I am your man, and I am not that magnanimous.

The hand of Crown Prince Li Yincheng was severed at the wrist by the very tip of his own soft sword, which Guan Shiyin had cunningly snatched and used against him.

“Ah—!” Li Yincheng’s agonized roar tore through the air, raw and piercing, echoing into the heavens.

“Your Highness!” Daichuan and the others heard the scream and hurried back.

Guan Shiyin lunged forward, stretching out his hand to catch Li Yincheng’s severed hand. Just then, Daichuan leapt in through the window, but Guan Shiyin swiftly turned and flung the severed hand like a hidden weapon.

“No!” Li Yincheng shouted in alarm, desperate to reclaim his hand.

“What?” Daichuan didn’t understand, but the flying weapon was already heading straight for his face. He barely had time to raise his sword and chop it down. With a sharp crack, blood splattered as the severed hand was cut in two again.

Opposite him, Li Yincheng looked up to the sky and fainted—his hand was lost forever.

“Protect the prince! Protect the prince!” Daichuan hurried forward to support him.

Guan Shiyin nodded with satisfaction, easily breaking through the guards’ blockade. On his toes, he vaulted onto the roof beam, where Fang Rulai was still under a pressure-point hold.

If she had not been immobilized, Daichuan and the others would have sensed her presence immediately upon entering. But because her qi was suppressed, Daichuan found no trace of them and was instead misled by the fragment of a bodice Guan Shiyin had deliberately left behind, drawing him out to search the nearby willow grove.

Meanwhile, Guan Shiyin, hidden on the beam inside the room, seized the perfect opportunity to sever Li Yincheng’s hand without anyone close enough to follow.

Only then did a sense of relief ease the tightness in Guan Shiyin’s chest. He bent down, cradled Fang Rulai in his arms, vaulted through the roof, and dashed away at once.

The shattering tiles on the ground roused the fainted Li Yincheng.

His eyes opened first to the sight of his severed hand. Raising his head, he saw Daichuan supporting him. He raised his remaining hand and slapped hard. “Why are you standing there like a fool? Aren’t you going after them?”

Daichuan was busy trying to stop the bleeding from the stump, but Li Yincheng’s fierce slap knocked him to the ground. Li Yincheng, losing his support, collapsed as well.

The severed hand hit the ground again, and Li Yincheng’s face contorted in unbearable pain.

Seeing this, Daichuan had no time to rise and instead shouted, “Quick, send for the imperial physician…”

Smack—a sharp slap interrupted his words once more.

Li Yincheng struggled to his feet. “My hand’s already mangled; what use is an imperial physician now?”

Daichuan’s face had long turned pale with fear. Curling up on the ground, he kowtowed repeatedly, “Prince, spare me! Prince, have mercy…”

Li Yincheng kicked him fiercely. “Shut up! Hurry and pursue them! If they escape, your entire Dai clan will have to commit seppuku to atone!”

“Yes, yes,” Daichuan scrambled up, hastening toward the door while shouting, “You! And you all, follow closely! Do not let those two escape!”

The guards knew better than to provoke the injured prince. When called upon, even those not directly summoned pretended they were and swarmed after Daichuan in a rush.

When Li Yincheng steadied himself on the table, ready to order someone to help him, he found the room utterly empty.

“Idiots!” A fresh wave of fury surged within him. His body swayed, nearly collapsing again. He quickly closed his eyes to steady himself.

Just then, from outside the door, a loud, mocking laugh rang out.

“Hahaha, Li Yincheng! So this is your fate!”

Li Yincheng snapped his eyes open and turned his head. At the entrance stood Crown Princess Cheng Yuerong and her maid Shan’er.

Cheng Yuerong was dressed splendidly but her face was bruised and swollen—she had just been beaten by him at Lìfāngzhāi.

Shan’er, frightened by Li Yincheng’s bloodshot eyes, ducked behind Cheng Yuerong and whispered, “Your Highness, the prince is still angry. We should return to Lìfāngzhāi quickly.”

“Still angry? Am I not angry?” Cheng Yuerong waved Shan’er’s hand away carelessly and quickened her pace. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, that must hurt, huh? Never thought you, who usually only dish out the blows, would be the one to get cut this time! Ah, it must have something to do with the empress consort you want to install, right? Where is she now? I’m actually starting to like her. Fine, if it’s her, I’ll give up this position!”

Li Yincheng turned his back, clutching his severed hand behind him, and strode toward Cheng Yuerong. “Your position? You’ve never even been a candidate for it. When did it become your place to give or take? Don’t worry, once I’m done with my own affairs, I will come find you to discuss the other matter we left unsettled! So for now, get lost!”

As they were about to pass each other, Cheng Yuerong stepped forward, blocking him with a left step.

“And if I refuse to leave?”

Li Yincheng grabbed her by the throat immediately. “Then don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

Cheng Yuerong neither retreated nor pleaded, but smiled foolishly. She pointed to her face, barely recognizable beneath the bruises. “What now? Even like this, you still want me to cry out for your merciful grace and ask for your leniency?”

Faced with Cheng Yuerong’s unyielding resolve devoid of any romantic sentiment, Li Yincheng’s contemptuous disdain was unwavering. “At least you’re still alive.”

Cheng Yuerong lifted her chin defiantly, tears welling in her eyes. “But my Xiaor died.”

She did not know where Li Yincheng had learned that Pingshi was hiding in her room, but she was certain she would never surrender him. She knew well that if she handed him over, she would only die faster. No matter how harshly Li Yincheng tortured her for information, as long as she endured, she would be safe. But then her sister, Cheng Yuexiao, entered.

Li Yincheng, unable to extract the truth and unable to explain Yuexiao’s persistent questioning, ordered her detained to force her to speak again. Just as the standoff continued, news came that Luxi had died in Mingde Hall. Li Yincheng immediately branded Yuexiao as a distraction keeping him tied up in Lìfāngzhāi and gave the order for her execution.

Cheng Yuerong’s tears tumbled down. “You knew I had no heir, and this little sister, more than ten years my junior, was almost like a daughter to me. Yet you killed her just like that! Li Yincheng!” She grabbed his robe collar. “Look into your heart—has I, Cheng Yuerong, ever done you any wrong? Has my family been disloyal to you, Crown Prince? You owe me my sister’s life!”

With that, Cheng Yuerong drew a pair of scissors from her sleeve and stabbed toward Li Yincheng’s abdomen.

The scissors barely touched his clothes before he noticed. He kicked out, and Cheng Yuerong, still gripping the scissors, was flung backward, crashing into the furniture and then the corner of the wall. With a “phut,” she spat blood.

Shan’er watched helplessly, too afraid to help, kneeling and kowtowing repeatedly, “Prince, spare her! Prince, have mercy!”

Li Yincheng glanced at the limp Cheng Yuerong, then flicked his sleeve and strode out. “Help your mistress back to Lìfāngzhāi. At tomorrow’s tomb relocation ceremony, I want to see her fully recovered.”

Yuexiao’s death could be concealed with any excuse for a day or two, but if Cheng Yuerong died and couldn’t attend the ceremony, it would surely arouse the suspicion of the Minister of War. He couldn’t risk that. Besides, Pingshi’s whereabouts were still unknown—she could live a few more days.

Li Yincheng strode off in pursuit of Daichuan and the others.

After he left, Shan’er hurried to lift Cheng Yuerong. “Your Highness? How are you? The prince has gone…”

Coughing, Cheng Yuerong lifted her head, and seeing the prince was indeed gone, slowly extended her hand from under the sleeve covering her abdomen. In her palm lay a golden waist token.

Earlier, her assassination attempt was a ruse; the true purpose was to steal the token from the prince’s waist.

Cheng Yuerong placed the token into Shan’er’s hand. “Quick, take this to Xiaoqiu. She must escape the palace amid this chaos and secretly inform my father. My Xiaor must not have died in vain.”

Shan’er wept. “Your Highness, Shan’er will help you up. Since you have the token, Shan’er will escort you and Xiaoqiu out of the palace. Don’t worry. If the prince comes searching, Shan’er will stall for time.”

“You won’t hold him off! No more talk—go now! If he finds out, none of us will escape. Hurry!”

“Yes… Yes, I will!” Shan’er had no choice but to obey. Taking the token, she hurried toward Lìfāngzhāi, where Xiaoqiu was still alive despite Xiaor’s death.

At that moment in Lìfāngzhāi, besides Xiaoqiu, there were two more people—Guan Shiyin and Fang Rulai.

Upon entering, Xiaoqiu was bent over Cheng Yuexiao’s body, weeping. When she heard footsteps, she raised her head halfway before Guan Shiyin reached out and pressed her mouth shut.

Guan Shiyin, carrying Fang Rulai, bypassed Xiaoqiu and headed for the inner chamber.

Fang Rulai glared fiercely, demanding he release her from the pressure points.

She glared again, and Guan Shiyin kissed her eyelids. “I’m your man. I’m no saint. I don’t want to talk right now, so you’d better keep quiet too.”

He had lived twenty years and never encountered such a situation. The woman he loved had been defiled by another man before he could claim her—no matter how he thought about it, he wanted to kill. Yet, at this moment, he restrained himself to just severing the hand of the man who had taken advantage. He felt as though he had achieved enlightenment through restraint.

He had considered slitting that man’s throat in one swift stroke, but no matter if it was possible, the broader situation prevented it. As long as Pingshi remained hidden in the shadows, the palace power structure would remain unchanged, favoring the second prince. Killing one man was easy; escaping the entire palace guard’s pursuit was nearly impossible, especially while carrying Fang Rulai, who had no martial skills.

He was infuriated that Fang Rulai knew nothing of martial arts, but even more so, he was angry at himself for being a martial master yet unable to protect the woman he loved most.

He knew clearly this was not Fang Rulai’s fault, but to calmly turn the page as if nothing had happened was beyond him. If he could lie to himself, the thorn she had driven into his heart would not ache more and more. But letting go was impossible.

He thought he just needed time. Yet now, there was no spare moment to sort out such personal affairs—life was truly overwhelming.

Guan Shiyin placed Fang Rulai on the bed in the inner chamber and, with a punch, smashed the nearby bedpost. With a crack, it broke, causing the bed canopy to fall, the gauze veil covering his head. He hastily lifted his hands to support it.

Looking down, he saw the laughter shining in Fang Rulai’s eyes.