"Ladies and gentlemen, you've mistaken me for someone else—I'm truly no magical temple maiden!" Seeing herself surrounded, Yun Rao could only smile apologetically, her eyes catching the sight of Wu Chang following An Ziyuan away. Indeed, she wasn't at all worried about her own safety—she certainly didn't fear that if she died, he'd never find the Qilin Ring again. Fuming internally, Yun Rao lifted her gaze to see the leading gentleman speaking coldly, "Maiden, stop defending yourself. You're accompanied by Ling Chen, and your whole body radiates a medicinal scent—can it be anyone else but you?" Upon hearing this, Yun Rao smiled gently, pulled her reins, spun slightly, and with the crowd unprepared, gracefully leapt from her horse onto the branch behind her. Her white robe stood out coldly against the wind. "Wang Shaoming, your lord wasn't killed by me!" she declared clearly, her voice bright, her expression always warm and composed. Impermanence, not far from An Ziyuan, asked upon hearing Yun Rao's call, "Lord, does Cloud Lady know these people?" An Ziyuan did not reply; instead, he gently held the reins, allowing his horse to move freely. "Lord, if we leave Cloud Lady alone, will she be able to handle it?" Impermanence asked, his voice unconsciously tinged with concern. An Ziyuan paused slightly in his grip of the reins, turning to look at him. "The people from Yuming Valley are naturally skilled—those who emerge from there are among the most capable. If even a few minor adversaries can't manage them, how could she have survived this long?" "Yuming Valley?" Impermanence exclaimed. The people of Yuming Valley are the elite who have survived countless life-and-death struggles among hundreds of competitors. Each year, the valley hosts a grand tournament where hundreds are confined within a courtyard, fighting and being fought, solely based on their personal prowess and strategy. Therefore, there were no weaklings within the Valley of the Underworld—those who survived had fought and died repeatedly in battle, their martial prowess and endurance far exceeding that of many figures from the martial circles. She had surely endured those dozen or so life-and-death clashes; had her skills been slightly lacking, she would have become mere meat for others' blades. Gazing at the long swords, gleaming with a cold, silver light under the early winter sun, Yun Rao murmured a silent curse beneath her breath. Drawing on her inner strength, she launched herself into the air, her slender frame weaving through the swordplay without engaging directly. Relying on her superb footwork, she broke free from the encircling fighters and sped toward An Ziyuan and Wuxiang. The others soon followed, though their agility fell far short of hers. When they caught up, Yun Rao had already leapt to the topmost branch above An Ziyuan’s head. Watching them close in, she bit her teeth and, with a light, fluid motion, slipped to An Ziyuan’s back, pressing her cheek against his shoulder and gritting her teeth. "Master An, we are now utterly dependent on each other. Should I fall, you will never find your Qilin bracelet again," she said. An Ziyuan glanced at the group rushing toward them, then turned to her. "You can't win?" Yun Rao lifted her chin slightly, her face neither flushed nor breathless. "I'm not yet fully recovered from my injuries." It's widely rumored throughout the realm that her martial arts skills are nothing short of extraordinary, yet just how clumsy she truly is—only she knows. On most occasions, it's Bai Li Kong and Qu Xiaoman who step in to handle such situations, never needing her to personally intervene. With her two attendants so accomplished in their own right, outsiders naturally develop a sense of both mystery and reverence regarding her. Typically, those who remain unobtrusive and only step in when necessary are either true masters, like An Ziyuan, or, conversely, rather unassuming, like her. However, once one is immersed in the world of the court and the gentry, constantly facing challenges and conflicts—especially someone like her, who seems to accumulate enemies at every turn—if it were known that she wasn't the martial prodigy the tales claim, but rather someone barely competent, even a novice, she would likely have already been slaughtered, dismembered, and subjected to countless wounds. An Ziyuan glanced at her, then extended his hand. "Hand me over—I'll treat your injuries!" Yun Rao, however, pulled her hand back slightly. "I'm already recovered!" "Stand up and flee—tighten your grip, and in a flash he had clutched her waistband, pulling her off her feet." "Unchanging!" he turned, giving the Unchanging a signal. "Yes, sir!" The Unchanging bowed, though puzzled, moved without delay, and in the span of just one incense-burn, he sent everyone sprawling to the ground—without killing a single one. "Thank you, sir!" With a mischievous grimace at the fallen crowd, Yun Rao turned and thanked An Ziyuan with a bright smile. An Ziyuan glanced at her hand tucked securely against her side. "How long do you have before you fall?" Yun Rao felt her heart tighten, meeting his gaze with a look of cautious reserve. "Why do you ask that, sir?" He cast a calm, steady glance over the fallen figures. "How severe would the injuries have to be before even these people could be handled?" Yun Rao blushed, lifting her hand to rub her nose. "There are two strong men here—absolutely no way can I, a weak woman, risk my life just to get through this." "Just as I finished speaking, the Unchanging gave a light, soft chuckle, 'She's indeed weak—though a woman. I think we can skip this. I've never seen someone so lacking in dignity and grace.' As he spoke, he glanced pointedly at the hand she had resting on An Zi-yuan's shoulder. Yun Rao only realized now, after An Zi-yuan had pulled her by her waistband and she had momentarily lost her balance, landing on him, that one of her hands was now supporting his shoulder. Upon the Unchanging's reminder, the hand on his shoulder seemed to grow warm as if scalded, and her face, beneath the mask, flushed slightly. 'Um... I'll go get the horses!' With her eyes lowered and her voice hurried, Yun Rao quickly gathered her breath, rose, and turned to fetch the horses. The Unchanging watched her hurried steps and couldn't help but smile faintly. An Zi-yuan, however, remained calm and silent, saying nothing. He only moved forward once she had mounted and ridden over to him. It was late afternoon when they arrived in Weizhou, and Yun Rao had never been here before, so she quietly followed An Zi yuan’s unchanging pace until they stopped at a refined pavilion. The gate of the pavilion bore the simple characters "An Family," understated yet dignified. "I intend to stay in Weizhou for several years—whether to stay or to leave, it's up to you," An Zi yuan said, turning to her as the horses came to a halt at the gate of the An family estate, his tone calm and measured. "Several years?" Yun Rao couldn't help raising her voice slightly, "Why so long?" She then realized she had overstepped, gently lowering her tone, "You never mentioned you'd be staying here for this long when you first came." "My lord hasn't invited you, so you've been persistent in following us," Unchang interjected, his voice tinged with slight disdain. "But…" She bit her lower lip, trying to object, yet Unchang’s words seemed entirely reasonable. "Well, then, let's just forget it." "Feeling deeply regretful, Yun Rao raised her head and said her goodbyes to An Ziyuan, "I shall go ahead now. The life-saving grace you showed me just now will surely be repaid by me in the future." As she turned her horse to leave, she spoke. "Wait!" An Ziyuan interrupted, cool and composed. "Is there anything else, Your Grace?" Yun Rao turned back to ask. "Leave the Qilin bracelet here!" An Ziyuan turned back to her, his voice calm and gentle. "No way!" Yun Rao's voice was unusually firm. "I cannot return it to you now!" "Then where will you go to find it when you don't return it? If you're killed on the way, to whom will my lord turn to ask for the Qilin bracelet?" Wu Chang rolled his eyes. "I—," Yun Rao suddenly felt as though she had just thrown a stone at her own feet. She had intended to be kind and patient, but now that the medicine hadn't been stolen and she had been stuck here in this remote mountain village for years, it felt more like a waste of time. He had the patience to wait for her, but she simply couldn "An gentleman, with your capabilities, even if I were buried beneath the Yellow Springs, you could dig three feet deep and still find me. So you needn’t worry at all about losing your things." "What good would it do to dig three feet deep to pull you out then?" An Ziyuan’s clear gaze swept over Wu Chang, and before he could speak, Yun Rao already sensed his intention to summon Wu Chang. She didn’t bother with formalities, subtly channeling her inner energy, and with a graceful leap off the horse’s saddle, she rose with elegant ease. "An gentleman, I’ll see you again!" she said lightly, then, as she exerted herself to step away, suddenly felt a tightness at her waist—there, a white silk ribbon had been wrapped around her without her noticing. She hadn’t even time to react and cut the ribbon, and before she could regain her balance, the force transmitted through the ribbon pulled her back and sent her tumbling to the ground. With a soft thud, she landed rather ungracefully. "Wu Chang, treat Cloud Miss well. Let her go whenever she hands over the Qilin bracelet." "With a calm voice, she delivered her instructions to Wuxiang, then handed the spirited horse to the steward who had come out to meet her, and turned to walk toward the Yaya Pavilion. 'An Ziyuan, I will shatter the Qilin ring!' Yun Rao shouted urgently. 'If you can manage to shatter it, that would indeed be a good thing,' An Ziyuan replied, speaking as he walked, without turning to look at her. 'Even if I can't shatter it, I can still have others use it to stir up trouble!' 'Wuxiang, issue the orders: until the Qilin ring is surrendered, no one shall approach Miss Yun. Any bird or beast passing through her courtyard shall be shot down!' An Ziyuan spoke calmly, and his graceful figure had already vanished from the main gate. ********* Excellent—she's been confined! For three consecutive days, Yun Rao has been locked in the pavilion arranged by An Ziyuan, unable to leave. Aside from the maids who occasionally brought meals and the Xuanyi guards stationed at multiple layers both inside and outside, she hasn't seen a single sight of An Ziyuan or Wuxiang. Negotiating with a tiger for its skin has always carried risk—she never expected An Zi yuan to play this move, one that would wear her down over time. Here, there's no lack of food or clothing, and she needn't fear being killed the moment she lies down. The only drawback is the lack of freedom. She didn't know how An Zi yuan had sensed that she could not endure this prolonged wait—whether it was because she repeatedly refused his pulse-taking, which had revealed something amiss, or for some other reason she couldn't quite grasp. But she needed to leave! Yun Rao was furious, about to give a sharp拍 on the table, yet the young attendant barely raised an eyebrow, merely glinting and retreating gracefully. Yun Rao, however, could no longer sit still—he deliberately wore her patience down, pushing her to willingly return the Qilin ring to him. Pushing open the door, he was about to rush out, only to be blocked by the officers in dark robes. "Madam," one of them said, "the young lord has instructed that you rest well here." Yun Rao coldly glanced at the ones holding her back, then subtly summoned inner strength, rising like a breeze—only to be knocked down before reaching the eaves, "thud" landing on the ground, her chest aching anew, and a steady stream of blood spilling from her mouth. The leading officer noticed something was amiss and immediately dispatched someone to inform An Ziyuan.