You still haven't come to support me?

The carriage raced along, jolting wildly. Le Qianxue hurriedly clung to Zhan Lianjing’s sleeve. She truly had miscalculated today—because Yuan Tianci had gone missing, she had rushed out in a panic. Now, it seemed, she might not even escape with her life.

Zhan Lianjing shook her hand off in annoyance. “What are you doing?”

Of course, Le Qianxue couldn’t say, “You’re not actually lame and are highly skilled in martial arts, so I’ll be safer near you…” So she said instead, “I’m afraid you might be in danger, Prince Zhan. I’m protecting you!”

Zhan Lianjing’s eyes grew dark as he studied her for a moment. After a brief pause, he replied, “Then hold on tighter.”

Le Qianxue grasped his sleeve again, breathing a sigh of relief. Her quick thinking had proven useful after all.

Suddenly, explosions erupted outside.

Haoyue cried out, “This is bad! An ambush with thunder grenades ahead!”

The carriage swayed violently as it barreled into the blast zone.

Le Qianxue felt a wave of despair and quickly turned to Zhan Lianjing. “Prince Zhan, you—”

She couldn’t very well say, “Prince, your legs are perfectly fine—take me and run!” But the carriage was caught in the chaos; fire broke out in one corner, the compartment flipped, and she and Zhan Lianjing were thrown out.

She still clung to Zhan Lianjing’s sleeve. In the chaos, they both forgot that the far side of Twin Cliffs was a sheer drop.

Dazed, Le Qianxue found herself clinging to the edge, with Zhan Lianjing holding her fast—one hanging from the precipice, the other standing just at the brink.

Zhan Lianjing fixed her with a steely gaze, one hand gripping hers. “Troublesome woman.”

Le Qianxue looked up at him. In truth, she wasn’t terribly afraid; seeing Zhan Lianjing holding her made her feel oddly at ease.

All around them, explosions still thundered. Her voice was soft, barely audible. Zhan Lianjing couldn’t hear her.

Haoyue and Zhuixing tried to rush over, but hadn’t expected another ambush on the hillside. In an instant, dozens of arrows—each tipped with gunpowder—rained down.

Le Qianxue had no idea what was happening. Zhan Lianjing was still holding her, yet suddenly he leapt, pulling her down with him, both of them falling together!

What kind of unlucky year was this for her?

She cursed, “Prince Zhan! If you want to die, don’t drag me with you!”

Zhan Lianjing shot her a glare. This woman, having spoken so sweetly a moment ago, now turned on him in a flash. If he hadn’t wanted to keep his secret from outsiders, he’d have strangled her.

The abyss wasn’t deep, but they hadn’t realized a deep pool lay below. Zhan Lianjing flicked a steel chain from his sleeve, catching a tree branch, saving them both from plunging into the icy water.

Le Qianxue let out a breath of relief. Even at this point, Zhan Lianjing still managed not to reveal his secret—his patience was remarkable.

But that was for the best. If she ever learned the truth, he’d likely want her dead.

With that thought, she swung herself to the shore.

“Prince Zhan, let me catch you,” Le Qianxue called, holding out her arms.

Zhan Lianjing thought this woman did have a conscience after all and his expression softened. But as he landed, Le Qianxue suddenly shrank back, letting him crash to the ground!

He looked up, eyes blazing with fury—she had tricked him!

He gripped a handful of sand, his gaze filled with resentment. Le Qianxue said, “Prince Zhan, it’s your fault for not letting me go earlier. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Zhan Lianjing, soaked in the icy water, kept his composure. “If I could have known, I’d be an immortal, not a prince.”

Hearing this, Le Qianxue felt he spoke the truth—perhaps he really hadn’t known. She sighed. Every time she encountered Zhan Lianjing, nothing good ever happened; she was resigned to her fate.

She walked over. “Prince Zhan, shall I carry you across?”

Zhan Lianjing seized her hand and yanked her into the freezing water.

Taken by surprise, Le Qianxue choked and coughed, her whole body trembling with cold. The pool never saw sunlight; her lips were turning blue.

“Zhan Lianjing! Was it really necessary to be so petty just because I played a little trick on you?” Le Qianxue grumbled as she waded ashore, sneezing repeatedly.

Zhan Lianjing moved as if nothing had happened, standing up slowly and making his way out of the water.

Le Qianxue knew he was only pretending to be lame. Did he really intend to reveal his secret so openly to her?

But after just a few steps, Zhan Lianjing seemed to falter. Impatiently, he said, “Aren’t you going to help your prince?”

Le Qianxue hurried to his side, helping him to sit beneath a tree. She eyed his legs, puzzled. How had he managed to stand perfectly well in the Drunken Painting House the other day? Now he needed her support—was he putting on an act?

Zhan Lianjing spoke in a flat tone. “My legs aren’t truly crippled. You needn’t be surprised.”

“So you’re just pretending to be lame, Prince Zhan?”

“If I could walk and run, why would I pretend? Of every thirty days, there are twenty-nine when I can’t stand.” Zhan Lianjing replied.

Twenty-nine days each month... only one day left when he was normal. Le Qianxue didn’t believe it, but since he’d said so, she played along, nodding. “So that’s how it is. You really are unfortunate, Prince.”

Zhan Lianjing glanced at her. He knew Le Qianxue wasn’t easy to fool—why did she seem to believe him so readily?

Now, trapped here with her, if he truly couldn’t move, they’d surely die.

When he’d held her hand a moment ago, he’d realized she had no internal energy. Relying on this woman would be as futile as praying for a miracle.

Le Qianxue couldn’t be bothered to expose him. Pretending ignorance was the safer course.

Both their clothes were drenched. With her wet garments clinging to her, Le Qianxue’s figure was revealed, and as she drew near, Zhan Lianjing caught a faint medicinal fragrance from her, clean and delicate. He was reminded of that night, and an unbidden heat stirred within him.

She, on the other hand, seemed unconcerned. Shivering with cold, she looked around. “I’ll go gather some firewood.”

Zhan Lianjing grunted, letting her go.

Le Qianxue was gone for quite some time—nearly until afternoon—without returning. Zhan Lianjing frowned. As expected, this woman was unreliable; perhaps she had run off.

He was considering trying to stand when he heard her voice approaching. She came running back, cheerful. “Prince Zhan, look what I found!”

Zhan Lianjing looked over. Le Qianxue had gathered dry wood—and caught a small rabbit.

He narrowed his eyes, rubbing his stomach. At least she’d thought about food.

Le Qianxue struggled to get the fire going, then stripped off her outer garments, leaving only her underclothes to dry by the flames.

Zhan Lianjing, seeing how unconcerned she was, commented, “No wonder your reputation in the capital is less than stellar. Don’t you know to be more reserved around men?”

Le Qianxue, busy cleaning the rabbit, didn’t even look up. “What’s there to care about? You’re an upright man, Prince. At a time like this, if I worried about decorum and then caught a chill, what good would that do?”

Zhan Lianjing was rendered speechless. Thinking it over, it made sense. Le Qianxue hadn’t learned internal energy; she couldn’t dry her clothes with it.

He turned away, refusing to look at her.

Le Qianxue was already roasting rabbit meat. Casually, she asked, “Prince, have you figured out who set the ambush for you?”

“What if I have? What if I haven’t?” Zhan Lianjing replied. “Are you going to avenge me?”

“How would a mere woman like me understand your court intrigues? It’s just odd—you’re hunted wherever you go. Such popularity isn’t easy to come by,” Le Qianxue quipped.

Zhan Lianjing turned to glare at her, only to see her eyes fixed hungrily on the rabbit—greed shining in her gaze.

“Perhaps it’s your bad luck. Every time I meet you, something goes wrong,” he said.

Le Qianxue snorted. “You can’t say that. Last time it was your lieutenant who tried to kill you. If I hadn’t been there, you’d have died from poisoning.”

Zhan Lianjing recalled the incident. “Now that you mention it, I almost forgot. You gave me a pill to counteract the poison. Since you know some medicine, why wouldn’t you treat Fu Xiao’s beloved?”

Le Qianxue replied, “That was a gift from Brother Tianci. How would I have such a miraculous pill myself?”

“How strange—you know Yuan Tianci?” Zhan Lianjing asked.

Le Qianxue deftly shifted the topic. “I know many people. Why so many questions? Tell me—did you take Brother Tianci?”

Zhan Lianjing was taken aback, staring at her. “Yuan Tianci is missing?”

Judging by his reaction, Le Qianxue thought he wasn’t lying.

“So it wasn’t you? Then who?”

Zhan Lianjing understood now. No wonder Le Qianxue had latched onto him today—it was all for Yuan Tianci.

He had indeed planned to capture Yuan Tianci, though not so soon. Even if he did, that proud man might refuse to treat anyone.

Now, Yuan Tianci’s disappearance was truly suspicious.

“I do need him to heal someone,” Zhan Lianjing said, “but his disappearance wasn’t my doing. Once we’re out of here, I’ll help you get to the bottom of it.”

Le Qianxue nodded. Zhan Lianjing was a man of his word; he wouldn’t deceive her.

By now, the rabbit was roasted. Le Qianxue split it in half, handing a portion to Zhan Lianjing. “Here, Prince.”

He accepted it. Though there was little seasoning, the wild rabbit was still delicious.

Since becoming a prince, he’d grown used to fine food and luxury. It had been ages since he’d tasted such simple fare.