As dusk settled, the courtyard was illuminated by nterns hanging in every corner. Ma Changjiang and Ma Wangkun carried a few fragrant roasted sweet potatoes into the pavilion, offering them to Song Chuyi with a smile. “The maids lit the fire outside to roast them. Don’t mind the charred skin—it’s actually delicious and edible!”

  Qingying couldn’t help but ugh, shaking her head as she looked at the charred exterior revealing the red flesh inside. “Eating this will cause too much heat in the body, and then you’ll start coughing again…”

  Song Chuyi, however, was intrigued. She reached out for one and used a spoon from the table to scoop out the soft flesh. While eating, she asked Ma Changjiang, “Since Han Zhi left the city after meeting Lady Fan at Chongyin Tavern, has there been any other movement?”

  Although both she and Zhou Weizhao believed Han Zhi posed little threat now, he was still a venomous snake lurking in the shadows. Even if he had lost interest in targeting her for now, knowing his whereabouts was always a good precaution.

  At the mention of serious matters, Ma Changjiang’s cheerful expression faded, and he nodded solemnly. “Although you instructed us not to track Han Zhi’s movements anymore, we followed him for a few days just in case. After he left Tongzhou by boat, he hasn’t returned. We waited at the docks for several days to confirm that he’s truly gone. As for where he went… We disguised ourselves as fishermen and made contact with Guan Shan. From what Guan Shan revealed, they’ve gone to Fujian.”

  Fujian? Song Chuyi frowned, surprised. Both she and Zhou Weizhao had assumed Han Zhi would be eager for revenge, and the best way to achieve that would be to align himself with Zhou Weizhao. After all, Zhou Weizhao and Zhou Weiqi were natural enemies now…

  But it seemed Han Zhi had other pns. Song Chuyi pondered for a moment before recalling that Consort Fan’s elder brother, Fan Shikun, was stationed in Fujian. Fan Shikun, currently serving as a general there, was reportedly quite skilled in suppressing banditry.

  Han Zhi Went to Fujian – Could He Be Challenging Fan Shikun?

  Han Zhi’s move to Fujian left Song Chuyi puzzled. Known for his twisted and vengeful nature, Han Zhi didn’t follow the expected path of joining Zhou Weizhao to seek revenge. Instead, he seemed to target Fan Shikun, the elder brother of Consort Fan and a key supporter of the Prince of Commandery. Perhaps Han Zhi’s pn was to dismantle the influential Fan cn piece by piece, rendering them powerless.

  While uncertain of his motives, Song Chuyi made a mental note to seek assistance from Lady Shen, wife of Guo Huaiying, through a letter penned by First Lady Cui, urging them to stay vigint.

  As the wind grew fiercer, the ginkgo tree pnted three years ago bent under its strength, threatening to snap. Though the pavilion was sheltered with grass screens and a warm brazier inside, Qingying felt the chill creeping into her bones. She urged Song Chuyi to return home, fearing the Old Lady and Fourth Young Master would grow anxious.

  Before they could leave, sharp crashes interrupted the stillness—tiles shattered to the ground near the ginkgo tree. The wind seemed unnaturally strong.

  Ma Changjiang’s expression turned grim as he listened closely. “Something’s wrong!” he muttered.

  Ma Wangkun peered outside through a crack in the screens. His face darkened as he whispered, “It’s serious—someone extinguished all the nterns.”

  The courtyard guards, Ma San and his men, made no sound, an eerie silence that didn’t match their skill level. They wouldn’t fall without resistance. Moments ter, the csh of bdes echoed in the courtyard, accompanied by Ma San’s distant shout: “Run!”

  The urgency in Ma San’s voice confirmed their fears. The attackers were numerous, and staying would be certain death. Yet, with the pavilion surrounded by water and a single bridge for escape, Song Chuyi’s ck of martial skills left them at a severe disadvantage.

  Suddenly, masked figures descended from the pavilion roof. With no other choice, Ma Changjiang and Ma Wangkun dropped the roasted sweet potatoes and, alongside Qingying, shielded Song Chuyi. Outnumbered and tasked with protecting her, their odds were slim. Outside, Ma San and the guards were preoccupied, leaving no reinforcements.

  Song Chuyi’s heart sank. She couldn’t determine whether the attackers were sent by the Chen family or Yuan Hui, but the odds of survival seemed bleak. At that moment, a fming arrow streaked past her ear, striking a bck-cd assaint’s arm with pinpoint accuracy.

  The unexpected aid startled the attackers. Seizing the moment, Ma Changjiang signaled Ma Wangkun to engage the enemy, buying time for Qingying to escape with Song Chuyi. Qingying hesitated briefly but then dragged Song Chuyi toward the bridge, running with all her strength.

  As they fled, a sword sshed toward them. Qingying released Song Chuyi to block the attack, but Song Chuyi stumbled as her robe caught underfoot. She hit the ground hard, pain shooting through her knees. Desperate, she unsheathed a small dagger from her boot, sshing the fabric to free herself before standing up.

  But no sooner had she risen than a bde was leveled at her brow. The icy chill of the sword and the pungent smell of blood were overwhelming, but the assaint’s piercing gaze was even more terrifying.

  Before she could react, another arrow zipped past, forcing the attacker to dodge. The man retaliated, slicing the arrow mid-flight, but his bde grazed Song Chuyi’s cheek, leaving a vivid crimson streak.

  “Watch out!” A powerful force knocked her to the ground as someone shielded her, rolling them both across the dirt. Dazed, she was pulled to her feet, her heart pounding as Qingying clung to her, sobbing.

  Surveying the wreckage of the courtyard, Song Chuyi realized they had narrowly escaped death.