Chapter Twenty-Six Dead?

The two men in black paid him no heed, seemingly engrossed in their own discussion. When they finally reached a consensus, both pairs of eyes turned simultaneously to Yu Hualiang.

Their gaze made Yu Hualiang’s heart race in dread, and he even forgot to call for help.

The men in black, their eyes sharp as wolves, advanced on him with blades drawn. Terrified, Yu Hualiang turned pale and stumbled back several steps.

"You... you’re not here to kill me, are you?" he stammered in panic. What terrible luck he had today! As he retreated, he blurted, "Wait... didn’t you just say I was your master?"

One of the men in black snickered. "Then why don’t you tell us, who is our master?"

Who on earth knew who their master was? The word "Dark" flashed through Yu Hualiang’s mind, and, with his wild imagination, he blurted out, "The Lord of Darkness! The Dark Guard Corps! Dark... dark, dark, dark..."

The men in black were struck dumb by his absurdity—he was a complete fool. They couldn’t fathom what the Seventh Prince hoped to test by sending them to him, nor why they had to let themselves be pelted with stones by this idiot.

Yet Lord Ye Fang had instructed them well: if this man was not dealt with, he would one day become the prince’s weakness. For the prince’s ambitions, his subordinates must rid him of all hindrances, even if they risked incurring his wrath.

They forced Yu Hualiang into a corner. He could see the murderous gleam in their eyes and the cold glint of their blades.

The afternoon was turning chill, and without warning, a heavy snow descended. The Seventh Prince waited at the Pavilion of Ten Li for news, but two hours passed with no word.

Anxiety gnawed at him. He had ordered that, whether Yu Hualiang passed the test or not, he was to be brought back. Why, then, was there still no sign of them?

"Ye Fang, go look for them," the prince commanded irritably.

Ye Fang obeyed, darting into the woods. Before long, the two men in black returned with him.

They immediately fell to their knees before the prince, a posture of guilt and supplication. An ominous twitch flickered at the prince’s brow.

"Where is he?" the prince demanded.

"My lord, he was a spy. We have disposed of him—"

Before the words were out, the prince’s eyes flashed with fury. He drew Ye Fang’s sword and, with a single stroke, beheaded the speaker.

Blood and flesh spattered; the severed head traced an arc through the air before landing in the distant snow, staining it crimson.

The prince’s blade was so swift that the man’s body had not even realized it was headless, convulsing as blood spurted from his neck and splattered his companion.

Both the second man and Ye Fang were stunned. Though Ye Fang had long served the prince, he had never witnessed him in such lethal action. Even for an assassin-born guard like Ye Fang, the prince’s speed was beyond comprehension. The prince thrust his blade before the remaining man in black.

"Where is he?"

Now, the prince exuded a murderous aura; his eyes were as cold and sharp as blades, making anyone under his gaze feel as though they were suffering a death by a thousand cuts.

Trembling, the man in black pointed toward the depths of the forest. "In... in a thatched hut..."

Without another word, the prince dashed inside, plagued by regret. Why hadn’t he trusted him? He could see Yu Hualiang was innocent. If anything had happened to him...

What would he do?

Ye Fang had never seen the prince so frantic. Despite his own remarkable agility, he could not keep pace. The more anxious the prince became, the more Ye Fang feared Yu Hualiang would become his Achilles’ heel.

If that day came, perhaps it would be better if Yu Hualiang simply died.

"Ziliang!" The prince burst through the door. Aside from the glaring bloodstains in the corner, what caught his eye was the man tending to Yu Hualiang’s wounds, removing his clothes.

The man turned, recognizing the prince and starting to bow, but the prince shoved him aside.

"Ziliang!" he called again, but Yu Hualiang was already unconscious from blood loss.

The prince saw the blood oozing from his abdomen and pressed down in alarm. "Ziliang! You’re safe now! Wake up, Ziliang!"

"Um..."

"Ziliang! Ziliang!" The prince’s eyes brimmed with tears, but no matter how desperately he called, Yu Hualiang lay still as a corpse.

"Um... Your Highness, I am a physician," the man ventured.

The prince’s glacial gaze swept over him, freezing him in place. He roared, "Since you’re a physician, why aren’t you treating him? If he dies, you won’t live either!"

The man shrank back at his outburst, then hurried to Yu Hualiang’s side, unfastened the remaining garments, and began his work.

"Your Highness, please lay the patient flat," he instructed.

The prince would do anything for Yu Hualiang, even acting as assistant to this young-looking physician.

"Your Highness, these herbs need to be ground."

"Ye Fang, give me your knife!" The prince took the blade and chopped the herbs, making Ye Fang wince.

"Your Highness, start a fire. The needle must be sterilized."

"Ye Fang, build a fire!" Ye Fang rushed about, exhausted and irritable, especially seeing Yu Hualiang lying there as if enjoying himself.

When the fire was ready, the physician measured the wound. "Three inches deep—fortunately, it missed the vital organs. Your Highness, hold him; we have no anesthetic."

As the physician threaded the needle into the jagged wound, Yu Hualiang reacted immediately, his brow furrowing and sweat pouring down his face.

"Ziliang... it’s all right... just bear with it," the prince murmured, squeezing his hand and wiping his brow.

With the second stitch, Yu Hualiang’s response grew more violent; he began to twist in pain. The prince held him down, snapping at the doctor, "Be gentle!"

The physician nodded, but his hands showed no mercy. Yu Hualiang bit down hard on his own lip, drawing blood, which the prince saw with a pang of anguish.

He offered his arm, and Yu Hualiang bit down without hesitation, making the prince grunt in pain.

The physician looked up. "Your Highness..."

"It’s nothing. Do your work."

Seven stitches later, it was finally done. Yu Hualiang felt as though he’d walked through the gates of hell. When he released his bite, the prince withdrew his arm, the flesh torn and bloody.

The physician quickly bandaged him, noticing fresh blood seeping from the prince’s bandaged hand. "Your Highness, your hand—?"

"A burn. How is Ziliang?" the prince asked.

The physician took his pulse. "Your Highness, he is out of danger. He must rest quietly and avoid exertion lest the wound reopen."

The prince sat by his side, gazing at Yu Hualiang’s pale, fragile face with a dull ache in his heart.

He gripped his limp hand, gently drying the sweat from his brow.

Catching sight of the physician, also drenched in sweat, the prince asked, "What is your name?"

The man bowed. "Your Highness, I am Wang Ruosheng, son of the royal physician Wang Hao."

The prince nodded. "Come to my residence later for your reward."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Wang Ruosheng replied gratefully.

"You may leave. I will care for him."

With that, Wang Ruosheng had no choice but to obey. Before leaving, he reminded, "Yes, Your Highness, but do take care—not to move the patient, lest the wound reopen."

Seeing the prince nod, Wang Ruosheng finally departed. Just before closing the door, he thought he glimpsed the prince kissing Yu Hualiang.

He shook his head. Impossible! Just his imagination!

"Hey!"

Wang Ruosheng looked up to see a blue-clad guard leaning against a pillar.

Ye Fang scrutinized him from head to toe. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

Wang Ruosheng answered politely, "I am Wang Ruosheng, a physician from the Wang family. I came to gather herbs, but was caught in the snow and took shelter here, not expecting to stumble into... this affair."

Ye Fang eyed the herbs in his basket and decided to believe him. If nothing else, Yu Hualiang’s luck was extraordinary; even in such a remote wild, he managed to find a physician!

"In the future, don’t wander in such places. You’ll arouse suspicion," Ye Fang grumbled.

Wang Ruosheng nodded, not taking offense, and went about his own business. He had only come to gather some herbs, and by chance, those very herbs had saved Yu Hualiang’s life.

Yu Hualiang, however, did not feel lucky. He wondered why he was still alive and in such pain.

He opened his eyes to a sky full of snow and the handsome face of the Seventh Prince. But his eyelids soon grew heavy, and he fell asleep in the prince’s arms.

It was not until the following afternoon that he slowly opened his eyes again, finding himself surrounded by luxurious bed curtains and pearl drapes—not his room.

Turning his head, he saw the Seventh Prince asleep at his bedside.

Asleep, the prince’s features were relaxed and gentle, his lashes curled, mouth upturned as if in a pleasant dream.

In this state, he seemed almost like a child. Yu Hualiang wanted to drape a blanket over him, but even the slightest movement felt like a knife to his side.

The pain made him hiss, and the prince woke with a start. Seeing Yu Hualiang awake, he was overcome with emotion and embraced him tightly.

Yu Hualiang stared in confusion as the prince whispered by his ear, "Ziliang, thank heavens you’re all right..."

"Your Highness..." Yu Hualiang’s voice was hoarse and barely audible, but the prince hushed him, offering water. "Ziliang, just focus on recovering. The two assassins have been captured."

At the mention of those assassins, Yu Hualiang’s eyes widened. "You must be careful—someone wants to harm you!"

The prince soothed him. "Don’t worry, Ziliang. No one can hurt me."

Yu Hualiang caught his breath and added, "They had jade pendants engraved with the word 'Dark'... be careful."

He slipped back into unconsciousness, leaving the prince's heart warmed. Yu Hualiang was no traitor—he was simply too kindhearted.

Now, it was time to find out who had dared to give the order to harm him.

"Mercy, Your Highness! I was wrong!"

From the torture chamber came bloodcurdling screams. The prince, wearing a chilling smile, wielded a small knife, slicing through the finger bones of the culprit one by one.

"Was it this hand?"

Ye Fang, hiding behind, shuddered as the prince severed another bone. "Who gave you the courage... to lay a hand on him?"

Blood pooled on the floor; the man was numb with pain. Ye Fang watched anxiously, worried he might be betrayed.

"Ye Fang!"

"Yes?" Ye Fang replied, startled.

The prince flicked his bloodied knife, which landed quivering in the table beside Ye Fang.

He wiped his hands with a white cloth. "Finish him off... death by a thousand cuts."