Chapter 284: Volume 1 Chapter 284 Empress x Courtesan (14)

He couldn't let her think too much; the man hoisted her onto his back and shot into the air, fighting his way through layers of surveillance zones, using the deployed spies as cover, and left the Imperial Palace.

Along the way, not knowing how long they had walked, Jiang Zhi lay on his back and gradually fell asleep.

When she woke up, a day and night had already passed.

Before her eyes was darkness; she could faintly sense the light outside, her wounds had been treated, but all her inner power was gone—from then on she was no longer the battle-hardened Empress, but a crippled weakling unable to wield martial arts.

She slowly sat up, got off the bed, and walked unsteadily; before she could take two steps, her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the cold, hard floor.

The commotion inside attracted Yan Yao outside; he pushed the door open and strode in, and upon seeing the person fallen on the ground, he reached out to help her up.

Jiang Zhi broke down and shoved his hand away.

Yan Yao held her struggling body, his eyes undisguised with possessive desire, his tone as usual calm and gentle.

"Ah Zhi, I will go find a divine doctor to cure you."

Jiang Zhi gave a self-mocking laugh.

She clenched a corner of his robe, her fingers writing on his palm pleadingly:

"Kill me, Yan Yao, please kill me."

Once lofty and proud, the Empress now became listless and desperate, like a stagnant pool devoid of life.

Yan Yao sensed her mood was off, raised his hand and knocked her unconscious.

Black silk coiled between his fingers, her lip color pallid verging on blue.

He laid her on the bed, his distinct knuckles gently stroking the corner of her eye with utmost tenderness.

"Ah Zhi, I went to great lengths to obtain you—how could I kill you again?"

Having spoken, he left the room.

Outside, his subordinates waited.

"Continue," Yan Yao said,

The subordinate continued his unfinished words: "Sir, I have investigated the origins of the young servant Wen Wu Huan; his true name is Wen Ci, originally the sole heir of the Boundary Dark Tribe chieftain, and after the tribe's extermination he has been hiding in the Pine Bamboo Tower."

Wen Ci?

The Wen surname was already unusual, but no one expected him to be the young master of the Boundary Dark Tribe; Yan Yao recalled that the tribe's members also bore the Wen surname.

The subordinate said: "Most of the hidden posts in the Imperial Palace have been wiped out by them; the remaining one or two have not yet been contacted—this is the last news coming from the palace."

Saying this, he handed the slip of paper to Yan Yao.

Yan Yao took it, glanced over, pondered a moment, and ordered: "Withdraw immediately."

After a day and night, the palace discovered that Jiang Zhi had escaped from prison; Wen Ci would not let her go so easily, and actually dispatched Swift Wind agents to search for her.

The Boundary Dark Tribe's assassins are divided into five classes; those who have reached the Swift Wind level possess unmatched lightness, capable of covering a thousand miles a day with astonishing speed, and combined with various intelligence, they will soon locate this place.

…

Imperial Palace.

Lying on his side on the bed, Wen Ci's sickly pallid face was gloomy and cold, his narrow eyes slightly hooked, giving off an aura as terrifying as a ghost.

"Trash, can't even find a single guard?"

The agents kneeling in a row dared not breathe, trembling as they begged for forgiveness.

The Old Poison Whip at the bedside hurriedly said: "Young master, your qi and blood are deficient; you must not move at all."

Wen Ci's consciousness had not fully recovered; he forced himself awake, opened his eyes, sat up, and said softly: "Even if we have to dig three feet underground, we must find her."

"Subordinate obeys."

The agents vanished instantly from their spot.

The Old Poison Whip handed him a bowl of broth: "Drink some medicine first."

Wen Ci's mind was muddled, scattered chaotic memories and faces surfacing.

One moment it was the domineering, ruthless Empress; the next, the guard who taught him swordsmanship.

"Young master, young master…" receiving no reply, the youth fainted again.

…

Traveling in a carriage through pitch‑black night, the late wind carried bouts of chill; at some point goose‑feather snow began to fall, piling on the roof and blanketing it in thick white snow, while the slope beside the carriage was barren and desolate, without a glimmer of light.

Inside the carriage, the awakened Jiang Zhi had her limbs tightly bound; the carriage jolted, shaking her whole body, her stomach churning incessantly—though she had barely eaten, she retched, but nothing came up.

Adding to her blindness and muteness, she felt ever more miserable.

"Where is Yan Yao taking me?"

She still couldn't fathom the thoughts of the male lead Yan Yao.

In the story he has few scenes, loyal to the original owner, and his ending is also death in that palace coup.

But now he not only survived, he is trying every means to rescue her.

777 had no time to speak—the carriage curtain was lifted from outside, the wind‑blocking wooden door was pushed open, a blast of cold wind poured in, and soon the door shut, sealing out the howling night wind.

"Ah Zhi."

It was Yan Yao's voice.

Jiang Zhi heard the voice, was about to act as the original owner, when Yan Yao suddenly exposed:

"You are not Ah Zhi."

Jiang Zhi had already guessed he knew she wasn't the original owner, but she didn't expect him to reveal it just then.

Yan Yao grasped her cold hand, his breath warm.

"You needn't fear; I will not harm you."

Jiang Zhi stiffly withdrew her finger, then immediately wrote on his palm:

"Then why did you save me?"

She is not the original host who grew up with him, nor the empress he has always been loyal to; why would he risk so much to save her from the dungeon?

Yan Yao's voice sounded like thawing icy snow on a high mountain—clear, cold, and gentle.

"I like you."

Outside the carriage, the snow grew heavier; the north wind whistled, temperatures plunged with the onset of winter, and icy gusts repeatedly beat against the wooden window.

Jiang Zhi had a headache.

How could a perfectly loyal hound turn out like this?

Jiang Zhi suddenly recalled that before the female lead, Leng Qianyan, rebelled, he came to the palace to tell her, and after leaving, never returned to the palace.

Finally, he came again to the dungeon to rescue her—this all seemed too deliberately coincidental.

The only flaw is how Leng Qianyan could have entered the imperial palace so smoothly?

"So, Yan Yao has long been collaborating with the female lead just to overthrow me?"

Thinking this through, Jiang Zhi's brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

She simply couldn't figure out where the problem had arisen.

Even though she had become the original host, she rarely came into contact with Yan Yao, except when discussing state affairs in the court and the imperial study; she tried to avoid deep contact with anyone other than the villain.

In front of Yan Yao, she earnestly played the role of the original host, never overstepping.

So, why does he like her?

"Brother Seven, did Yan Yao ever like the original host in the plot?"

Besides this, she could think of no other possibility.

777: "There is none; the male supporting character has no romantic feelings toward the original host."

It paused for a few seconds, somewhat hesitant to speak, then said, "However, I have detected fragments of a villain's soul within Yan Yao's body."

Jiang Zhi: "?"

Damn, no wonder.

She delayed her response, and Yan Yao's face gradually darkened before her, his voice as calm as usual.

"Do you despise me?"

Jiang Zhi thought for a moment, then found a more tactful way to refuse: "I only see you as a brother."

"Brother?" A hint of coldness slipped from Yan Yao's mouth.