“Ah…!” The swift galloping horse suddenly snorted as it encountered the woman kneeling on one knee by the roadside. Her legs bent slightly, and both hooves lifted high in mid-air—just barely avoided a dramatic collision thanks to Su Yan’s timely grip on the reins, pulling the horse gently aside. Yun Rao pressed her right hand against her left chest, one knee braced firmly on the ground. She raised her head slightly, watching the two towering hooves rise before her, her face veiled by the delicate silk scarf. Though her expression remained calm, her eyes—lustrous and full of dew—wavered with alarm. She stared wide-eyed at the approaching horse’s feet as though they were charging straight toward her. Without realizing it, she tightened her hand on her chest, nearly ready to leap up—and yet, she held firm, resisting until the horses finally veered aside, grazing only her veil and narrowly missing her face. Only then did she slowly release her grip, breathing out a long sigh of relief. Though it was deep winter, moisture now clung to the back of her robe. “Miss?” Su Yan dismounted, his brows furrowed as he approached the seemingly startled Yun Rao, his sturdy and composed demeanor now softened with concern. “Are you all right?” Yun Rao studied the unguarded intensity in his steady gaze—the earnestness of a man who never expected to be caught off guard—her eyes briefly lingering with quiet surprise. After all, as the head of the most influential intelligence network across the realm, she was accustomed to commanding others with grace and composure. How could someone so grounded and reliable, so completely unguarded, not fall under her watchful eye? Before he could offer more, Su Yan had already reached her side and knelt at her level, his brows knit in inquiry. “Miss?” The simplicity of his demeanor made her feel a little uneasy. With an inner effort to suppress the rising tide of emotion, Yun Rao slowly lifted her gaze—her eyes glistened with tears that slipped gently across her lashes, blending into the softness of her gaze. The delicate veil fluttered as she raised her head, and then slipped slightly from her face, revealing a face so radiant it seemed as though it had been born to enchant every man who beheld it. Even though Su Yan had seen countless women throughout his travels, this moment made him momentarily still—his mind drifting in quiet wonder. As Yun Rao watched the clear black depth of his eyes slowly begin to blur with dazed wonder, she timed her movement precisely and gently waved her hand. When Su Yan regained awareness, it was too late—the white powder had already been drawn into his lungs. His once sharp gaze now wavered, growing hazy and distant—though within that haze, a flicker of clarity remained. He did not fall, yet his consciousness drifted like mist caught in the wind. Yun Rao knew the faintly diffused effect of the *mêng hún xiāng* (soul-entrancing fragrance) had not fully silenced him—only temporarily subdued his awareness. She could see the struggle deep within his eyes, the effort to remain alert despite the softness of the dose. And she understood: he was holding on, fighting against her gentle medicine. Since leaving the valley over a year ago, Yun Rao had learned well how powerful such beauty could be—men everywhere were drawn not only by appearance but by mere glances, often forgetting their own intentions and losing vigilance simply because of a woman’s grace. Usually, she rarely revealed her true face, for while her natural beauty helped her command attention, it also made her more visible and vulnerable—easier to track, easier to target. Thus, most of the time, she traveled in disguise, with a plain countenance that smoothed over many obstacles. Only in special circumstances did she choose to let her true charm unfold—and today was such a moment. She had always understood the art of balancing strengths and weaknesses from an early age—born with this very “fate-bringer” appearance. As long as she didn’t harm anyone, it was wise simply to use her beauty occasionally, like a well-timed brushstroke that enhanced rather than overwhelmed the scene. With a light pat on her hands, Yun Rao rose smoothly and gently adjusted the veil over her face before stepping forward toward Su Yan, her gaze fixed upon his now hazy eyes. “Su Lord, I apologize!” Before he could react, she had already swiftly sealed his vital points—though this new medicine was milder than the one used a month ago, and though its effects were less intense, she decided to remain cautious and secure. She didn’t want any unforeseen complications. As she thought it over, her hands naturally slipped beneath his robe, gently exploring his chest, searching for something hidden there. Su Yan’s face flushed with embarrassment—the steady gaze of the woman now fixed upon him made him feel both vulnerable and unsteady. His lips parted as he managed to murmur, “Wait—stop!” Yun Rao tilted her head slightly, glanced at him once with a smile that hinted at quiet amusement. “No need to be so urgent,” she replied. “Just a little longer, and I’ll see you’re fine.” Her fingers continued to search through the folds of his robe until they found something firm—pressing gently against the fabric, then carefully drew out a beautifully folded invitation from beneath. She unfolded it swiftly, scanned its contents with a satisfied expression, then sealed it neatly before releasing Su Yan’s vital points and administered the counter-medicine. As he reached for her hand to thank her, she lightly leapt over the branches and moved with the grace of a dancer. “Su Lord,” she said, holding out the invitation, “I’ll take this one—won’t give you any trouble.” With that, she was already gone, like a breath of wind, reaching the Yong’an Inn in the capital before sunset. “Back? I thought you’d be lost somewhere beyond the valley, and we were just about to go out to collect your remains!” Curly Xiao Man immediately pounced as soon as they entered her room, stretching her jade belt wide and wrapping it around Yun Rao’s shoulders, gently pulling her into a full circle. She then offered a gentle pulse check—only after confirming that Yun Rao was unharmed did she release her, still murmuring under her breath with growing satisfaction. Yun Rao laughed brightly at the interruption, indifferent to the mild rebuke. From her sleeve, she drew forth the red invitation, waving it between her fingers. “I’ll personally go to Yu’s manor in two days.” “No way!” “No way!” The words echoed simultaneously as both hands darted toward the invitation, only to be skillfully pushed back by Yun Rao—just in time to avoid being grasped. Due to the multiple bursts of internal energy today and her hurried movements during the escape, a surge of blood surged through her chest—the sharp pain flared violently from within. Her brows furrowed as a faint taste of copper rose at the back of her throat, slowly spreading along her lips before spilling down. “Yun Rao!” “Yun Rao!” Two voices erupted in urgency as both figures swiftly approached—one holding her steady while the other gently lifted her hand to take her pulse—but Yun Rao pulled her arms tight into her chest, almost pressing them into the fabric, refusing to let go. With a deep breath and effort, she slowly pushed herself up from the bed, hands resting over her chest as she sat upright. Her forehead was slick with sweat—her breathing had grown heavier, deeper, more urgent than before. She pressed her fingers into her hair, gently holding her head in place as the tremors subsided. It took several minutes for her breath to even out—the once hazy eyes now clear and steady again. Without realizing it, she glanced toward the outer screen where Xiao Man lay sleeping. Taking a deep, deliberate swallow, Yun Rao eased herself from beneath the covers, donned her outer robe, and stepped over the screen, glancing gently at the still-sleeping girl. “Forgive me,” she whispered softly, tucking her lips slightly, then quietly closed the door behind her.