Mu Qingyao recalled Master Kong, who had been infatuated with love his entire life, only to meet a tragic end. Since he had entered the Buddhist sect, he should have been detached from the mortal world, so why did he still become entangled and unable to let go?
"Good, so Yuejue Temple indeed harbors a group of assassins. Then, who cultivated this group of assassins?"
Emperor Xian's eyes shot out piercing cold glints, following Mu Qingyao's gaze towards the sky above the deep mountains.
In truth, both of them knew the situation clearly, but it was precisely because they knew that their hearts felt even more cold. Sometimes, the imperial throne was more important than familial bonds. Perhaps, being born into royalty meant losing this basic affection.
"Your Majesty, Consort, please have some water." Mo Chou's voice rang out. She held a water pouch, which she had found from this peasant's home.
Mu Qingyao turned her head to look at the small courtyard where she had been imprisoned. This family had no residents; it was merely an empty courtyard. The two women from yesterday were from this estate.
If she spoke now, the Emperor might order a search of the estate, perhaps even leading to bloodshed. Therefore, she did not want to disrupt the tranquility of this village.
Mu Qingyao took it and handed it to Murong Liuzun beside her. "Your Majesty, have some. We'll leave here shortly. Don't disturb them; it's not easy for them to live here."
Murong Liuzun took the water pouch and drank a few mouthfuls. Having not rested all night, he did not seem tired; on the contrary, he was full of spirit.
With his divine power protecting him, this bit of fatigue was nothing to him. It was Mu Qingyao, however, who, having lost her inner strength, appeared extremely exhausted, her face pale.
"Mm."
After a brief rest, all except for a few imperial guards who remained got up and crossed this thorny mountain ridge, returning to the foot of Yuejue Temple's mountain and following the original route back to the palace.
They had arrived with over a hundred people, but they were leaving with only forty to fifty.
Furthermore, the Prince of Nan'an was injured. It was only after exiting the dense forest that everyone discovered this. He had remained silent throughout, composed and self-possessed, and this unyielding, rigid character greatly impressed Mu Qingyao.
"Imperial Brother, are you alright?"
Murong Liuzun inquired with concern. The Prince of Nan'an calmly shook his head. It was getting late, and to avoid any further accidents, they had to return to the palace as quickly as possible.
"Your Majesty, please board the carriage. This subject is unharmed. Let us return to the palace as soon as possible."
The Prince of Nan'an spoke respectfully. Murong Liuzun understood his current anxieties.
Everyone was now very tired, and many among them were injured. If another group were to appear now, the Emperor might be in danger, which was why he was so eager to rush back to the palace.
"Alright, let's return to the palace."
With the Emperor's command, some boarded carriages, while others mounted horses. The group majestically departed Xianghua Mountain and headed back to the imperial palace.
The North Jin Royal Mansion was now in utter silence.
In the side room, a chilling cold permeated the air, a silence as deep as death. The person on the large bed had an even paler and more ghastly face, and a pair of dark eyes flashed with apocalyptic ferocity.
"What? You say it failed? Why didn't you send more men?"
"Your Highness, we have suffered heavy losses this time. Not a single one of the more than two hundred assassins sent out survived; all were killed."
Steward Ning clutched his heart, his pain evident. These assassins represented over ten years of his effort. Half of them were lost in one night, and now only half remained. How could he not be heartbroken?
However, looking at the enraged Prince, he dared not say another word, fearing he might do something rash.
"What? Half the assassins lost?" Murong Liumo's pale face contorted in ferocity. That man's methods were truly formidable. Although he had always known he was highly skilled in martial arts, they had never had a direct confrontation. He never expected him to be so powerful that he could so easily kill over two hundred assassins.
"Not a single survivor?"
"No," Steward Ning reported heartbrokenly. Assassins were trained to fight until death and never return if they failed their mission.
While the Prince of North Jin was pained, he thought of another matter. "I fear Yuejue Temple has been exposed. Have you withdrawn those people?"
"Only half the people were at Yuejue Temple; the other half are elsewhere. Your Highness, rest assured, that place is very hidden; ordinary people cannot find it. What about the old monk at Yuejue Temple?"
A sinister glint flashed in Steward Ning's eyes.
He feared the old monk might cause trouble. He knew about their actions from beginning to end. If the Emperor became suspicious and captured him, the old monk, unable to withstand torture, might reveal everything. Steward Ning spoke with worry.
The Prince of North Jin, Murong Liumo, pulled at the corner of his lips, a cold, bloodthirsty sneer.
"You don't need to worry about that. I warned him long ago. If anything unexpected happens and he dares to mention me, not a single member of his Su family will survive. I believe he wouldn't dare speak carelessly."
"Mm, that's good."
Steward Ning's heart was put at ease. He glanced at the man on the bed and respectfully said, "Your Highness, your subordinate shall take his leave."
"Do not make any further moves in the next few days. My wedding is in ten days. Please ensure the wedding preparations are handled well."
"Yes, your subordinate accepts the order." Steward Ning retreated.
In the side room, the Prince of North Jin's face was grim. He sighed, his heart unable to conceal a deep sense of loss.
He had not expected to be outmaneuvered. Even so, he knew that man was too formidable. In the future, their actions would need to be more thorough and secure. He rolled over and lay on the bed, closing his eyes to rest.
The Imperial Palace.
The Emperor personally escorted Mu Qingyao to the gate of Fengluan Palace and sternly commanded Mo Chou, "Attend to the Consort well."
Turning back to face Mu Qingyao, his expression became much gentler, his concern evident in his words and actions. "Yao'er, go back and rest for a while. I need to handle matters concerning Yuejue Temple. I will come to see you later and see if I can help you recover your inner strength."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Mu Qingyao's voice held a soft tone, different from her usual indifference.
Last night, when he had rushed into the mountains to save her without hesitation, she could no longer maintain her previous detachment. It was as if a part of her heart had inexplicably softened. Though it was not love, she no longer rejected his advances.
"Consort, let's go."
Mo Chou helped her alight from the imperial carriage. Mo You followed behind, carrying Mao Xueqiu. The group entered Fengluan Palace, never imagining that a mere incense offering would lead to such a great upheaval.
Within the vast Fengluan Palace, Meixin, Yiyun, and others led palace maids and eunuchs rushing forward. Upon seeing the Consort had finally returned, half of them burst into tears.
"Consort, you didn't return yesterday; your servants were terrified."
Meixin wept the loudest. Having stayed up all night, her eyes were red. Seeing Mu Qingyao now, she felt exceptionally wronged. Yesterday, Mo Chou had come to pick up Mao Xueqiu and briefly informed her that the Consort had been kidnapped. Meixin had been terrified and cried incessantly, with Yiyun and the others shedding tears alongside her.