A faint groan came from behind the curtains. "Little Hu... is that you...?"
Hu Xiaotian recognized Wen Ya's voice and rushed inside, taking the steps two at a time. Wen Ya lay on the floor, one hand reaching weakly toward him. He hurried to her side, first righting the fallen candlestick on the table and lighting it before lifting her from the floor. Her face was deathly pale, her delicate body trembling uncontrollably. Every breath she exhaled was cold, and white frost had formed on her hair and eyelashes. Her teeth chattered so badly that she could no longer speak.
Hu Xiaotian grasped her soft hand and found both her hands unnaturally cold. He looked around. "Baobao? Where's Baobao?"
Unable to speak, Wen Ya glanced toward the northeastern corner of the chamber. Hu Xiaotian lifted her onto a chaise and searched the room. Before long, he found Baobao behind a screen in the northeastern corner. She, too, lay in a pool of blood, with a dagger embedded in her right leg.
Hu Xiaotian lifted Baobao out of the blood and felt the artery in her neck. Finding that she still had a pulse, he shouted in alarm, "Someone, come quickly... help!"
A clatter of footsteps sounded outside the door. Clearly, quite a few people had heard his cries and were hurrying over.
Holding Baobao's delicate body, Hu Xiaotian called softly, "Baobao! Baobao! Wake up, wake up..." No matter how he called, she remained unconscious, oblivious to everything around her.
More than a dozen Imperial Guards rushed into the Bright Moon Palace with torches raised, flooding it with light. The sight left them frightened out of their wits. Blood covered the floor of the Bright Moon Palace, and no one knew what had happened.
Someone shouted, "Quick... fetch an Imperial Physician!"