Chapter One: The Handing Over of Life and Death (Part One)

At the top of the grand vermilion gate hung a massive ebony plaque, the gold inlays glimmering beneath the sun, upon which four bold characters were inscribed in a majestic hand: Western Guard Prince’s Residence.

Within, the manor’s architecture was refined, pavilions and towers interlaced, yet curiously bereft of places for admiring flowers. At this moment, a married couple strolled leisurely through the grounds.

The man was upright as an ancient pine, eyes bright as the stars beneath his sword-like brows, his aura impossible to conceal even when he tried. Beside him, the woman’s appearance was not remarkable, perhaps just above average, but her belly was pronounced, heavy with child and ready to deliver at any moment.

The man halted abruptly, furrowing his brows in concern. “Military affairs have kept me busy lately, and I haven’t been able to care for you as much as I’d like. Now that trouble is brewing in the west again, I may be called to lead troops to the front at any time. I fear...”

The woman laughed, teasing him. “Oh, don’t worry about me, I’m quite grown up. I can look after myself!”

Yet her tone shifted, her smile fading. “But it’s you I worry about. The court’s attitude toward you becomes more mysterious every day. Who knows what orders they’ll issue next?”

He moved closer, resting his hands gently on her shoulders, his gaze resolute. “Trust me. Even at the cost of my life, I’ll protect you and our child.”

Feeling his warmth, she lifted her eyes, brimming with affection as she said, voice trembling, “Qing, say no more. Yunianci died in the northern desert years ago. Now, only one woman remains in the Western Guard Prince’s Residence—Yu Qingyi.”

Unable to contain their emotions, the two embraced tightly. Yet mindful of Yu Nian’s pregnancy, Su Qing held her gently, savoring the stirring of their hearts.

They remained entwined for a long while before slowly parting, the woman’s cheeks flushed with eight shades of bashfulness. Suddenly, she raised her right hand to her left ear as if to peel something away.

In front of Su Qing, a stunningly beautiful face was revealed. Yunianci’s mysterious, lively eyes were half-closed, her long lashes quivering.

She rolled her eyes at Su Qing. “Wearing this mask every day, I worry you’ll forget my real face.”

Su Qing affectionately tapped her delicate nose. “Look at you! Still so stubborn at your age. Your identity is sensitive right now, especially with the baby.”

Yunianci nestled into Su Qing’s arms, her voice soft as silk. “Qing, wouldn’t it be wonderful if time could stop at this moment?”

Su Qing gently stroked her smooth back. “It will, once the western conflict ends. I’ll shed my armor, retire from the prince’s post, and we’ll live as a family of three, peacefully hidden in a paradise.”

……

“Hey, go see if that kid’s dead yet,” a middle-aged man with a stubbled face said carelessly to several burly youths ahead.

“Boss, that kid can’t take a beating, he’s barely alive,” one replied.

“Keep him alive—times are tense. If he dies and someone investigates, even my connections won’t save me,” the stubbled man said impatiently.

“Don’t worry, boss, we’ll keep him barely breathing. He dared to steal the woman you wanted; he deserves worse. Isn’t that right?” a shifty-eyed man said obsequiously.

Half an hour later, sleet began to fall, thunder and lightning cracking overhead as a figure crawled slowly across the ground.

His hand stretched out painfully, gripping a business card.

“Su Bai, once passionate and responsible, hopes he won’t lose his way.”

The elegant handwriting swept him back to that youthful, spirited era—an age now distant and unreachable…

Tears of humiliation mixed with rain and sleet, falling to the earth. He could not fathom why fate tormented him so, why a simple life was denied him.

The merciless storm battered his wounds, intensifying the pain, but he still struggled to reach the other side.

Twisting in the mud, he resembled a worm crawling desperately, yet at last his eyes widened, unwillingly swallowing his final breath.

Suddenly, lightning struck Su Bai squarely, leaving no trace.

Three days later, at the police station’s press conference.

“Su Bai, age twenty-six, raised in St. Aya Orphanage, exhibits strong antisocial traits. Police investigations confirm: Su Bai first attacked Guo Luo with a sharp weapon, but failed. Guo Luo dodged and seized the weapon. Yet Su Bai persisted, attempting further assault; Guo Luo stabbed him by accident, an act of legitimate self-defense.”

Within the station, a portly officer lounged with crossed legs, glancing sternly at the stubbled man before him. “This time, I covered for you. If that kid had any background or power, I couldn’t explain it away.”

The stubbled man, Guo Luo, grinned nervously. “Yes, thank goodness for you, boss. If not, I’d be dead by now.”

Yet Guo Yu, his brother, spoke with suspicion. “Something’s odd. I went to your crime scene—there was no corpse. The investigative team also concluded Su Bai died there.”

“Who cares? Maybe wild dogs dragged him off. Let’s not dwell on unpleasant things.” Suddenly, Guo Luo smirked wickedly at Guo Yu. “Hey, boss. Isn’t your wife on a business trip these days?”

“Yes. What are you up to?” Guo Yu eyed him warily. His brother never brought peace; he’d often doubted if they were truly related. Still, Guo Luo had his uses, handling matters Guo Yu couldn’t address directly. That was why he kept him around.

Guo Luo pressed on, “Boss, your wife’s over forty now. Don’t you want to try something new?” He gave a knowing look.

“There’s nothing worthwhile, just the usual dull crowd. I’m bored of it all. If you’ve nothing else, leave—I don’t want you hanging about,” Guo Yu said impatiently.

“Don’t! I finally found a chance to impress you.” Guo Luo persisted. “I spotted a gorgeous girl recently—already in my trap. That dead kid ruined it, but don’t worry, as long as you give the order, I’ll handle her legally, and have her obedient in your bed.”

“You brat! Hmph. At least you’re useful.”

Hearing this, Guo Luo’s anxiety faded at last.

A month later

The usually tranquil gate of the Su Residence resounded with argument.

“How many times must I say it? I’m buying clothes for my unborn child. Can’t you men keep your distance? It’s been days—nothing’s happened. Please, I know you’re just doing your job. If you don’t report it, Master won’t find out,” Yunianci complained impatiently to the twenty guards around her.

For months, these men had shadowed her, especially in the last two, providing relentless, all-round protection. Each was hand-picked from the army, assigned to safeguard Yunianci.

But they weren’t Su Qing’s orders; rather, Yang Tingyu, one of Su Qing’s deputy generals, had sent them. Yang had served Su Qing for years, earning his utmost trust, though his martial talent was mediocre—only recently, after thirty years, had he achieved focus.

Now, the lead guard replied helplessly, “Madam, it’s not that we wish to trouble you, but orders are orders. Please allow us to follow; it’s for our duty.”

Yunianci’s eyes flashed slyly. “Did your superior specify how many should accompany me each time?”

“Well…no, he didn’t mention that,” the guard stammered.

“Then that settles it! It’s hot, you’re all tired. Why not rest somewhere cool, have a drink, enjoy some music? Why chase a pregnant woman around?” She signaled her maid.

The maid, understanding, drew two banknotes from her purse and pressed them into the guard’s hand. “Madam asks you to rest well. She’ll speak kindly of you to Master.”

The guards could not refuse Yunianci’s gesture, accepting the banknotes. Still, the lead guard worried, pulling a short firecracker-like device from his pocket, handing it to Yunianci. “Well…all right. We’ll wait nearby at the Whisper Inn. If anything happens, just set off this signal, and we’ll come at once.”

Yunianci was delighted by their agreement, instructing her maid, “Thank you, Xiaozhao, take it.”

Xiaozhao accepted, showing a hint of unease that she quickly concealed.

With the guards watching, Yunianci stepped briskly into the sedan chair. Xiaozhao followed, their low voices drifting from within.

Yunianci, tenderly caressing her swelling belly, turned to Xiaozhao. “Xiaozhao, what do you think I should name the child?”

Xiaozhao hesitated, lowering the curtain, replying with a laugh, “That’s not for a servant to decide. Madam, your talent far surpasses most scholars—even the top scholar would envy you. How could I presume to name the young master?”

“You’re too modest. You’ve served the Su Residence for ten years; I’ve been here barely four or five. You’re just as qualified! Give me some suggestions. These sights we see daily, there’s nothing new,” Yunianci said, her expression so plaintive even women struggled to resist her pleading.

“Well…since you insist, I’ll toss out an idea. Perhaps…Su Sheng?”

“Su Sheng? Not bad, but it feels lacking,” Yunianci mused, repeating prospective names, none quite satisfying her.

As they passed Qinghua Road, a sudden whistling filled the air, and arrows shot from every direction, piercing the sedan until it resembled a honeycomb.

“Dead? Did we attack the wrong target?” whispered a disguised archer on the rooftop.

Another voice dismissed the doubt. “Impossible! The information came from Cat Qi—her intel’s never wrong.”

The first archer grumbled, “I’m just saying, who knows if she slipped up this time?”

“Hey, look!” A sharp-eyed assassin saw movement in the sedan, lowering his voice to alert the others.

They watched as the sedan trembled. As confusion grew, the wooden chair exploded apart, and arrows fired outwards in all directions, striking many fleeing pedestrians. But most shocking of all was the smooth, rotating iron sphere emerging from the wreckage.

“What is that?”

“I’ve never heard of the Great Yan Sect inventing such a contraption. Retreat at once—don’t let that demoness catch us!” Injured and terrified, the group fled.

A chilling voice echoed from within the steel sphere, as if whispering from their very ears, “Since you’ve witnessed my methods today, don’t be in a hurry to leave.”

“Remember: don’t let yourselves be taken alive.” The leader emphasized “taken alive,” his gaze resolute.

He drew his saber and charged straight at Yunianci.

“Han Geng, the Embroidered Guards fancy themselves clever, but all their schemes are known by others. Ha ha ha…” The steel sphere shrank, coalescing into a small orb and landing precisely in her jade-like hand.

Yunianci stepped forward gracefully, unhurried, approaching Han Geng without concern for his blade.

“Don’t you think the Embroidered Guards sent you here just to die?” Yunianci mused suddenly.

Han Geng halted, his voice hoarse and trembling, “No… impossible! Absolutely not!”

Yunianci crossed her arms, smiling playfully. “At first I hadn’t considered it, but Hua Wenkai could certainly do such a thing. I wonder what you did to offend him so deeply, for him to go to such lengths.”

Her laughter ceased abruptly. As she raised her head, the iron sphere transformed into dozens of flying knives.

“I don’t really care—killing you or sparing you makes little difference. But are you truly content to be a pawn thrown away?” she coaxed, not striking immediately.

“Han Geng, why not take a step back? If you help me indict Hua Wenkai in court, I promise you wealth and honor. Your mother, ill for years, I will protect her—no harm will come to her. Think carefully.”

Han Geng’s brows knitted, torn between loyalty to his superior and the facts before him.

The Embroidered Guards, infamous for their ruthlessness and decisiveness, now found themselves unable to act.