At that moment, the two servant women and the attendants finally squeezed through the crowd, looking disheveled.
One of the women’s hair buns had come loose, and an attendant had lost his hat.
They were all panting heavily.
Nie San said, “Let’s go.”
A’Wu stuck close to him.
She was unfamiliar with the city and instinctively clung to the one person who seemed reliable.
She knew the servant women were useless, and the attendants couldn’t be trusted either.
At this moment, she had no choice but to depend on Nie San—even if he was leading her into a trap.
Nie San, of course, noticed her behavior.
She followed behind him step by step, as if afraid he would abandon her.
His gaze dropped to her hands.
Her delicate, pale fingers were tightly gripping the fabric of her dark green dress, so tightly that red marks had begun to form on her fair skin.
At that moment, A’Wu lifted her head and looked at Nie San.
Their eyes met.
Nie San could clearly see the emotions flickering in her gaze—pure, unguarded, filled with faint unease and worry.
She looked afraid.
Nie San raised an eyebrow slightly and said in a calm, indifferent voice, “Lady, don’t worry. Since I have accepted this task, I will naturally ensure your safety…”
He paused before continuing, “… and safely deliver you to Yanxiang Temple.”
A’Wu studied him carefully.
She felt there was a hidden meaning in his words, as if he were hinting at something.
Under his gaze, her cheeks flushed slightly.
She bit her lip and nodded seriously.
At that moment, the two servant women caught up.
One of them grumbled, “Why give up a perfectly good carriage just to walk? We’re old—we can’t keep up!”
Nie San glanced at A’Wu’s slender figure and said, “We’ll hire another carriage once we leave the city.”
The two women instantly looked relieved, and A’Wu also found this arrangement agreeable.
However, she suddenly remembered the blocked road in the city and curiously asked, “Nie Sanlang, I just thought of something…”
Nie San replied, “Lady, please speak.”
A’Wu asked, “There must be many nobles in the capital, right?”
Nie San nodded, “Yes.”
A’Wu continued, “If every noble’s entourage requires commoners to clear the way, wouldn’t the capital be in a constant state of congestion?”
Nie San chuckled and explained, “In the capital, even if a signboard falls from a tavern, it could land on three royal relatives. But not every noble’s procession requires public avoidance. Different ranks have different protocols. Today, the one traveling was Princess Dening.”
A’Wu repeated, “Princess Dening?”
Nie San nodded, “Yes.”
A’Wu understood now.
She knew that the current emperor had very few heirs—only a Crown Prince and a single princess.
The princess was a year younger than the Crown Prince, which meant she must be this Princess Dening.
She was likely the young lady who had passed by while A’Wu was kneeling earlier.
But this had nothing to do with her—she was only curious.
As they spoke, Nie San led her swiftly through the narrow alleys.
Before long, they arrived at a bridge.
Nie San said, “Once we cross this bridge, we’ll reach the city gates.”
A’Wu looked around curiously.
She now saw that the city was surrounded by a moat, with five water gates.
Each gate connected the inner and outer bridges.
Inside the city, there was a stone bridge with iron chains, while outside, there was a suspension bridge.
It was now dusk, and traffic flowed steadily across the bridges.
A’Wu asked curiously, “Why is the suspension bridge swaying?”
Nie San explained, “That’s the outer bridge. Once the city gates close, the bridge will be lifted.”
A’Wu suddenly understood, “Oh! So when the gates close and the bridge is raised, no one can get in!”
Nie San glanced at her innocent expression and said, “Yes. The city gates will close soon.”
As he spoke, the evening drums began to sound.
According to the capital’s curfew laws, the city gates would be closed after the evening drums, and all movement would be restricted.
Hearing the drumbeats, the two servant women became anxious and urged, “Hurry, we need to leave the city now!”
Nie San, showing no particular emotion, said, “Let’s go.”
He took the lead, guiding the group onto the bridge.
The bridge was wide, grander than anything A’Wu had ever seen.
It was divided into separate lanes for pedestrians and carriages, with a designated imperial path.
The stone walls along the bridge were intricately carved with mythical water creatures—seahorses with single horns, fierce and majestic.
A’Wu had never seen such things before and couldn’t help but marvel at them, her eyes darting from one carving to the next.
As they walked, the sudden sound of galloping hooves and sharp shouts came from behind.
The crowd rushed to move aside in a flurry.
Nie San turned his head sharply, his expression changing.
A’Wu was confused and instinctively looked back.
But before she could see anything, Nie San stepped in front of her, his broad frame blocking her view entirely.
A’Wu was shocked.
Nie San said, “Lady, onto the bridge—leave the city.”
A’Wu’s heart clenched.
She had a vague suspicion of what was happening, but she dared not say it aloud.
She could only feign ignorance.
Nie San quickly led the group, shielding A’Wu as they hurriedly blended into the bustling crowd and ascended the bridge.
Just as they were hastening across, the sound of galloping hooves echoed behind them, followed by the sharp cry of reins being forcibly pulled back and the startled gasps of the surrounding people.
A’Wu’s heart began to race.
She had to leave the city.
She had to go to the monastery and become a nun.
She could not be locked away in Huancui Courtyard again!
Or worse—perhaps she wouldn’t even be allowed to stay there… perhaps her very life was at stake!
Clenching her dress tightly, she ran forward with all her strength, leaving the attendants and servant women stunned in her wake.
Nie San took a few large strides and kept pace beside her.
The group crossed the bridge, merging with the throngs of people passing through the city gate.
They then hurried across the iron-chain suspension bridge outside the city walls.
As they stepped onto the bridge, the rapid clatter of hooves rang out behind them.
Nie San turned back, his expression icy.
A’Wu instinctively looked as well.
Beneath the towering city walls—built in a triple-eaved, hip-and-gable roof style—stood the majestic crimson city gates, their sheer height of five to six men tall dwarfing the guards stationed beneath them.
At that moment, the evening drum sounded once more, a deep and solemn announcement.
The guard commander gave the order—close the city gates!
Eight uniformed guards stepped forward in unison, pushing the colossal doors from either side.
The gates began to shut, inch by inch.
A’Wu’s heartbeat pounded like a drum.
She knew that in Great Hui, the curfew laws were absolute—once the gates closed, no one could leave or enter, not even the Crown Prince himself.
Just a little more—just a moment longer—and she would be free.
But the hoofbeats behind her only grew louder—closer.
A’Wu stared unblinkingly at the massive doors, watching as the huge bronze studs on the gate shifted under the golden light of the setting sun.
The doors were almost closed.
Almost.
Then—
BOOM!
A thunderous gallop.
A horse suddenly burst through the narrowing gap of the city gate!
The guards shouted in alarm.
The commander roared an order—”Block him!”
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.