Lian Yuxi's POV
I threw my hairpin.
The jade handle left my fingers like it had a thousand times before. Perfect aim. Perfect timing.
Metal met metal in midair. The crossbow bolt deflected, slamming into a stone pillar three inches from Yifeng's head instead of through his heart.
My only weapon—the poisoned hairpin I'd carried for eleven years—clattered uselessly to the ground somewhere in the darkness.
Get down! I shoved Yifeng behind the pillar as three more bolts whistled past. One grazed my shoulder. Pain flared hot. Blood bloomed against jade-green silk.
I'd just saved him.
Why had I saved him?
You're hurt, Yifeng said.
I'm alive. You're welcome. I scanned the garden, mind racing. Twenty assassins visible. Probably more hidden. Guild-trained. Professional. We need to move. Now.
Agreed. Unfortunately He gestured at the surrounding assassins closing in from all sides. We're surrounded.
Three assassins charged straight at us.
No time to think. I grabbed a fallen guard's sword—too heavy, wrong balance, not my weapon—and moved.
The first assassin swung a curved blade at my throat. I ducked, felt the wind of it pass over my head, drove the sword up through his ribs. He fell choking.
The second came from my left. I spun, blocked his strike, kicked his knee sideways. Bone cracked. He screamed.
The third aimed for Yifeng's exposed back.
I threw the sword like a spear.
It punched through the assassin's throat. He collapsed, blood bubbling.
Three down. Twenty-seven to go.
You weren't lying, Yifeng said behind me, voice filled with something like admiration. You really are the best.
Talk later. Survive now. I pulled twin daggers from a dead assassin's belt. Better. These felt right—balanced, sharp, familiar. Can you actually fight, or is that sword just decoration?
His smile turned dangerous. Let's find out.
He drew his ceremonial sword—gold-trimmed, dragon-carved, probably never used in real combat.
Then he moved.
The Emperor fought like a demon unleashed. Fast. Brutal. Precise. He killed two assassins in seconds, his movements sharp as broken glass.
Not a pampered ruler who'd never seen battle.
A warrior who'd learned to survive in a palace more dangerous than any battlefield.
Back to back! he shouted over the clash of steel.
I'd never fought with a partner before. The Guild trained us alone. Trust no one. Rely only on yourself. Fighting together meant vulnerability. Exposure. Weakness.
But assassins surrounded us. Escape was impossible.
I pressed my back against his.
We moved as one.
When he stepped left, I covered right. When I ducked low, he struck high. His sword and my daggers became extensions of the same deadly dance.
It was terrifying. I couldn't see him. Couldn't predict his movements. Had to trust he'd cover my blind spots.
Also exhilarating. His presence at my back felt solid. Real. Safe.
For the first time in eleven years, I wasn't fighting alone.
Having fun yet? Yifeng asked between sword strikes.
You're insane. I blocked an attack, slashed the assassin's throat, kicked his body into two more. Who jokes during battle?
Someone who's been in too many battles. He parried, riposted, drove his blade through an attacker's chest. Besides, if we're going to die, might as well enjoy it.
We're not dying tonight.
Confident.
Practical. I didn't save your life just to watch you die three minutes later.
His laugh was brief but genuine. Fair point!
An assassin lunged at my side. I caught his wrist, twisted, felt bone snap, drove my dagger up under his ribs. He fell.
Another came from above—dropping from a tree branch. I threw my second dagger. It caught him mid-air, straight through the eye socket. He crashed down dead.
Now I had no weapons.
Problem? Yifeng asked, sensing my hesitation.
Just ran out of daggers.
Here. Without looking, he tossed me a sword from a fallen guard. Catch!
I caught it one-handed. Too heavy. Wrong grip. But better than nothing.
We fought through the garden like a two-person army. Bodies fell around us—ten, twelve, fifteen. Blood turned the grass black under moonlight.
My shoulder burned where the bolt had grazed me. My hands were cut from blocking blades. Every muscle screamed.
But I was alive.
We were alive.
The last three assassins saw us standing in a circle of corpses and ran. They vaulted the walls and vanished into the night like ghosts.
Silence crashed down.
I stood panting, covered in blood that wasn't mine. My jade-green dress was ruined—torn, stained, destroyed beyond repair.
Yifeng leaned on his sword, breathing hard. His perfect hair hung loose. Gold robes splattered with red. The untouchable Dragon Emperor looked human. Real. Alive.
We did it, he said between breaths.
We survived. I corrected. Survival isn't victory.
Close enough for tonight. He straightened, scanning the burning palace. Flames climbed from the East Wing, painting everything orange. Commander Zhao! East Wing! Secure the palace!
Footsteps thundered toward us.
I tensed, ready to fight again, but these were imperial guards. Fifty of them, led by the scarred commander who'd tried to arrest me earlier.
Commander Zhao Chen stopped dead, staring at the carnage. His eyes widened, counting bodies. Then they found me, still standing at the Emperor's side, covered in blood and holding a sword.
Your Majesty— His voice cracked. Are you injured?
No. Yifeng didn't look away from me. His gold eyes held mine with an intensity that made my heart stutter. Thanks to her.
Zhao's hand went to his sword hilt. The assassin is still
Still the only reason I'm breathing, Yifeng cut in coldly. She just saved my life. Multiple times. Fought beside me when my own guards were nowhere to be found.
Zhao's jaw clenched. Your Majesty, with respect, she came here to kill you. This could all be an elaborate—
She threw away her only weapon to save me. Yifeng's voice turned to ice. While the explosion happened, where were you, Commander? Where were my elite guards? Where was my protection?
Zhao's face reddened. He had no answer.
Yifeng turned back to me. Blood stained his hands. Exhaustion lined his face. But his gold eyes still burned with that unnerving intensity.
He extended his hand.
Blood-stained. Steady. Impossible.
You never answered my question, he said quietly. Loud enough for only me to hear. Before the attack. Before all this. I asked you to be my shadow guard.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
The deal. The bargain. Freedom or death.
Everything had changed in the last ten minutes. I'd fought for him. Saved him. Bled for him.
Crossed a line I could never uncross.
Do we have an accord, Phantom Blade? Yifeng's voice was soft. Certain. Like he already knew my answer.
I looked at his hand. At the Emperor who'd caught my assassination attempt and smiled. Who'd offered me freedom and revenge. Who fought like a demon and joked while dying.
Who saw me. Not the weapon. Me.
The garden held its breath. Guards watched. Fires crackled. Bodies cooled.
This was it. The moment everything changed.
Take his hand, and I betrayed the only home I'd ever known. Became a traitor to the Guild. Heishan would hunt me forever.
Refuse, and I'd die tonight. Alone. A failure.
I thought of my father selling me. My sister's smile. Heishan's voice calling me his weapon.
I thought of Yifeng fighting beside me. Trusting me with his back. Seeing past the blade to the girl underneath.
My hand moved.