Quick Wear: Oh no, the lady is running away with the ball again

Chapter 239 The Living Abandoned Empress of the Cold Palace X The Invading Unruly Buddhist Son 73

Inside the inn, the lights flickered. Although the cold was blocked outside the door, an elusive sense of oppression permeated the air.

Qi Heyao paused by the stove for a moment, his eyes occasionally glancing at the mysterious leader.

Ever since that day when he noticed that this person looked at Yun Qian with a strange look in his eyes, he had someone test this person and discovered that he did have some abilities, especially the ability to calculate the weather, which surprised Qi Heyao even more.

According to his calculations, the official road where the post station was located would be blocked by heavy snow in three days. Qi Heyao therefore believed him, stopped his march, and sent people to verify it. The result was exactly as he said.

"This person might still be useful." Qi Heyao pondered this, his gaze profound. He lowered his head, picked up the teacup, and sipped the hot tea, while thoughts raced through his mind. He always kept people he could keep, and used them if he could use them.

At midnight, the wind and snow gradually subsided, and silence fell outside the post station. A mysterious figure, taking advantage of the guard change, quietly left the room. His movements were as light as a ghost, and in a flash of his clothes, he disappeared into the woods behind the post station. In his hand, he held a thin piece of paper, the edge of which seemed to be stained with a trace of wet ink.

Deep in the dense forest, a chill wind whipped through, carrying snow and hail. Moonlight cast an icy sheen on the still-melted snow. A mysterious figure stood beneath a stout pine tree, his black robe fluttering in the wind, revealing the dark brown embroidery at the hem, like some ancient spell. His hand trembled slightly as he handed a thin slip of paper to his companion.

"Send it, quickly." His voice was hoarse and low, with a hint of urgency and hidden anxiety.

The companion across from him wore short leather armor and a fur-trimmed cloak, clearly intended to conceal his presence. He nodded, and without further questioning, he took the note, quickly tucked it away in his arms, and disappeared into the depths of the dense forest. His footsteps were brisk and silent, like a wild fox darting through the wind and snow.

The mysterious figure stood still, his head tilted slightly upward. A black veil obscured most of his face, but moonlight filtered through the gaps, illuminating the sharpness and depth of his features. Deep scars, faintly visible beneath his veil, crisscrossed like a past that could never be erased. Scars stretched from his cheeks to his ears, as cold and piercing as his whisper.

His gaze suddenly turned back, gazing far away in the direction of the post station. The lights inside flickered slightly, the warm light filtering through the window paper, casting a blurry silhouette. That silhouette belonged to Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess of Da Qi, Yun Qian.

She was also the woman who disturbed his master's mind.

The mysterious man narrowed his eyes, a complex emotion flitting across them: a mixture of hostility, contempt, and resentment. His mouth twitched slightly, but he said nothing more. He simply wrapped his cloak tightly around him, turned, and disappeared between the moonlight and the shadows of the trees.

Hundreds of miles away, in the military camp, the north wind whipped against the tents, lifting the curtains. Inside, the stove burned brightly, and the candlelight flickered, casting a flickering light on the entire tent.

Qi Jueyu sat at the desk, wearing a light-colored undergarment and a wide-sleeved brocade robe embroidered with silver thread, depicting clouds and cranes. His simplicity radiated a calm dignity. His face remained pale, his lips slightly dry, but the fierceness in his eyes and brows remained undiminished. Though he had just recovered from a serious illness and remained frail, he sat there as steady as a mountain, as if he would not tolerate anyone's slight.

Several military newspapers and maps lay scattered on the desk. His hand was gently pressing on an open military atlas, his fingertips slightly pale, clearly indicating he hadn't fully recovered his strength. Yet, his expression remained calm, his eyes glimpsing a gap between the volumes and landing on a newly delivered envelope.

Qi Jueyu picked up the letter and unfolded it with a slight pressure from his fingertips, causing the paper to make a subtle sound in his palm. He glanced at the contents of the letter, a subtle smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He murmured softly, "It seems he met Yun Qian."

The candlelight flickered his profile, and at that moment, even he couldn't tell whether he was pleased or disgusted. He shook his head slightly, as if he felt that this person was a little overconfident, but he didn't rush to deal with it.

He picked up the wolf-hair brush beside the desk, dipped it in ink, and wrote on a fresh piece of letter paper. The tip of the brush was like a knife, and the handwriting was thin and cold:

"Get back here."

After he finished writing, he gently folded the letter and sealed it. He wanted to hand it directly to the servant beside him, but he paused the moment he reached out. He took it back calmly and without any embarrassment.

He unfolded the letter and wrote: Don't hurt her.

This time, the attendant took it with a salute and was about to leave, feeling nervous, when Qi Jueyu suddenly called him.

"and many more."

"Tell him that if he acts without authorization again, he won't be allowed to come back." His voice was like a crack of ice, calm and imbued with an unquestionable authority. The attendant dared not say anything more and quickly withdrew.

Qi Jueyu lowered his eyes, his gaze returning to the table. His gaze passed through the map and the letter, seemingly piercing the cold night and reaching the distant post station. He could imagine her, perhaps standing by a solitary lamp in that snowy place, coldly observing those who approached her.

He suddenly rose slowly from his chair and walked leisurely to the window inside the tent. A cold wind seeped in through the cracks in the window, bringing with it the chill of a winter night. He stood there, gazing at the fires of the distant military camp, an indescribable emotion flickering in his eyes.

"Don't hurt her." He repeated the words he'd written in the letter in a low voice, his voice heavy as if suppressing some unspoken emotion. He knew his subordinates were dissatisfied with her, but that was no reason for them to take action. She was his; since she had been by his side, she was his.

"Your Highness." An attendant stood cautiously outside the tent door and called in a low voice, "The doctor is here and said he wants to see you again."

Qi Jueyu turned around, his expression back to normal. He hummed softly, raised his hand to straighten his sleeves, and said in a calm and dignified voice, "Let him in."

The attendant bowed and withdrew. A few breaths later, a doctor in a plain white robe hurried in. He was followed by a medical boy, holding a medicine box in his hands.

The doctor stepped forward and saluted, then opened the medicine box and pulled out a jade needle. Qi Jueyu sat back at the table and lifted his sleeve slightly, revealing his wrist. There was an old wound on his wrist. Although it had scabbed over, the surrounding area was still abnormally red and swollen.

"Your Highness is no longer in serious condition, but the poison in the wound has not yet been completely eliminated, so he still needs recuperation." The doctor whispered, carefully giving him acupuncture.

Qi Jueyu lowered his eyes to look at his wrist, his gaze calm as usual, yet a hint of coldness lurked deep within them. His body was still weak, but that wouldn't affect his next move. He knew he had to recover quickly, as the situation didn't allow him to delay any longer.

After the acupuncture was finished, the doctor gave a few detailed instructions. Qi Jueyu nodded and said calmly, "You can go now."

The doctor bowed and left. Qi Jueyu watched him leave before returning to the letter on the table. He then raised his hand to pick up the map, flipped to another page, and began to examine it carefully.

"Idiot." He cursed in a low voice, as if he was talking about the subordinate who acted on his own hundreds of miles away, and also as if he was cursing himself.

The cold wind howled outside the tent, like the faint sound of war drums in the distance, foreshadowing that an unknown storm was quietly approaching.

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The next morning, Yun Qian stood outside the inn, looking at the snowy field in the distance that was gradually illuminated by the sunlight, but the wrinkles between his brows did not disappear.

She always felt that something was going to happen.