"Young master!"
"Young master!"
A servant's cries came from outside, piercing the wooden door's two-inch thickness and jolting Wang Quande out of his reverie by the window.
"Come in," he said softly. A second later, the door burst open with a bang.
"What is it? Why are you in such a hurry? Where are your manners? I thought some beggar had barged in."
"Young master!" The servant was so out of breath he could barely speak, but the excitement and joy on his face were unmistakable. Seeing that, Wang Quande already had a feeling what he would say.
Sure enough, he said, "Her Highness! It's Her Highness! The Princess is here, in the Central Courtyard with three guards."
Whoosh! The instant the words left his mouth, Wang Quande vanished from the spot, brushing past the servant's sleeve like a gust of wind and leaving a rushing sound behind him.
Rounding a corner, he caught sight of four people in the Central Courtyard from beneath the eaves. One was a woman who, simply by standing there, radiated a flowing aura of holiness and purity, like a lotus blooming in a lake. Beside her stood three men, like three mud-covered lotus roots.
Wang Quande slowed his steps as he approached the lotus. A volcano seemed to be erupting in his chest. That impulsive, uncontrollable feeling made breathing difficult, and each step grew harder to take. It felt less like walking on stone slabs than on ice that might shatter at any moment.
At his appearance, Zhao Jingya and the others turned their eyes toward this man with the steady footsteps.
He was handsome, his skin as smooth as jade, his shoulder-length hair neatly arranged. His clothing was as radiant and vibrant as the bearing he exuded, like a golden leaf orchid covered