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Ongoing Translation

ITVCFITB CHAPTER 74

Chapter 74 – The Assassins

Life in Gucheng seemed calm on the surface, but every message from the capital reminded Luo Shuyu and Li Mingjin that peace was fragile. Their plans were still in motion; if upheaval broke out in the capital, could they return in time? No one could know.

Though the winters were harsh and kept most indoors, on clear days the townsfolk still craved diversion.

Three years in Gucheng, three years of constant vigilance against the threat of Guiyan raids, had left little time for leisure. But now, their scouts had mapped enemy movements, spies had sewn discord among the Guiyan tribes, and the barbarians were too busy tearing each other apart to threaten Gucheng.

For the first time, the border breathed easy.

Mingjin seized the chance to strengthen morale. He organized a grand winter sport—an ice-field cuju tournament.

The contest had run for weeks. Now it was the final day: the championship match.


The Tournament

The stands overflowed with cheering townsfolk. Luo Shuyu and Li Mingjin sat in a sheltered pavilion, warmed by braziers, while outside, the crowd braved the wind.

When the couple appeared, waves of applause rose from the crowd.

Shuyu stood and lifted a hand in greeting. His chest tightened unexpectedly, so many people, cheering not for duty, but out of genuine gratitude.

Mingjin noticed his reddened eyes. “What is it? Did something move you?”

Shuyu smiled faintly. “I just… didn’t expect my small efforts to mean so much to them. It feels good to be remembered.”

Mingjin squeezed his shoulder. “Then let them remember. If they ever dared turn into ingrates, I’d be the first to deal with them.”

Shuyu chuckled. “That’s true.”

The match began. It was fast-paced, rough but thrilling. Every goal drew shouts that echoed across the frozen field. Shuyu mused aloud: “We should make this a yearly tradition. Not only does it strengthen teamwork, it brings people together.”

Mingjin grinned. “Consider it done.”

When the match ended, Mingjin himself stepped forward to present the trophy.

The victors trembled with excitement except one man. His smile was stiff, his eyes strangely calm.


The Attack

Mingjin’s instincts sharpened.

The prize shattered to the ground. The man lunged, knife flashing straight at him!

Mingjin twisted aside, narrowly escaping the blade. He had been waiting for it. Ordinary folk would be giddy with joy, not cold as stone. This was no champion, this was a killer.

Shouts erupted.

The assassin struck again, but Mingjin met him blow for blow until hidden guards surged from the crowd to intercept.

Yet Mingjin’s first thought was not for himself. He whipped around just in time to see another blade arcing straight at Luo Shuyu.

The crack of Mingjin’s whip split the air. Steel clashed. The assassin’s strike missed Shuyu by inches.

Mingjin dragged him behind his back, voice rough with fear: “Shuyu! Are you hurt?”

Shuyu steadied himself against a chair, breath quick, then shook his head. “I’m fine. But watch out!”

The ice field erupted in chaos. More assassins surged from the stands, mingling with panicked civilians. Some officials were struck down before guards rallied. But Gucheng’s people were no cowards, living under constant threat had hardened them. Those with weapons fought back; others armed themselves with whatever they could seize.

Still, the assassins were no ordinary men. Tongues cut out, loyal unto death, they fought until slain or killed themselves when captured.

Deathsworn soldiers.

Only great houses or imperial factions could raise such men.


Aftermath

Mingjin and Shuyu were hurried back to their residence under heavy guard.

Chen Rong, too frail to attend the match, rushed forward when they returned. “Your Highness! Are you hurt?” His worry was raw.

“We’re fine,” Mingjin said evenly. “Send physicians into the city. Any civilians wounded today, treat them for free. And those who fought back, reward them.”

Rong glanced at Shuyu. He suspected who had thought so quickly.

In truth, Mingjin was still trembling inside. Only Shuyu’s steady hand on his back kept him anchored.

“I nearly lost you today,” he whispered hoarsely.

Shuyu stroked his shoulders. “No, you saved me. You put yourself between me and the blade. That isn’t useless, Mingjin. That makes you my hero.”

Mingjin kissed his brow, voice low. “A hero deserves a beauty.”

Shuyu snorted softly. “And I am the beauty, of course.”

Still, fear lingered in his chest.

He gently turned the subject: “Perhaps you should ask General Wei how the interrogations go.”

Mingjin’s gaze hardened. “No, I’ll interrogate them myself.”

Shuyu caught his sleeve. “Even if you get nothing, don’t let it shake our pace. This attack may have been only a probe. Father Emperor’s health is stable, thanks to Consort Mei. As long as he lives, we have time. Don’t let them force us off our rhythm.”

Mingjin breathed deeply, then nodded. “You’re right. But the deathsworn must still die.”

He doubled the guards around Shuyu before leaving.

The captured assassins yielded nothing. Tongueless, they could not speak; those who survived interrogation soon ended their own lives. The trail went cold.

But both Mingjin and Shuyu knew this was no foreign plot. This was the capital reaching its hand northward.

And someone, whether the Crown Prince, the Yans, or the Fourth Prince guided by Shen Mingyun’s cursed “system”, was afraid enough to strike.


In the Capital

The year drew to a close.

News of Mingjin’s deeds seeped back into the capital. Whispers spread: the forgotten Third Prince was no longer a wasted pawn, but a man who could tame the north.

The Crown Prince and Yan Xiang became ever tighter bound together, two men lashed to the same sinking ship.

On the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth month, the Crown Prince was summoned to the Yan residence.

He entered discreetly and was led to his grandfather’s study where serious matters were always discussed.

But this time, Yan Xiang did not speak. He merely turned, twisted a vase on the shelf, and revealed a hidden chamber.

“Inside,” he said. “What we must discuss is too grave for prying ears.”

The Prince followed without hesitation.

Within the secret room stood a figure he knew as well as his own reflection.

He froze. “Mother…? Why are you here?”

It was the Empress herself, pale but resolute, who had slipped out of the palace unseen.

She had carried the truth in silence for over twenty years. Now, at last, she could not keep it buried.

Yan Xiang gave a weary sigh. “Tell him, Empress. He must know.”

The Prince’s pulse thundered. His breath came short. He already guessed what they meant to say, yet every part of him wanted to flee before he heard it.

He did not want to know.


Author’s Note:
Third Prince: Wife, you’re a corporate spy who stole my trade secrets. I, the brilliant CEO, caught you. Now I’ll punish you with endless passion until you beg for mercy!
Luo Shuyu: Except I swapped the wine you drugged me with. You drank it yourself. And you’re allergic. You died. On the spot.
Third Prince: … Let me redo this. I can still live!
Luo Shuyu: Heh.



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