Chapter 118: People Part as Easily as Flowers Fall (Part Nine) (Volume Three, End)

Chuxiu struggled to project an air of unwavering confidence, feigning indignation as she challenged Prince Mu: "Does Your Highness not trust me? Or do you perhaps not trust the Yun clan?"

"Madam, you speak too heavily. Naturally, I trust the Yun clan. I merely fear that some may be fishing in troubled waters, not only deceiving me but also tarnishing the prestige of the Marquis of Lixin’s estate." Prince Mu’s smile remained, but his tone was devoid of warmth, chillingly steady.

He had said he trusted the Yun clan, but he had not said he trusted her...

Chuxiu caught the distinction, and unwilling to concede, she hardened her voice: "Your Highness should think carefully. These shadow guards are the death-sworn of the Yun clan. To remove their masks is to strike a blow against the very face of the Yun family!"

Hearing this, Prince Mu’s phoenix eyes narrowed. He scrutinized her face for a long moment, appearing to struggle with suppressed anger or perhaps weighing his next move. Finally, he spoke again: "The offense of my intrusion is mine; I apologize to you, Madam. But the masks of these guards must be removed today!"

Chuxiu was struck by a mixture of shock and fury. This was no longer just about Shen Yu’s safety; it was a matter of the Yun clan’s honor. She met his gaze with clear, resolute eyes and said coldly, "For hundreds of years, no one has dared to demand that a Yun shadow guard remove their mask. Though the Yun clan is not what it once was and now supports Your Highness, this ancient precedent cannot be broken, and you should not make such an excessive demand. I cannot be the one to betray the honor of my house."

Even if she were to abandon the Yun industry in Northern Xi, even if she were to fund Prince Mu’s cause, the Yun clan were not subjects of Southern Xi, nor were they subordinate to Nie Peihan. How could she ever agree to such a demand?

"It seems the Yun clan lacks the fortune to serve Your Highness." Chuxiu raised her right hand, intending to signal the guards to retreat.

Before the gesture could be completed, the sound of urgent hoofbeats echoed through the empty street. Everyone looked toward the source to see a lone horseman approaching in haste—a young man holding a torch.

Chuxiu squinted, and as he drew closer, she recognized him as Cang Jiang, Prince Mu’s personal bodyguard. In the torchlight, his face was etched with anxiety. He leapt from his horse and knelt, reporting, "I, Cang Jiang, have an urgent matter to relay."

Seeing Cang Jiang’s expression, Prince Mu’s face changed instantly. He asked in a low voice, "What happened to her?"

*Her?* He must mean Luan Su. Chuxiu listened intently. Cang Jiang had risen and approached the Prince, clearly hesitant to speak openly.

Prince Mu glanced at Chuxiu and said to Cang Jiang, "Madam Chuxiu is not an outsider. You may speak freely."

Cang Jiang reported, "Concubine Luan’s health has not recovered since her miscarriage, and tonight she was suddenly struck by agonizing abdominal pain... The estate physicians are at their wits' end, so I took the liberty of summoning the Young Marquis Shen to treat her. He is currently with the steward, collecting medicine. Your Highness, what should be done?"

Before Cang Jiang had even finished, Chuxiu’s heart skipped a beat. Shen Yu was treating Luan Su? Then, among these fifty guards... he was not here?

Realizing this, Chuxiu let out a long breath. She looked at Prince Mu and saw his expression was turbulent, caught between worry for Luan Su and his own suspicions. He remained silent, brow furrowed.

Chuxiu felt her resolve strengthen. She asked coldly, "Your Highness, do you intend to return to the estate to attend to Concubine Luan, or will you continue to inspect the Yun clan’s shadow guards?"

Prince Mu looked at her, but said nothing, offering no indication of his intent.

Chuxiu sighed pointedly. "The Yun clan has raised shadow guards for centuries; these silver masks are as precious to them as their own lives. If they are forced to reveal their faces to outsiders, they would rather choose death."

Her tone was neither humble nor arrogant, tinged with a feigned regret that even she could barely distinguish from performance. "I believed the Yun clan truly supported Your Highness, yet you respond with suspicion rather than gratitude. If that is the case, I have nothing more to say. If you persist in this aggression, forcing the humiliation of my clan, then this matter must come to an end."

She remembered what the Matriarch had once told her: she was young and a widow, and even if she spoke out of turn, Prince Mu would not hold it against her. With this in mind, she grew bolder. She raised her hand, ready to signal the retreat.

At that moment, Prince Mu finally spoke: "Madam, please calm your anger. It was my offense. The matter is of great importance, and I could not help but be overly cautious. Furthermore, as the saying goes, it is better to kill by mistake than to let one slip through the net."

*Better to kill by mistake than to let one slip through the net...* Hearing these words, Chuxiu felt a chill run through her. She could easily imagine Shen Yu’s fate should he remain in Yanlan City. A man as ruthless and sinister as Prince Mu would never let him go easily.

Chuxiu’s eyes darted as she processed this. Her momentary lapse in focus did not go unnoticed, but Prince Mu interpreted it as lingering anger. He took a step back, attempting to smooth over their relations: "Concubine Luan is ill, and I cannot remain here. The Yun clan is her kin; by marriage, we are family. My offense today is something I shall personally apologize for to the Matriarch and you at a later date."

Chuxiu knew when to be sensible. Seeing the Prince had offered an apology, she knew she could not push too far. She softened her voice: "You are my savior; I am eternally grateful. Now that the Yun clan and the Prince’s estate are bound by shared interests, how could I ever undermine you? Let us simply trust those we employ."

Hearing this, Prince Mu knew her anger had dissipated. He coughed awkwardly and said, "Then I shall leave this to you, Madam. I must return to the estate to see to Concubine Luan."

"Please extend my regards to the Concubine," Chuxiu added.

The remark seemed timely, as Prince Mu’s expression softened further. He nodded to her, "Thank you, Madam. I shall convey your message." With that, he signaled his personal guards to retreat, mounted his horse, and rode off with Cang Jiang in a flurry of speed.

The captain of the Prince’s guards, having overheard most of the exchange, was stunned to see the Prince humble himself so unexpectedly. He looked at Chuxiu with newfound respect, stepped forward, and bowed: "I was too presumptuous earlier. I hope you will forgive me, Madam."

Chuxiu did not look at him, simply saying, "You speak too heavily, Captain. Can your men withdraw now?"

The captain, rebuffed, said nothing more and departed with his hundred guards, even ordering the city gate soldiers to stand aside to facilitate the departure of the Yun guards.

The South Gate returned to an eerie silence. The tense standoff dissolved. The fifty shadow guards had not uttered a sound, standing ready as they waited for orders.

Chuxiu gazed at the empty street. She knew that since Shen Yu was detained by Luan Su’s illness, he would not be able to leave the city tonight. Yet, these guards had to go.

Missing this opportunity, she wondered if Shen Yu would ever escape. But his absence tonight was perhaps a stroke of luck, inadvertently preserving the relationship between the Yun clan and Prince Mu. Chuxiu felt a glimmer of relief, though her body was drained of strength. Lacking the spirit to command the guards, she told Zhuying, "Tell them to leave the city."

Zhuying frowned deeply. "The Young Marquis has not arrived yet."

"He will not come tonight... we must find another way," Chuxiu murmured, turning to return to her carriage.

Suddenly, the sound of hoofbeats echoed on the street once more. A figure in black, wearing a silver mask, appeared. The build was identical to Shen Yu’s!

Chuxiu was both shocked and overjoyed. Before he could approach, she signaled Zhuying, "Quick! Bring him to the carriage!" She boarded the vehicle herself.

A moment later, Shen Yu, dressed in the guise of a shadow guard, climbed into the carriage. He removed his mask and sighed with a smile, "That was close. I’m covered in a cold sweat."

For over a month, Chuxiu had avoided him, acting out the rift between their families. Seeing him now, under such circumstances, her eyes grew hot. She spoke with a mix of relief and rebuke, "What were you thinking? Are you trying to scare me to death?"

Shen Yu returned to his usual roguish demeanor, grinning as he explained, "I didn't want to! I was just about to change and meet you when the Prince’s men arrived, claiming his concubine was ill and asking for my help. I was terrified! I thought it was a trap, so I steeled myself before going."

Fearing the worst, Shen Yu had worn the shadow guard’s uniform under his own clothes. Before leaving, he had packed his medical kit with two daggers and the silver mask. Fortunately, the late hour had masked his bulk, and no one had inspected his kit.

At the Prince’s estate, he had treated Luan Su. Her condition was minor—lingering effects of her miscarriage. Realizing he would miss his chance to leave, he claimed the estate lacked the necessary medicine and that he needed to return to his own residence to retrieve it.

Luan Su’s importance was known to all. The guard Cang Jiang, believing him, had sent him off with the steward and several men. Once out of the estate, Shen Yu had knocked them unconscious, stolen a horse, and raced to the South Gate.

Shen Yu recounted the events in a few sentences, but Chuxiu was trembling. "The Prince’s estate is nearby! If he returns and realizes you’ve fled, he will show no mercy! There is no time—you must leave the city at once!"

If the Prince were to calm down and reflect, the flaws in the story would become glaringly obvious. Chuxiu dared not gamble further.

"If you don't go now, it will be too late!" Chuxiu insisted. "These fifty guards are at your disposal. Once you reach Jingzhou, I will pressure the House of Marquis Wenchang to ensure you marry Xiangrong as soon as possible. You... take care of yourself."

Shen Yu nodded, but he did not move. He looked at her with deep, shimmering eyes, his gaze filled with reluctance. Just as she thought he was leaving, he reached out and took her hands, asking with solemnity, "Hanchu, you are reluctant to see me go, aren't you? You don't want me to marry Yun Xiangrong, do you?"

Before she could react, he tightened his grip, his voice burning with confession: "If you just tell me to stay, I won’t go. I won’t marry her!"

Chuxiu looked down at his broad, warm palms holding hers, a touch that brought her immense peace. But what right did she have to ask him to risk his life for her? To remain in Fangzhou was to face certain death.

She suppressed the ache in her throat and looked up, rebuking him, "What nonsense is this?!" She pulled her hands from his grasp and hid them in her sleeves.

As expected, Shen Yu looked dejected, though he had anticipated her refusal. He slowly donned his silver mask, hiding his expression, and said nothing more.

Seeing he still would not leave, Chuxiu grew desperate. She hardened her heart: "Give up! Before, now, and in the future, I have never loved you! The arrow has left the bow; you must marry Yun Xiangrong!" She lifted the carriage curtain and looked at him, resolute. "Take care."

The eyes behind the mask lost their luster—no disappointment, no lingering attachment. Shen Yu climbed out, but just as he reached the threshold, he turned back, grabbed her hand, let the curtain fall, and pressed a swift kiss to her lips.

In a flash, he was gone.

Chuxiu felt the lingering heat on her lips, the sensation of his kiss—hot, soft, and filled with his scent. She instinctively pulled back the curtain; Shen Yu was already walking toward the guards, his back to her.

Though she only saw his back, his posture was straight and tall—and profoundly lonely.

Chuxiu dared not look any longer. She signaled Zhuying to lead the guards out. As she sat back in the carriage, she gripped the edge of the curtain so tightly that it tore from its mount.

Without the curtain, the night wind rushed in, blowing a stray lock of hair across her lips, a tickling sensation that mirrored his fleeting kiss.

Chuxiu inhaled the faint, residual scent of medicine in the air and looked out one last time. There was only Zhuying standing in the wind. The silver light and the murderous intent were gone, leaving only an empty, desolate void.

Facing this scene, Chuxiu finally wept. She did not know why she cried, or what she was mourning. Perhaps everything that should have been said, everything that should have been done, had all dissolved into these silent tears.

People are easily parted; flowers are easily scattered. The turbulent world was about to unveil its true chaos...

(End of Volume III)