Chapter 127: Exposed — His Majesty’s Superb Acting
Without his order, Shadow Two and the others would never abandon their posts. So these people were definitely not his!
“Who’s there?!” Cui Huan, who was resting in the outer hall, clearly heard the disturbance as well and shouted loudly.
Nan Xun groggily opened her eyes. When she saw Yan Han, she rubbed against his neck in relief. “Brother Han, why aren’t you asleep yet?”
“Yaoyao, there are assassins outside. Stay here and don’t move!” Yan Han said in a low voice. He quickly put on his mask, drew his sword, and flew out.
Nan Xun jolted fully awake.
“Little Eight, Little Eight! Was it Yan Moyu who sent people to kill me?” she asked hurriedly.
Little Eight replied, “Yeah. The emperor is lying right there on your bed—who else could it be besides Prince Xian?”
“Damn it, that scumbag. I confessed my feelings not long ago—how long has it even been, and now he’s coming for my life?”
Little Eight snorted. “Isn’t this exactly what you were hoping for?”
Nan Xun said, “No, I can’t just hide here. I’m going out to help Brother Han fight the enemy.”
Little Eight shuddered. “Oh, give it a rest. If you go out, it definitely won’t be to help him.”
Nan Xun said, “It is to help him—while conveniently knocking the mask off his face and then putting on a heart-rending, drama-of-the-year performance.”
Little Eight: …
In the courtyard, Yan Han and Cui Huan were already locked in fierce combat with the attackers.
When Nan Xun finally saw what those people were wearing, she was shocked. They weren’t dressed in night garb, nor were they masked—they were wearing the uniforms of imperial guards!
Were they themselves Prince Xian’s moles planted among the imperial guards, or had they silently killed this batch of guards and then changed into their uniforms?
Either way, for Prince Xian to pull this off so flawlessly was truly impressive.
There were about ten attackers. They had thought killing a concubine in the Cold Palace would be easy, but they clearly hadn’t expected that in this seemingly insignificant place, two experts were lying in wait.
Especially that man in the silver mask—his moves were sharp and ruthless. In just a few blinks of an eye, he had already killed two or three of them.
“Brother Han, I’ll help you!” Nan Xun shouted and charged in with her sword.
Yan Han’s expression changed. “Go back at once! Don’t cause trouble!” he barked.
That moment of distraction earned him a slash across the arm.
Nan Xun’s eyes reddened at the sight. She wanted to rush over, but remembering that she was indeed the weakest of the three in martial arts, she hesitated—neither able to advance nor retreat.
But the “guards” had noticed how important Nan Xun was to Yan Han. They split off a few to entangle Yan Han and Cui Huan, while the rest rushed straight at Nan Xun.
Yan Han’s eyes widened. He skewered one man’s throat with a single thrust, kicked another squarely in the chest, then sped toward Nan Xun, pulling her behind him just before the assassin could reach her.
Nan Xun stumbled from the yank and obediently hid behind him, chatting with Little Eight, “Do I really look that useless? The Qin family’s swordsmanship is formidable. Even if my internal energy isn’t as strong as theirs, I should be able to hold out for ten or so moves, right?”
Little Eight said, “Stop pretending to complain after getting exactly what you wanted. If the big boss didn’t come over, how would you seize the chance to knock his mask off?”
At first, Nan Xun hid behind Yan Han, occasionally parrying a few strikes whenever someone attacked their side. Later, Yan Han was so worried about her that he directly pulled her into his arms and fought the assassins one-handed.
His martial arts were so superb that even with one hand, he did not fall behind. Cui Huan, however, though she had killed three assassins in succession, had already been cut several times.
Just as the assassins were about to be completely dealt with, Yan Han spun with Nan Xun in his arms to narrowly evade a strike. Nan Xun’s arm lifted unintentionally—and with a pah, she knocked the mask off Yan Han’s face.
The world seemed to freeze at that instant.
Nan Xun stared at the face she had seen countless times—and loathed countless times—and went completely blank.
Everything happened too fast, without any warning. Yan Han’s eyes flew open and his body stiffened. He didn’t dare look into Nan Xun’s eyes, afraid of seeing the very thing he feared most.
Suddenly he let out a muffled groan. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse, an assassin slashed at him, nearly hacking off half his arm.
Yan Han’s grip loosened. Nan Xun slipped from his arms and staggered back several steps.
“Yaoyao, listen to me,” Yan Han tried to step forward, but an assassin raised his blade and chopped down. In a surge of fury, Yan Han’s moves became several times more vicious than before. With one strike, he split the assassin from the forehead down, nearly cleaving him in two, then thrust straight through another man’s chest.
Bodies of assassins lay scattered across the courtyard. The pungent stench of blood filled the air. The man who had just finished the brutal fight stood there, breathing lightly.
Cui Huan staggered over to Nan Xun’s side. Together they looked at Yan Han, shock written all over their faces.
Yan Han’s mask had fallen away, revealing his true face—the very tyrant they so often mentioned: Yan Mohan.
“Yaoyao, I… I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t come any closer!” Nan Xun suddenly screamed, looking at him with utter unfamiliarity.
That gaze stabbed straight into Yan Mohan’s heart.
“Yaoyao, let me explain. I didn’t mean to deceive you. I…” Yan Mohan’s lowered hand clenched into a fist. He had imagined this moment countless times—what he would say when the truth was exposed—but when it actually arrived, he realized all the prepared words were useless.
Facing Qin Buyao’s eyes, brimming with hatred, he couldn’t utter a single excuse.
His original intention really had been to toy with this woman. But now… he loved her. Yet such a reason, spoken aloud, would never convince her—and even he himself found it laughably absurd.
Nan Xun staggered toward him, forcing herself to hold back emotions on the verge of collapse. She suddenly raised her sword and pointed it straight at him, her words popping out one by one: “Yan Mohan, your acting is truly excellent. With skills like that, why didn’t you go perform in an opera troupe?”
“When you couldn’t kill me, you decided to play with my feelings instead?”
“No, Yaoyao, it’s not like that…”
Nan Xun gave a bitter laugh that looked more painful than crying. “Right. You got what you wanted. I was fooled completely—lost my body and my heart. You must be very pleased with yourself now, huh?”
“And these assassins you brought today—what kind of trick is this? A self-inflicted injury ploy? Trying to make me even more devoted to you?” As she spoke, her mocking gaze swept over Yan Mohan’s bleeding arm, her eyes devoid of even the slightest trace of concern.
She let out a strange, choked laugh, then suddenly shouted coldly, “Yan Mohan, let me tell you this: the heart I, Qin Buyao, gave away—I can take it back and stuff it right in again. And if it won’t go back in, I’ll cut it to pieces myself and swallow it!”
