Chapter Thirteen: Perilous Journey and Devoted Vigil, Yin Feng Breaks Through the Barrier

On the journey back to the Li Dynasty, Li Chengyin and Xiao Feng rode side by side, the pounding hooves stirring up clouds of yellow dust that spread across the open road, mirroring their anxious hearts.

Li Chengyin sat tall and proud, like a venerable pine standing firm atop his horse. His face was stern, his gaze sharp and hawk-like, vigilantly scanning their surroundings.

His eyes seemed to pierce through layers of dense woods and grass, leaving no corner unchecked for any hidden danger, always alert for the slightest sign of an ambush.

His hands gripped the reins like iron pincers, knuckles whitening from the strain. To him, the reins were no longer mere leather but a blade ready to cleave through any peril; with a mere thought, he could cut through thorns and brambles alike.

As for Xiao Feng, her jet-black hair whipped wildly in the howling wind, flowing like agile black silk—bold, unrestrained, yet touched with a hint of defiance.

Though a flicker of nervousness rippled across her eyes, like gentle waves on a placid lake, a deeper resolve lay beneath, as steady and immovable as a massive stone resting at the lake’s bottom.

She followed closely behind Li Chengyin, lightly flicking her riding whip now and then. The crisp crack of the whip echoed through the terrifying silence of the road, each snap like a battle hymn urging their horses to race faster, as if challenging time itself.

They entered a dense forest, where the already suffocating tension thickened unbearably. The surrounding stillness was as profound as a deathly abyss; only the monotone clatter of hooves echoed between the trees, each sound striking their hearts like a tolling funeral bell.

Suddenly, Li Chengyin stiffened as if struck by an electric shock. He swiftly raised his hand to signal Xiao Feng to halt. His ears twitched—this acute sensitivity honed through years of bloody palace intrigues caught even the faintest rustle of wind or grass.

“Xiao Feng, be careful,” he whispered, his voice as soft as a falling leaf yet brimming with endless vigilance and worry. Though swallowed by the forest’s silence, it reached Xiao Feng’s ears with crystal clarity.

Slowly, he drew the sword at his waist. The moment the blade slipped free from its sheath, a flash of cold light streaked like lightning, illuminating his austere face—chiseled as if from ice, radiating a deadly chill and resolute determination.

Instantly alert, Xiao Feng’s hand instinctively reached for the dagger at her waist. Her eyes, sharp as a leopard’s, locked onto the surrounding woods, blazing with wary fire.

Without warning, a group of men clad in black emerged like phantoms from the trees. They moved swiftly and silently, encircling Li Chengyin and Xiao Feng in an instant.

Li Chengyin’s heart sank deeply—he knew the Crown Prince’s trap had finally sprung.

At this critical moment, without hesitation, he shielded Xiao Feng behind him. His broad, solid frame stood like an impregnable fortress, blocking all danger and fear from her.

His eyes burned with fierce resolve, like a blazing flame.

“Xiao Feng, don’t be afraid. With me here, they won’t harm you.”

His voice was steady and strong, a balm to her frayed nerves, calming her instantly. It also rang out like a battle cry to their enemies, echoing through the forest and making the leaves tremble.

With that, Li Chengyin spurred his horse forward like an arrow loosed from a bow, charging at the black-clad assailants.

His sword danced like a dragon unleashed upon the sea, each strike tearing through the air with a whistling roar, composing a deadly symphony.

The attackers lunged like ravenous wolves, but he met them fearlessly. His swordplay grew ever fiercer, every stroke lethal. On horseback, he twisted and turned with the grace of a war god descending to earth, leaving trails of blood in his wake.

Behind him, Xiao Feng watched his back with a mixture of admiration and worry. She noticed the fine beads of sweat forming on his brow, trickling down his resolute face and dripping onto the ground, immediately swallowed by the swirling dust.

Yet his gaze remained unwavering, like a torch ablaze, never extinguishing, guiding her through the darkness. He dodged enemy strikes with agile nimbleness, moving like a monkey weaving through blades; then, with precise backhand thrusts, he struck vital points like a hawk piercing its prey.

Time seemed to freeze amidst the fierce battle; every second stretched into an eternity.

Clutching her dagger tightly, her palms slick with sweat, Xiao Feng stood ready to rush forward and fight alongside him.

At last, after a grueling struggle, the black-clad attackers began to fall back—the threat repelled.

Li Chengyin reined in his horse, which let out a long neigh and lifted its forelegs high.

He turned to Xiao Feng, his eyes filled with deep concern, almost overflowing.

“Xiao Feng, are you alright?”

His voice trembled slightly. Though the fight had been fierce, what troubled him most was her safety. Even the slightest injury would pierce his heart.

Catching her breath, Xiao Feng shook her head and feigned calm.

“I am blessed by fate. Let us continue our journey—we cannot let the Crown Prince’s conspiracy succeed.” Her gaze radiated unwavering determination, as immovable as a towering mountain. No matter the hardships ahead, she would face them alongside Li Chengyin.

They galloped onward toward the Li Dynasty, trailing clouds of dust behind them—the marks of their battle. Ahead lay unknown challenges, perhaps more conspiracies and dangers waiting in the shadows.

Yet their hands remained tightly clasped, as if exchanging strength and courage through their palms. Their shared conviction burned bright, like stars sparkling in the night sky—eternal and unquenchable.