Saving a Life

The bloodstained silver spear sent great sprays of blood flying with every strike—others' blood, and Qing Ling's as well. The wound in her chest would not heal; each sweep of the silver spear tore it open anew, blood streaming down and completely dyeing her plain white clothes red.

The four men in blue had come for Changsun and had no desire to delay. Every move was ruthless, every move a fight to the death. Qing Ling stood alone with her spear barring the way, attacking without defending as she fought the combined assault of all four.

Screech!

As the blade's gleam came sweeping toward her again, Qing Ling neither dodged nor evaded. She took the slash head-on, then spun the silver spear in her hand. With thunderous force, one blow shattered the man's arm.

"One move for one move. How many moves can you withstand?"

The leader of the four blue-clad men spoke, a chill flashing through his eyes. Having failed to assassinate Changsun, they would face severe punishment when they returned. They had calculated everything, yet who could have imagined that a mere palace maid beside Changsun possessed such ability?

Qing Ling did not answer. Whether she was unwilling or had no strength left, none could tell. Not a trace of its original color remained on her once-white robes. The breeze lifted her long hair, and in that hazy instant, a faint mist of blood seemed to dance through the air.

"It ends now."

The leader in blue saw that Qing Ling's oil had run dry and her lamp was spent. His curved blade swept out, streaks of azure light winding like swimming dragons. At the same time, the other three coordinated and rushed in, intent on ending the woman's life.

The blade-light was bewitching. The four arcs of saber energy were unstoppable, bolstered by the cultivation of all four men and crushing everything in their path. Not the slightest chance of survival remained.

Faced with the killing blow, a piercing light burst from Qing Ling's increasingly vacant eyes. Amid the scraps of cloth filling the sky, the silver spear left her hand and began spinning madly.

"I said it before—today, no one will cross this line by even half a step!"

As she spoke, Qing Ling advanced instead of retreating, stepping forward. At her side, the silver spear spun and shrieked, stirring the winds and clouds around it into an enormous vortex.

This final move contained the cultivation of Qing Ling's entire life, all to hold the line behind her. It was the obsession of her life, and Changsun's lifeline.

Boom!

The techniques collided, and heaven and earth trembled. Dust rose into the air as the weapons in all five hands failed beneath the tremendous force and shattered completely. The shocking impact even sent the guards and black-clad fighters battling nearby flying several paces away.

Urgh!

Amid the lingering shockwaves, the four blue-clad men felt sweetness rise in their throats and spat blood in unison. Their bodies trembled, and they could barely remain standing.

Not far away, the bloodstained graceful figure still stood unfallen, her back against the sedan chair as the light slowly faded from her eyes.

In the final glance of her life, there was only relief. She had held the line. She had protected Changsun's life. In this life and this world, she had no regrets.

It was only a pity that she would never again hear that infuriating fellow call her Sister Qing Ling.

"No!"

A grief-stricken cry rang out without warning. Qing Ling instinctively looked over, but her unfocused eyes could no longer see who had come. Faintly, a familiar figure seemed to reflect in her eyes before everything finally dissolved into endless darkness.

"Sister Qing Ling!"

Ning Chen rushed forward in a few strides and caught Qing Ling, his eyes filled with grief. He glanced at the four men not far ahead, and for the first time, intense hatred flashed through his heart.

He carefully leaned Qing Ling against the sedan chair. Only then did the bronze furnace cradled in Ning Chen's left arm come into view. He took out a fire starter and lit a hemp cord soaked in lamp oil at the furnace's mouth. Flames surged at once, following the oil into the bronze furnace. Ning Chen flung it away with both hands, then swiftly turned and wrapped Qing Ling in his arms.

The next moment, a terrifying explosion shook heaven and earth. The four heavily wounded men could not evade it and were blasted several yards away by the dreadful shockwave, crashing to the ground, their fates unknown.

Cough, cough.

To shield Qing Ling, Ning Chen had no choice but to endure part of the blast. His internal organs jolted violently, and drops of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

Amid the dust and smoke filling the sky, Ning Chen had no time to inspect his own wounds. He picked up Qing Ling and fled without looking back into a nearby alley.

At Du'an Pharmacy, Changsun stood at the entrance, constantly looking into the distance. Her face remained calm, but it could not conceal the anxiety in her eyes.

About half a quarter-hour later, Ning Chen came running over with Qing Ling, whose entire body was covered in blood, in his arms. Changsun immediately stepped forward to examine her. When she saw Qing Ling's miserable state, her eyes instantly reddened.

Yet Changsun was, after all, the Empress. After a brief moment of panic and helplessness, she quickly regained her composure. Only then did she notice that Ning Chen was in no better condition—his clothes were in tatters, and he looked utterly wretched.

"Quick, come inside."

Changsun led Ning Chen swiftly into the pharmacy's rear courtyard. Du'an Pharmacy was property belonging to Changsun's family in the imperial city, and its shopkeeper regularly went to the Changsun main house to settle the accounts. Before entering the palace, Changsun had often helped manage her family's books, so the shopkeeper was no stranger to her.

Ning Chen carefully laid Qing Ling on the bed. The shopkeeper immediately brought hemostatic medicine and white cloth. Only after the bleeding was temporarily stopped did he have time to take her pulse and inspect her injuries. Ning Chen and Changsun waited tensely at the side. As the shopkeeper's expression grew increasingly grim, their hearts sank with it.

"How is she?"

Seeing the shopkeeper rise, Changsun stepped forward and asked anxiously.

"Miss Qing Ling's internal organs have suffered severe damage. On top of that, she has lost more than half her blood and vital energy. There is no medicine that can save her," the shopkeeper sighed softly and answered truthfully.

"No medicine can save her..." Even Changsun, calm as she was, stiffened at those words and sat down blankly, her eyes vacant.

Hearing the shopkeeper's answer, Ning Chen's heart clenched fiercely as well. Suddenly, as though recalling something, he stepped forward and hurriedly took a small box from his robes, opening it.

This was what Mu Chengxue had given him, saying it could save his life. As for whether it would work, he could no longer worry about that now.

He stuffed the medicine into Qing Ling's mouth. The pill quickly dissolved and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Seeing Ning Chen's movements and anxious expression, a sliver of hope rose in Changsun's heart once more.

The shopkeeper stepped forward to take Qing Ling's pulse again. After a long while, he still shook his head and sighed. "No. It has preserved her final breath, but she has lost too much blood and vital energy. Empress Dowager, you should prepare yourself."

"I understand." Pain stabbed through Changsun's heart, but she nodded.

"Understand what? Hurry up and give her a blood transfusion!" In his urgency, Ning Chen no longer cared about rank, age, or propriety as he cried out.

At Ning Chen's strange words, not only the shopkeeper but even Changsun froze. A blood transfusion? What did that mean?

Seeing their expressions, Ning Chen knew that this world likely had no concept of blood transfusions. With no time to explain, he said, "Shopkeeper, please find something for me."

Ning Chen gestured as he described the item he needed. He spoke urgently, and the shopkeeper was left lost in the clouds and mist. In the end, Changsun understood what he meant and explained a few words. Only then did the shopkeeper leave with a look of sudden realization.

Fortunately, the shopkeeper was quite efficient. Before long, he returned with several gold threads, each of different thickness, but all with tiny holes through them.

Such things were not difficult to find at shops that made gold ornaments. He did not know which kind would be useful, so he bought them all.

Ning Chen took the thinnest one and used scissors to cut both ends into slanted points. After sterilizing it with wine, he inserted the gold thread into Qing Ling's wrist.

Changsun opened her mouth at the side, just about to ask something, when she saw Ning Chen insert the other end of the gold thread into his own wrist.

"Please, don't let this go wrong!"

Ning Chen's expression was exceedingly grave. In his previous life, he had type O blood, but that did not mean he had the same blood type in this life. If he got it wrong, there would truly be no turning back.

A quarter-hour passed. Ning Chen's face gradually turned pale, and his footing began to weaken, yet he still struggled to remain standing. This era had no equipment for blood transfusions; if he sat down and the height was insufficient, the blood would never flow in.

Another half quarter-hour passed. Ning Chen's vision suddenly went dark, and he staggered, nearly falling. Fortunately, Changsun was right beside him and caught him in time.

"You should rest first. Let me take your place," Changsun said, concern lacing her voice as she looked at Ning Chen's deathly pale face.

"No. The fewer people involved, the less danger there is. I can still hold on."

Ning Chen refused Changsun's kindness. He was already gambling; if Changsun joined in, Qing Ling would truly be nine deaths and one life.

Nearly half an hour passed before Ning Chen finally could not hold on any longer and fainted. To make caring for them both easier, Changsun instructed the shopkeeper to temporarily add another bed to the room and had Ning Chen placed on it as well.

The shopkeeper gathered and brewed medicine in the front hall before delivering it to the rear courtyard. He was so busy his front foot barely touched down before his back foot lifted. Changsun had specifically ordered him not to reveal her identity to anyone, so he dared not entrust these tasks to others and could only do them himself.

After feeding medicine to both of them, Changsun finally found time to sit and consider the entire chain of events. Very few people knew that she had left the palace, so why had the assassination been arranged with such meticulous care?

"Western Palace!"

After pondering for a long time, Changsun's eyes suddenly narrowed as she thought of the most likely person. Beneath the Son of Heaven's heavily guarded feet, only Consort Wan of the Western Palace could have arranged everything so quickly.

If so, then Consort Wan might also have been coordinating the attempt to assassinate the Xia Emperor from within. But what was the purpose?

Wealth and glory? Impossible. Power and status? An attempt on her life could be explained that way, but if the Xia Emperor died, it would bring Consort Wan a hundred harms and not a single benefit.

Could it be that those seeking to assassinate her and the Xia Emperor were not the same faction?

Changsun weighed the matter for a long time but could not find the key to it. Still, now that she had a lead, she would have chances to investigate it slowly in the future.

She had originally left the palace to return to Changsun Manor, because the Xia Emperor had now given her a secret decree and asked her to deliver a letter to the head of the Changsun Lineage, Marquis Qinghe—her father.

The Changsun Lineage's foundations were not in the imperial city but in the distant northwest. It controlled Northwest Tailiang, Qinghe, and Zangchuan, three cities, and could be called a feudal power in its own right. However, every generation of Marquis Qinghe had left most of their direct kin at Changsun Manor in the imperial city to ease the Xia Emperor's concerns. Now that the Northern Mongol Royal Court was stirring unrest, and the Xia Emperor could not openly issue an order to send troops, the Changsun Lineage was the best choice. As long as Marquis Qinghe secretly reinforced the north, the Northern Mongol Royal Court would have to think twice before moving its armies.

Because of the Omen of Mars, Great Xia could not take the initiative to start a war, but that did not mean it had to swallow humiliation and endure in silence. The Xia Emperor could not make a grand show of sending reinforcements, but he could still secretly have Marquis Qinghe increase his troops.

The reason was simple: Marquis Qinghe's territory lay close enough to the Northern Mongol Royal Court that, if handled carefully, even dispatching troops would not draw attention.

This matter was highly confidential. Once exposed, it could be exploited by those with ulterior motives, who would spread rumors that the Xia Emperor intended to raise troops and provoke war. With the Omen of Mars already appearing, Great Xia's position would immediately become exceedingly difficult.

In this world, none was better at exploiting people's hearts than the Eternal Night Divine Cult. Great Xia could not take that risk and could only proceed with caution.