Chapter 94
The scream indeed came from the prime minister’s courtyard.
You Xiang’s face paled as well. Watching Murong Qiufeng’s departing figure, she quickly followed.
Chaos reigned in the courtyard of the prime minister’s residence.
In the center of the yard, surrounded by guards, a woman covered in blood wielded a dagger wildly, her movements frenzied and uncontrolled.
The guards dared not retaliate, worried they might harm the woman. All they could do was dodge her attacks.
Murong Qiufeng’s already pale face darkened further—the woman was none other than the prime minister’s wife.
On the other side, a crowd surrounded the prime minister himself, who lay on the ground, barely clinging to life. He was being protected by several people.
Murong Qiufeng’s breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding. He hurried to the prime minister’s side, his expression cold and taut, his body tense. Beneath his sleeves, his hands were cold and trembling slightly.
“Sixth Young Master!” Seeing Murong Qiufeng approach, several guards immediately stepped aside to make way.
The prime minister had already fallen unconscious, leaving everyone else panicked and helpless. The attack had been so sudden that if not for a few people stepping in to restrain the prime minister’s wife, the prime minister would have been beyond saving.
Murong Qiufeng crouched down to examine the prime minister’s injuries, pressing several acupoints to stabilize him.
You Xiang, arriving shortly after, gasped at the sight before her. She quickly ran to Murong Qiufeng’s side, assisting in tending to the prime minister. Once she saw the injuries were not life-threatening, she let out a small sigh of relief.
“Fortunately, no vital organs were harmed. He’s just lost a lot of blood. Immediate treatment is necessary. Move him to his room, and prepare hot water and strong alcohol,” You Xiang ordered crisply, before running back to Murong Qiufeng’s courtyard to fetch medicinal supplies.
Murong Qiufeng, hearing her instructions, allowed himself a moment of relaxation. “Follow her orders. You, go help.”
“Yes, sir.” Murong Qiufeng’s firm tone carried an icy authority that seemed to calm the previously panicked guards, who quickly sprang into action.
“Bring me my qin,” Murong Qiufeng ordered, his gaze cold as he looked at the prime minister’s wife, who was still in a frenzy and had already injured several people.
“Master, the qin is here.” You Xiang, returning with the medicine chest, also carried the qin, clearly anticipating his intentions.
Murong Qiufeng nodded slightly. “Thank you.” He took the qin, sat down cross-legged, and commanded, “Step back!”
The guards quickly retreated, their hearts pounding as they watched the prime minister’s wife slowly approach the sound of the qin.
Her earlier madness seemed to fade as the music filled the air. She appeared confused, her eyes dull and unfocused. Tilting her head, she walked curiously toward the source of the music, her dagger still dripping with blood.
Murong Qiufeng’s hands moved faster, his fingers barely visible, though the melody remained soothing, like a gentle breeze.
As she neared, Murong Qiufeng’s expression softened into a warm smile. His voice, soft and dreamlike, murmured, “Mother, Feng’er is tired and wants to sleep. You should rest early too.”
“Sleep?” The prime minister’s wife froze in her steps, her expression blank. After a moment, her face softened into a loving smile. “Alright, alright, sleep…” She dropped the dagger, her body collapsing to the ground.
Murong Qiufeng was by her side in an instant, catching her before she fell completely. He gestured for the guards to remain silent.
Just as he carried her toward the house, several people rushed into the courtyard.
Two women screamed at the sight of blood, while the young man leading them cried out in shock. “Why is there so much blood? Who’s been killed?”
Murong Qiufeng’s expression darkened. In his arms, the prime minister’s wife suddenly opened her eyes. Though her gaze was hollow, it held a flash of malice. With a sinister smile, she pulled a hairpin from her bun and drove it toward Murong Qiufeng’s neck.
“Master—!”
Gasps filled the air as everyone froze, wide-eyed.
The hairpin grazed Murong Qiufeng’s neck as he shifted slightly. Blood oozed from the cut, staining his white skin and soaking his shoulder.
A shadowy figure darted in, immobilizing the prime minister’s wife with a pressure point strike. She slumped unconscious, the hairpin clattering to the ground with a sharp sound that snapped everyone out of their stupor.
“What are you all standing around for? Get a doctor!” The young man’s voice broke the silence, barking orders. Behind him, the two women clung to their maids, trembling in terror.
Murong Qiufeng glanced at the man, his gaze unreadable—a mixture of pain and unspoken meaning. Without a word, he carried the prime minister’s wife into the house.
“Master, please tend to your wound first,” the shadowy figure urged, stopping Murong Qiufeng from playing the qin again.
Murong Qiufeng hesitated, only now becoming aware of his injury. He had staunched the bleeding earlier with acupuncture but had forgotten about it in the chaos. Now, dizziness set in, a result of blood loss. Though the wound wasn’t fatal, it had grazed an artery and was deep.
“The doctor is on the way. It’s not urgent,” Murong Qiufeng replied lightly.
The shadowy figure frowned.
Murong Qiufeng’s expression turned cold. “Let go. My parents’ well-being comes first. There’s no time to worry about myself.”
The shadowy figure pursed his lips but didn’t budge.
“You—”
“Sixth Brother, you’re seriously injured. Let me handle things here. Go rest,” interjected a calm voice.
The speaker was the young man who had just arrived, Murong Hao, Murong Qiufeng’s elder brother.
Murong Qiufeng glanced at him, his expression indifferent. “No need, Brother. It’s just a small wound.”
“You’re ignoring my advice again,” a low, chilling voice suddenly rang out, carrying a sinister edge that sent shivers down everyone’s spines.
The room fell silent as everyone turned to look. Murong Qiufeng’s face turned pale as he raised his head. The newcomer was none other than Shangguan Ye.
The shadowy figure immediately released the qin strings and vanished after bowing to Shangguan Ye.
Murong Hao and the others dropped to one knee. “Greetings, Your Highness.”
Shangguan Ye ignored them, his piercing gaze fixed on Murong Qiufeng. His eyes darkened further at the sight of the blood-stained neck, a dangerous glint flashing within them.
Murong Qiufeng’s heart sank. The look in Shangguan Ye’s eyes was suffocating, carrying an ominous sense of destruction.
