Chapter 2

Li Mianyu struggled like a dying fish. Yan Zhi frowned but did not loosen his grip. He cast a glance backward and slightly slowed his pace.

Qing Ling had already breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the seventeen or eighteen-year-old secret guard carrying Li Mianyu away, and hurried to follow.

However, that young guard's pace was swift, and Qing Ling struggled to keep up, gasping for breath. Finally catching up, she heard Li Mianyu cry out and quickly said, “Princess, he’s not an assassin. He’s Yan Zhi, the secret guard assigned by His Majesty to protect you.”

Yao Fang beside her nodded vigorously. “Yes, Princess, Yan Zhi is highly skilled and follows His Majesty’s orders to escort you safely out of the palace.”

No matter how much Li Mianyu struggled, the guard’s frame was steady and unshakable. She exhausted herself, panting, her abdomen aching from the guard’s solid shoulder pressing against her.

“What proof do you have?” Li Mianyu refused to believe so easily. How could someone sent by her great-grandfather be so rude?

Yan Zhi unfastened something from his belt and handed it to her over his shoulder.

Li Mianyu looked down and saw his distinct knuckled hand holding a copper token. She took it and recognized it as the token carried by secret guards loyal to her great-grandfather, something she had seen during her childhood visits to him. The token bore the guard’s name and the unique emblem of the Li royal family.

“A token means the guard lives; no token, no guard.”

This token bore the name Yan Zhi.

“Put me down. I can walk myself.” Knowing he was sent by her great-grandfather, Li Mianyu ceased her struggle. She punched the guard’s back lightly, tossed the token back to him, and scolded.

Yan Zhi caught the token impassively. He was already carrying Li Mianyu across corridors and paths, avoiding others, reaching the end of the palace road where the view opened wide. There, he saw panicked palace staff and chaotic troops weaving through them.

He took a step back and glanced at Qing Ling.

Qing Ling's face was filled with dread. She watched as the chaotic troops ravaged and pursued the palace staff. Blood streaked along the garden paths of Cangyu Palace, where beautiful palace maids were trampled and abused. Just that morning, Cangyu Palace had been peaceful and serene—yet all changed in the blink of an eye.

“Where is the Princess of Ningguo? Speak!” The rebel troops roughly seized a fleeing palace maid. Qing Ling recognized her as the one who had said earlier that Master Cui had not brought any message.

The palace maid’s face was ghastly pale, lips trembling. “She fled. I saw Aunt Qing Ling take the princess away.”

“In which direction?!” The rebel’s tone was fierce.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” the maid stammered. Before she finished, a piercing scream erupted.

The rebel severed her palm with a harsh snarl, “Tell the truth!”

Li Mianyu heard the commotion and instantly froze, her body turning icy cold. She remained silent and still on Yan Zhi’s shoulder, not daring to breathe.

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