heavy gates slowly opening. The vermilion doors creaked inward, and a tall, dark red horse pranced through.

Kaiming blinked and rubbed her eyes. No mistake—it was a horse! What was a red horse doing in camp today? With a fine saddle and reins, it looked nothing like a wild horse. Suddenly, a memory flashed through her mind: that night, a red horse, and a figure in a cloak. She shuddered. The assassin had come!

She forgot all about her punishment and bolted, desperate to find a place to hide. That archer needed only a single arrow to pierce her skull.

Ji was supervising training at the field’s edge and saw her dash madly toward the dormitory. He ordered the soldiers to seize her. At that critical moment, Kaiming’s strength was astonishing; she broke free from several men and kept running.

The training ground fell silent, everyone’s attention on her.

“Let go! He’s here! He’s here!” she screamed, flinging off grasping hands.

“Who’s here?” Ji demanded, hurrying over. “What’s happened?”

“The assassin! He’s come to kill me! That horse—it’s his!” she cried, her face ashen. “We’re all doomed!”

Ji’s expression changed instantly. “Explain yourself! What assassin? What horse?!”

A strong arm wrapped around her from behind. Mu had appeared at some point, clamping his hand over her mouth and whispering, “It’s all right! It’s all right! Don’t be afraid!”

Unable to speak, she could only stare at Mu with terrified eyes.

Mu shielded her from Ji’s probing gaze, soothing her, “Don’t worry, I’m here. No one will hurt you. Trust me! Trust me, don’t be afraid!”

There was something so steady in his words and actions that Kaiming gradually stopped struggling. His eyes fixed on hers, enunciating each word, “Don’t speak! Do you hear me? Don’t say a word!”

In his eyes, Kaiming saw a warning, not mere reassurance—something more urgent, almost desperate. Don’t speak! The events of that night must never be revealed; Mu was warning her.

“What’s going on here?” Outside the chaotic circle, a calm voice rang out. Though feminine, it was anything but delicate—rather, it carried innate authority.

Ji and the soldiers halted. Ji answered respectfully, “General Dayin, one of my soldiers had a minor episode. Nothing serious.”

With a soft acknowledgment, the men parted, and Kaiming saw the speaker. Dressed in full military regalia, her hair was coiled high and black as lacquer, her face round as the moon, brows like distant peaks. Her eyes, bright and limpid, were as sharp as an eagle’s—eyes seasoned by war and slaughter, impossible for ordinary people to meet directly. She studied Kaiming, her expression unreadable, lips parting lightly. “Is it this woman soldier?”

The moment Kaiming saw her, she felt all strength drain from her body—the reaction of prey caught in a predator’s gaze. This woman was the eagle; she, the rabbit.

Kaiming allowed Mu to hold her, staring up at the dangerously alluring woman. She barely registered her beauty, her gaze drawn instead to the nearly floor-length gray cloak and the rare red horse nuzzling at her side. Time seemed to rewind to that night of blood, the cloaked woman astride her steed, cold eyes fixed on her, her voice low and menacing: “What you saw tonight—tell no one!”

Cold sweat slid silently down Kaiming’s brow as she shivered.

“It’s probably just the heat—she lost control for a moment,” Ji said, uncertain, and bowed to the woman. “General Dayin.”

General Dayin?! Upon hearing the name, all the blood in Kaiming’s veins seemed to freeze.

The murderer was none other than the revered General Dayin, idol of the people?