Chapter 395: Chapter 395: Not Princess Qing, but Yin Huan’s Friend

The man glanced at Yin Huan and sneered. “Who would’ve thought she’d actually be useful for something.”

The lives of mere commoners were never his concern.

The haze in Song Lianhe’s eyes seemed to finally find a focus. She slowly got to her feet, tilting her head back to look at him, and asked, word by word, “Was it you who killed her?”

The man’s lips curled in disdain. “So what if I was?”

Song Lianhe lowered her head and suddenly smiled. “Wonderful.”

The man froze. “You said… ’wonderful’?”

“Yes.” Song Lianhe looked at him, her eyes growing cold. “To be able to avenge Yin Huan so soon… It really is… wonderful.”

As if he’d heard a joke, the man on the horse laughed flippantly. “We’ve reached this point, and you really think your title as Princess Qing can save your life?”

Song Lianhe approached him. The group of men in black below started to move forward, but the man arrogantly raised a hand.

’She’s just a frail woman. I’d like to see just how she plans to get this revenge of hers!’

“Not as Princess Qing, but as Yin Huan’s friend.” Song Lianhe was now before the horse. She looked at the tall, armored steed, then at the man seated high above. She raised her hand, aimed for the horse’s neck, and struck!

The horse let out a piercing whinny, its body buckled, and it collapsed. Caught off guard, the man scrambled off in an ungraceful leap.

The horse lay on the ground, paralyzed.

Ah Jun was an expert at Taming Horses and had long ago taught Song Lianhe exactly which points on a horse to strike to paralyze it instantly, leaving it unable to resist.

The man stared in disbelief as his beloved steed lay on the ground, panting heavily, its four legs twitching. He was instantly enraged. “I, the Princely Heir, will kill you!”

’If he dares call himself that, doesn’t that make him the Princely Heir of Nanchen?’

’It doesn’t matter, though. Whoever he is, he’ll be a dead man soon enough.’

“Weren’t you going to kill me? I’m right here. Come on!” Song Lianhe spread her arms, her face a mask of mockery. “Or are you so useless that you need others to kill a woman for you?”

Enraged, Yan Shaji drew his sword, but his men held him back.

“Princely Heir, there’s something strange about this woman!”

“Get out of my way!”

As the eldest son of Prince Xin, Yan Shaji was extremely arrogant. He was already filled with resentment that he hadn’t been allowed to lead the troops in this challenge—that role had instead been given to a bastard born of a lowly maid. Now, even a woman dared to look down on him. How could he tolerate it?

“All of you, stand down!”

Yan Shaji was a cruel master, and none of his men dared to disobey. They all retreated and did not step forward again.

He narrowed his eyes and brought his sword down on Song Lianhe—

Song Lianhe suddenly flicked her wrist, throwing something at him while simultaneously circling behind the horse.

Yan Shaji paid no mind to an attack from a mere woman. His sword didn’t falter, continuing its straight downward arc. But as he prepared to turn for another thrust, a sharp pain flared on the back of his hand. He looked down and saw something crawling up his arm.

By the time he tried to get a clearer look, his body had gone completely stiff. His gaze froze, and his eyes began to fill with blood vessels until they were entirely red.

He let out a strangled roar, the sword CLANGED to the ground, and he pitched forward, stiff as a board.

Moments later, a small blue snake slowly emerged from his neck.

“Princely Heir!”

“Princely Heir!”

The accompanying guards rushed forward to check. When they found he was no longer breathing, their faces drained of color in horror.

“Seize her!”

Song Lianhe caught Little Lan as it crawled back to her, giving it a smile.

“Thanks.”

Song Lianhe’s only thought was to avenge Yin Huan. Now, she feared nothing. Even if she were to die on the spot, it would be worth it!

She stepped out, shielding Yin Huan’s body with her own.

Little Lan crawled onto her shoulder, coiling its body and raising its head.

At the same time, a cry split the air. Chun Hua dove steeply, its massive wings whipping up a fierce wind that drove the men back several paces.

Song Lianhe raised her arm, and Chun Hua landed steadily on her forearm.

The image of the woman, the falcon, and the snake was truly a bizarre one.

Although they had all just witnessed her “Evil Technique,” the Princely Heir was dead. If they failed to capture her, they would be facing death themselves, sooner or later.

And so, the guards charged again. “Take her! Avenge the Princely Heir!”

Chun Hua was the first to act, taking flight and diving to peck at the nearest man’s eyes—

Not to be outdone, Little Lan struck at anyone who dared get near Song Lianhe. It usually seemed lethargic, but now it moved so fast it was little more than a blur.

Though Song Lianhe was skilled with poisons, her movements and fighting techniques were no match for this group. Fortunately, with Chun Hua and Little Lan present, they seized every opportunity to strike, taking down an opponent whenever she was unable to dodge in time.

But these twenty or thirty men were all trained fighters who didn’t fear death. During a lapse in her attention, one of them spotted an opening and swung his blade at her—

“Sister! Look out!”

Ah Jun suddenly charged out, grabbing the man’s arm. “Sister, run!”

“Ah Jun!”

Seeing Ah Jun’s thin frame shielding her, Song Lianhe had no time to think. She pulled out a silver needle and thrust it into the man’s *ashi* point!

The *ashi* point is incredibly sensitive. The needle’s prick sent a jolt of pain through the man, and he grimaced.

Song Lianhe seized the chance to land a vicious kick, pulling Ah Jun back with her.

“Why did you come out?”

Ah Jun looked toward Yin Huan and roughly wiped his eyes. “I should have come out sooner… I can’t leave you out here alone, Sister! I have to protect you!”

Just then, screams of panic erupted in the street. “They’re in the city! The Da Cheng Army has broken through!”

Faced with the invading Da Cheng Army, none of the commoners dared to resist. Those with nowhere to hide knelt obediently by the roadside, clutching their children and shivering in fear.

Even after what must have been a fierce battle, the invading army’s formations were orderly, their steps steady. They were a dark, crushing mass that seemed to dim the very sky.

This imposing aura compelled the commoners to kneel one by one in utter submission.

They had originally been subjects of Da Cheng. To them, it didn’t matter who ruled the city, as long as its people could live in peace.

Seated on a warhorse was a man in a mask and a full suit of armor, radiating an extraordinary martial prowess.

He pulled on his reins, ignoring the kneeling commoners on both sides, and rode straight to the entrance of the medical hall.

He sat tall in his saddle and swept his gaze over the corpses on the ground. Some had their eyes pecked out, their throats torn open. Others were blackened from head to toe, bleeding from all seven orifices. They lay in heaps, their deaths too gruesome to look at.

He dismounted and strode forward.

A surviving guard saw who it was and immediately dropped to his knees. “General Yan! The Princely Heir… he…”

Yan Jiayu glanced at Yan Jisha’s corpse, slowly crouched down, and raised a hand to check for breath. Once he confirmed he was truly dead, he slowly looked up at the woman standing opposite him.

Song Lianhe was covered in blood. She had several blade wounds on her body, and blood dripped down a lock of hair plastered to her cheek. She stared fixedly at Yan Jiayu, utterly fearless, looking as if she were ready to drag him down with her at any moment.

Beside her, Ah Jun was panting, dragging Yan Shaji’s sword behind him. His expression was fierce, and he looked as though he’d been fighting for his life.

Little Lan was draped weakly over Song Lianhe’s shoulder, its head drooping.

Chun Hua’s feathers were also matted with blood, and its sharp, hooked beak was covered in it. Its eyes, however, were still sharp. It spread its wings in a warning display, stirring up a gust of wind, then clutched Song Lianhe’s other shoulder, fixing the man opposite in a defensive posture.

Yan Jiayu rose to his feet, his voice extremely low. “You killed my older brother. I have to take you back to give our royal father an explanation. Otherwise, we’ll all be buried along with this piece of trash.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep