Before his brain could catch up, Shu Mingye's body had already made the decision for him. He dashed forward, fire spiritual energy bursting to life with a crackle, his black sword appearing in a blaze of red light. His eyes locked on the fake princess. His heart pounded, not from the sprint, but from the sight of the fake princess pinned to the wall like a nail.
But before he could reach them, he saw her move. Fast. Too fast for someone who'd just been used as wall decoration.
Her left hand reached up and yanked something out of her hair. Shu Mingye didn't see what it was—hairpin, needle, tiny kitchen knife—at this point, it could've been a spoon that also functioned as a weapon. Nothing would surprise him anymore.
In one smooth motion, she grabbed Zimo's head with one hand and stabbed toward his eye with the other.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Shu Mingye's steps skidded to a halt.
Zimo let out a grunt, released her, and staggered back. She dropped to the floor, landing hard and coughing, one hand on her throat.
He rushed to her side. He didn't want to admit it but when he saw Zimo strangling her, something in him snapped.
Shu Mingye was by her side in an instant, already kneeling, already glaring. "Are you insane?" he snapped, his voice somewhere between furious and panicked.
Linyue, being Linyue, was already brushing herself off. Completely calm. Not even a twitch of panic.
"Ah," she said, lifting her right hand and examining it with mild irritation. "I almost poked my own hand."
Shu Mingye stared at her.
That's what you're worried about?
Not the fact that she almost got her throat crushed.
This woman. This absolutely terrifying, ridiculous woman. He wasn't sure if he wanted to strangle her or applaud. Maybe both, in that order.
Without saying a word—because words would only encourage her—Shu Mingye reached out, grabbed her firmly by the waist, and hauled her to her feet.
Simple, efficient.
Except it wasn't. Because the moment she got close, he caught the soft sweet scent.
He froze.
Gardenia. Again. He barely stopped himself from sniffing like a dog. With all the self-control of a saint, he let her go quickly and took a step back. Totally normal. Very composed. Very kingly. Not weird at all.
Meanwhile, her so-called guard had already stood up, calmly dusting off his sleeves like he hadn't just been thrown into a wall. Shu Mingye gave him a look. Really, what was wrong with this pair? One got choked half to death, the other got launched, and now both were just casually strolling over to Zimo like they were checking on a sleeping old uncle.
Zimo, by the way, lay on the ground. Not moving.
Shu Mingye glanced down at him, then at the fake princess.
She just raised a brow, completely unbothered. "It was also poisoned," she said, very helpfully.
Ah. Of course it was.
Shu Mingye had been too busy panicking internally to notice before, but now that he looked down—yep. Zimo was not getting up anytime soon. The man wasn't dead (probably), but he definitely looked like someone who'd be missing breakfast. And lunch. Maybe the rest of the week.
Then she spoke, tone casual.
"Hmm. Missing an eyeball. Not ideal."
The guard beside her nodded seriously. "Vision's overrated anyway."
Shu Mingye just stared at both of them. "Is this the thing?"
"Yes," she said. "Where's General Boyi?"
Right on cue, there was the soft scuffle of boots then Boyi and the rest of the guards jogged up from the shadows. Apparently, after their lord disappeared, they had… repositioned. For tactical observation, obviously. Not because they were hiding on a corner and whispering, "Oh no, did the princess just try to kick a general in the face?"
Their expressions were priceless: half admiration, half mild spiritual trauma.
They'd all watched the fight with wide, astonished eyes. Zimo was no joke. They knew who he was. They'd seen him in battle. A war hero. And yet these two random strangers had just tossed him around.
Honestly, Boyi wanted to give them a medal. Or at least two thumbs up.
Wait, did she just call him "General Boyi?" Did he ever tell the princess his name? Did the lord tell her?
And there was one more thing that still bugged him. He squinted at her suspiciously. "Are you… really a princess?"
She smiled without hesitation and said proudly, "Of course. I was born a princess, grew up as a princess, and will always be a princess."
The confidence was so solid, so unwavering, it made them all instinctively nod.
Well then. Guess she really was a princess.
Shu Mingye snorted at her proud little declaration. "Really? Are you sure?" he asked, voice full of doubt and amusement.
"Of course," she replied again, with another proud nod.
He couldn't help it. He burst into laughter. So confident. So serious. Was she even listening to herself? "You do realize everything you've done since I met you has been the exact opposite of what a princess would do?"
Behind her, He Yuying raised a hand. "No doubt. Dumpling Princess. Napping Princess. Possibly Poking Princess."
Linyue ignored both of them. "Quick, let's go," she said, already turning on her heel.
Boyi, still half in awe and half in disbelief, scratched his head. "Uh, Princess, what exactly do you plan to do with him?" He pointed at the very unconscious, very famous, very large general on the ground. "After you've... you know… taken him out?"
She spun halfway and turned to Shu Mingye, dead serious. "Can you lend me an empty spot in your prison?"
Shu Mingye raised a brow, clearly entertained. "And what if I don't want to?"
"I'll pay the rent," Linyue said calmly, like she was asking for a quiet room with good sunlight instead of casually stashing a kidnapped general in someone else's basement.
"I don't accept money as payment."
She paused for half a second, then replied seriously, "Candy then?"
"Pfft—" Shu Mingye almost choked. Candy? Again? His mind flashed back to the time she casually tossed handful of colorful candy into his bloody palm. He still hadn't decided whether that was the strangest or most insulting thing anyone had ever done to him.
They really didn't have time for jokes, but apparently, she did.
So he dropped the teasing and narrowed his eyes. "What about your name?" he asked. "Your real name. Not the 'princess' one."
"Linyue," she said. Flat. Unbothered.
He blinked. Just like that? No hesitation? Not even a dramatic pause? He stared at her, wondering if it was the truth or another lie. She looked utterly unfazed. As if revealing she wasn't a real princess was no big deal. Just another day, another identity. No crown? No problem. At this point, he was pretty sure her secrets had their own secrets.
Then she turned to Boyi, all business again, and handed him a small vial filled with glowing purple liquid. It looked like it had been distilled from nightmares and grape juice.
"I want him alive," she said, serious now. "As lively as possible."
Boyi took the vial carefully, like it might explode if he breathed too hard. And then she kept going.
"If you can't restrain him," she continued casually, "choke this down his throat. Or chop off a leg. Or poke out an eye. Whatever works."
Shu Mingye's mouth dropped open. Excuse me??
"Just make sure he lives," she added, with a smile so cheerful it was borderline evil.
Then her voice dropped, cold and sharp. "If he dies, someone will have to replace him."
Boyi froze. Absolutely motionless. Possibly reconsidering the concept of breathing.
Shu Mingye, for once in his life, was speechless.
This was supposed to be a simple smuggling mission. Get the "thing," sneak it out, maybe burn a few obstacles along the way.
She really meant it.
It seemed that the resentment run deeper than he thought. It wasn't just anger. It was deep. Cold, bitter and sharp enough to draw blood.
Resentment like that didn't come from a bad day. It came from years of holding it in. Should he ask? Maybe. Curiosity itched at him. But something told him she wouldn't give a straight answer. She'd probably say something ridiculous again—some wild, absurd, dramatic sentence that sounded like it came from storybook. Something that would spin around in his head for hours, making absolutely no sense and yet somehow sticking there like a thorn.
Shu Mingye rubbed his temples.
"… But what is it with her and poking eyes?" he muttered under his breath.
He didn't know whether to be impressed, worried, or slightly afraid for his own eyeballs.