"Help me sit up," Lang Huan whispered to Feng Yao when she noticed the two Mo leader had finally fallen asleep.
Gently, Feng Yao supported her weakened body. Inside the slow-moving carriage, Lang Huan sat cross-legged on the floor. The poison from the Silver Qi Needle was still ravaging her meridians, like a thousand tiny needles stabbing her from within. But her mind remained strong.
She knew—if she didn't act now, neither she nor Feng Yao would escape from them.
Drawing in a deep breath, Lang Huan closed her eyes and gathered the last remnants of her spiritual energy into her dantian[1]. She wasn't sure if this would work. But she had to try.
Gradually, she let herself sink into her inner world. The sound of the carriage wheels, the wind, even the searing pain—all of it faded away. Only silence and darkness remained.
In that emptiness, she saw a thick fog, rolling like a sea of clouds. She stepped forward into the mist.
"Yuyan…" she called out silently. "If you're still out there… I need you." Even though Lang Huan had no idea how to find her—or even what Lang Yuyan truly was—she believed, deep within her sea of consciousness, that they were still connected.
A faint light emerged in the distance. The mist parted, revealing a graceful woman approaching. Her long hair shimmered like silver threads in the moonlight, and her white robe—embroidered with clouds and plum blossoms—seemed untouched by time.
"Lang Huan," the woman spoke, her voice soft and clear.
Lang Huan immediately dropped to her knees and hugged Lang Yuyan's thigh, even though she knew this was all happening within her mind. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief at having finally found her.
"Ohhh my great-great ancestor… please, help me. Your granddaughter has been poisoned…"
Lang Yuyan looked at her for a long moment, then let out a gentle sigh and shook her head.
"Lang Huan, you may be blessed with powerful inner force, but that's no excuse to slack off. Let's see if you still dare to skip training after this…"
Lang Huan lowered her head, guilt flickering in her eyes. "Please… help me this time. I promise—I won't skip training again."
She lifted a hand, and the fog swirled into an image of Lang Huan's meridians.
"Listen carefully. To seal the poison, you need to reverse the flow of your qi. Let it wrap around the poison's core."
Lang Huan nodded, shutting her eyes once more. She drew her weakened qi inward, forcing it to flow against its natural path. The pain was blinding—like her insides were tearing apart—but gradually, she felt it: the poison was slowing, coiling together, gathering in one place.
Cold sweat trickled down Lang Huan's temples. Her face had turned deathly pale, and her body trembled uncontrollably—but her focus didn't waver. Then, all at once, a surge of energy burst through her. Her meridians trembled violently as a wave of heat rose from her dantian to her throat, forcefully pushing the poison out of her body.
Lang Huan gasped.
Her body lurched forward, and with a harsh breath, she vomited a thick stream of black blood.
When she opened her eyes, Feng Yao was already at her side, gently wiping the blood from her lips. Her eyes were red with emotion.
"Are you okay?" Feng Yao asked, her voice unsteady. Then she lowered her head—and silent tears began to fall. Tik. Tik. Tik.
Lang Huan looked at her, heart twisting. She had never imagined that someone as cold and untouchable as Feng Yao would cry for her. Without hesitation, she reached out and pulled Feng Yao into a gentle embrace, holding her close.
"Don't cry… don't cry. I'm okay," she whispered softly, her voice like a warm breeze after a storm.
Feng Yao didn't answer right away. Her head rested against Lang Huan's chest, quietly listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
Lang Huan's embrace was warm and grounding, and for a fleeting moment, the world beyond the carriage no longer existed.
Lang Huan leaned down and kissed the tears from Feng Yao's cheeks, one by one. Then, with a faint smile tugging at her lips, she teased, "If you keep crying, your makeup's going to smudge."
Feng Yao sniffled. "How could I care about that right now?"
Lang Huan let out a soft laugh, her fingers gently tracing the edge of Feng Yao's face, wiping away the last of her tears. "Well, I care. I don't want to see Your Highness looking like a panda later."
A faint laugh escaped Feng Yao's lips. Lang Huan felt the tension in her own body ease as she saw her smile again.
Then, her tone shifted, soft but firm. "Don't worry," Lang Huan whispered, leaning in so close her breath brushed against Feng Yao's ear. "I've just expelled the poison."
Feng Yao nodded slowly. Her cheeks were still flushed, but the quiet storm in her eyes had finally settled.
"I'm hungry," Lang Huan grumbled, her tone sharp with irritation. "Your Highness brought so much delicious food, but I haven't even tasted a single bite!"
Then, she slammed her foot against the wall of the carriage.
THUD!
The loud noise echoed sharply, enough to jolt the two Mo men awake. They sat up with a start, eyes wide as the carriage shook slightly from the impact.
Lang Huan crossed her arms and glared at them. "Bring us food and clean cloth to change," she demanded.
Mo Zhi's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "You're our prisoner," he sneered. "And you still dare to act arrogant?"
Mo Zhi raised his hand, ready to hit.
But before he could, Mo Jie quickly grabbed his wrist. His voice was cold.
"Don't do that. No matter what, they have noble backgrounds. If anything happens to them, we could get in serious trouble with palace master."
Mo Zhi pulled his hand back with a frown and looked away.
Mo Jie gave him a brief, warning glance. "Stay here and keep an eye on them. I'll go get food and clothes."
He left with a few disciples. After a while, he returned, carrying warm food and clean clothes. The carriage started moving again, deeper into the forest, and stopped at a quiet, hidden place.
Lang Huan accepted the items with a nod, then handed a clean set of clothes to Feng Yao.
Now, only the two of them remained in the carriage.
"Make sure the curtains are tightly shut," Lang Huan said gently.
Feng Yao nodded.
With quiet care, Lang Huan stepped outside, drawing the curtain closed behind her. Then she moved around the carriage, carefully checking each curtain from the outside to ensure not even the smallest gap remained. Once everything was secure, she stood guard nearby.
Inside the carriage, Feng Yao unfolded the fresh clothes Lang Huan had given her. Her hands paused for a moment as she glanced at the tightly drawn curtains around her.
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
Lang Huan's protective nature… it was too warm. And it made Feng Yao feel like an ordinary woman. Not a princess who always had to be strong, calculating, or full of schemes. But someone who could be cared for. Someone who could feel safe.
And honestly… sometimes she hated that feeling.
Because it made her heart soft. And softness, in her world, was dangerous.
When she was done, the curtain shifted, and Feng Yao stepped out. Lang Huan was already there, reaching up to help her down from the carriage.
Now it was Lang Huan's turn to change.
Feng Yao waited outside, but Lang Huan felt uneasy leaving her alone among a group of men.
She stepped close and gently took Feng Yao's wrist. "I don't feel safe leaving you out here with them, Your Highness," she whispered.
Feng Yao raised an elegant brow, her tone teasing. "Don't tell me… you want me to watch you change?"
Lang Huan gave a small sigh. "I'm serious."
"I'll be fine," Feng Yao said gently. "Just be quick. I'll wait right here."
Lang Huan looked at her for a second, then nodded. "Call me if anything happens."
She slipped inside the carriage, drawing the curtain closed behind her.
Feng Yao turned her gaze outward, seemingly relax—but her fingers quietly brushed the hidden dagger at her waist.
Meanwhile, Mo Zhi took another swig of wine, his eyes burning with ill intent. He had never seen such a noble, beautiful woman up close—let alone a princess. And now, she was alone, unguarded. That bastard Lang Huan was still weakened from poison. Wasn't this the perfect chance?
He pushed off the tree, eyes fixed on Feng Yao like a predator.
But before he could get closer, the carriage curtain swept open.
Lang Huan stepped out, hand extended. "Come. Your Highness must be hungry."
Feng Yao smiled calmly and placed her hand in Lang Huan's, stepping back into the carriage. Mo Zhi face twisted in anger.
With a sneer, he turned away and kicked a tree root nearby, cursing loudly.
[1] energy centers in the body where qi (vital energy) is cultivated and stored.