The Prisoner of Beauty - Chapter 13
Chapter 13: Shiyi
The wind, heavily laden with snow, battered ruthlessly against Xiao Qiao’s face. She could barely open her eyes, and atop the horse's back, the world spun in a dizzying blur, erasing all sense of direction. Driven by a visceral survival instinct, she began to struggle violently against her captor, only for a voice to cut through the howling gale right beside her ear: "Manman! It is me!"
The voice sounded somewhat familiar.
Xiao Qiao ceased her struggling, and behind her, the man deftly adjusted her position, settling her into a normal, secure seat astride the horse's back. Wiping the frost from her eyes, she turned her head to find a remarkably handsome, refined countenance peeking out from beneath the low brim of a bamboo hat.
It was the Heir Apparent of Langya, Liu Yan!
The sheer shock of the revelation was no small matter. Never in her wildest dreams could Xiao Qiao have anticipated that the person who had suddenly materialized to violently abduct her would turn out to be Liu Yan!
"Manman, do not be afraid! A carriage is waiting for us just ahead. Once we reach a safe haven, I will explain everything to you!"
Liu Yan's expression was tightly strained. He repeatedly checked their rear, offered her a few words of reassurance, and then squeezed his thighs against the horse's flanks, bringing his whip down hard to send the horse flying forward over the snow.
The fog in Xiao Qiao’s mind cleared, replaced by immediate alarm.
"Young Lord Liu! I will not go with you! Let me back!"
Yet, Liu Yan remained utterly deaf to her pleas. Far from slowing his pace, he brought his whip down with another vicious crack, spurring the beast to push through the blinding storm with even greater ferocity.
A sudden, freezing gust of wind rushed into her open mouth, instantly swallowing her voice. Choking on the icy air, Xiao Qiao erupted into a violent fit of coughing.
Ahead by the roadside, a carriage drawn by two horses was already waiting. The moment the white stallion thundered up to the vehicle, two hidden retainers leaped down from the driver's bench to assist. Dismounting in a single, fluid motion, Liu Yan scooped the still-coughing Xiao Qiao into his arms, forced her into the cabin, and climbed in directly behind her. The heavy wooden door slammed shut with a definitive bang. Veering sharply to the east, the carriage accelerated into a frantic, bone-rattling gallop across the frozen terrain.
Once inside the carriage, Liu Yan's expression finally relaxed slightly. Seeing Xiao Qiao hunched over, still struggling to catch her breath, a wave of profound tenderness and pity washed over his features. He extended an arm to gently encircle her shoulders, using his other hand to softly pat her back to soothe her ragged breathing. "Manman, I must have terrified you, didn't I? Do not fear. I have come to take you away. Moving forward, we will never be separated again!"
Xiao Qiao finally stopped coughing. Straightening her spine, she deliberately shifted her torso outward, slipping away from his embrace.
"Young Lord Liu, you cannot simply abduct me in this manner! I must return!"
Liu Yan seemed dazed, staring at her in absolute disbelief for a long moment. Suddenly, a profoundly bitter smile curled the corners of his lips, his eyes clouding with sorrow.
"Manman... is it possible that after a mere two years apart, you have grown this distant from me? In the past, you would never have addressed me by such a formal title."
Floods of fragmented memories began to resurface within Xiao Qiao’s mind.
Liu Yan had first arrived at the Qiao estate as a political refugee at the tender age of thirteen, returning to his ancestral lands of Langya when he reached eighteen. In the following year, their formal betrothal had been finalized. Today, he was twenty-one.
During those five formative years he spent under her family's roof, though technically a fallen nobleman in exile, the Qiao clan had treated him with the utmost dignity and aristocratic luxury. Qiao Ping had personally hired the finest instructors to train him in equitation and archery, while scouring the realm for rare military treatises for his private study, honoring him constantly as an esteemed guest of the highest order. The original Xiao Qiao and he had genuinely fallen in love; their marriage contract had been a natural, beautiful culmination of mutual affection.
Had she still been the naive, unchanged Xiao Qiao of old, she could not say for certain how she would have reacted upon being reunited with her former lover.
But she was no longer that girl.
The most indelible impression Liu Yan had left upon her soul was not his brilliant poetic talent or his desperate, consuming affection. Instead, it was the agonizing nightmare of her previous life's final moments—a specter that had haunted her consciousness for months.
In that past timeline, as the tragic, final Emperor and Empress of a dying dynasty, they had chosen to end their lives together in that besieged palace. To the romantic historians of the world, such an end would undoubtedly be lauded as an act of flawless, eternal fidelity.
She could even rationalize the complex political realities behind the sprawling imperial harem he had amassed as Emperor.
Yet, the piercing, venomous gaze of that thirteen-year-old Consort Liu right before her execution still caused Xiao Qiao to wake in a cold sweat to this very day, her skin crawling with visceral horror.
Perhaps one could forgive the ruthless efficiency with which Emperor Liu Yan managed his inner palace—such calculations were deemed entirely standard, even necessary, for a sovereign of that era. But within her own moral core, she simply could not condone it.
She felt profound pity for the tragic sovereign Liu Yan had been in her past life. But it was an undeniable reality that she could never again offer this man the same pure, unreserved affection the original Xiao Qiao once possessed.
Right now, her mind held only one clear, unshakeable objective: she could not allow herself to be carried away by him.
"Young Lord," Xiao Qiao spoke softly, her gaze steady. "My uncle broke our betrothal contract and chose to marry me into the north. In that matter, the Qiao family has profoundly wronged you. But the past is gone, and circumstances have changed entirely. I am no longer the Xiao Qiao you once knew. I am now a married woman, the legal wife of another house. I will carry your deep affection with me in my memory for the rest of my days, and I shall pray from afar for your enduring success. I must ask that you return me, or simply let me alight at the next crossroad. General Wei Liang will undoubtedly discover our trail very soon."
Liu Yan’s eyes remained locked onto her face, tracking every movement of her lips. Suddenly, he reached out once more, his fingers closing around her delicate hand with an intense, crushing grip.
"What nonsense are you speaking? I know with absolute certainty that you were forced into this union with Wei Shao! It was never your true desire! Now that I have come to rescue you from that monster, can we not simply return to how things were?"
Xiao Qiao shook her head gently. "Young Lord, I remain deeply grateful for your devotion, but I truly cannot accept this path. Furthermore, even if I were to vanish with you today, do you truly believe a man like Wei Shao would simply allow such an insult to pass without consequence? Where could you possibly take me to escape his reach?"
"Since the moment I resolved to execute this plan, I had already abandoned all intentions of returning to Langya!" Liu Yan declared, his countenance growing increasingly manic as the words poured out. "The title of Heir Apparent means absolutely nothing to me. The men who accompany me today are death-sworn blades entirely loyal to my person alone. The world is vast, Manman. I will take you to a paradise beyond the edges of the map, a place where no soul will ever track us down. We will be together forever!"
As he spoke, his expression grew highly animated.
Xiao Qiao slowly withdrew her hand from his grasp. "I am sorry. I fear I am destined to fail your expectations. I will not run away with you in this manner. Please, let me return."
He just stared at her, completely motionless and silent, as if he had entered a trance.
The carriage continued its frantic, reckless flight down the road, the chassis jolting violently whenever the heavy wooden wheels slammed into the hidden ruts beneath the snow.
The unreadable, fractured look deep within Liu Yan’s eyes began to stir a subtle chord of unease within Xiao Qiao's chest.
"Young Lord..." she ventured quietly, attempting to break the suffocating silence.
As if suddenly snapping out of a deep trance, Liu Yan blinked, a pleasant, gentle smile instantly reclaiming his face. "Ah, Manman... you must be speaking such wild words because the raid left you thoroughly startled. Do not be afraid. Simply trust in my arrangements; I have mapped out our path perfectly. We shall live a magnificent life together in the days ahead."
"Young Lord Liu! Sacrificing your entire future, your status, and everything you have built for my sake is a bargain that holds absolutely no value! I will not flee with you. What passed between us belongs to a lifetime that has already concluded. Please, let me go!"
Liu Yan stared at her, and the smile on his face slowly dissolved once more.
"Manman, you truly leave me entirely perplexed, and you have left me deeply disappointed."
He spoke the words one by one, his tone completely vacuous.
"You know my heart. The sun and moon may witness it; through three lifetimes, it shall never shift! For two agonizing years, I was denied even a glimpse of your face, yet within my estate in Langya, there was not a single second where your image did not consume my thoughts. Last year, I utilized the occasion of your uncle’s milestone birthday to travel all the way to the Eastern Commandery, praying solely for a brief audience with you—yet you chose to seclude yourself, refusing to see me entirely. Then, just as the date of our wedding neared, your Qiao family abruptly delivered a message terminating our sacred covenant. How did you expect me to endure such a humiliation? Though I, Liu Yan, may lack supreme martial talent, I am still a man! I cannot tamely suffer the theft of my lawful bride! I set out on this journey more than two months ago, trailing your caravan, waiting endlessly for a single opening. Today, the heavens themselves took pity on my plight, granting me the fortune to reclaim what is rightfully mine. I simply cannot comprehend what has happened to you. Are you hiding some unspeakable grievance, or have you truly turned your back on me, betraying the sacred vows we swore beneath the stars?"
"Manman, you are filled with countless anxieties right now, I know. But you need only follow me; there is no need to overthink the rest. Once a bit of time has passed, your heart will naturally understand. Have you truly forgotten the words you once whispered to me?"
Finally, his tone returned to that terrifyingly tender, coaxing whisper.
Xiao Qiao closed her eyes tightly, taking a deep breath.
"Young Lord, I..."
She spoke with some difficulty, but before she could finish, the carriage encountered a violent obstruction. The vehicle decelerated with a brutal, screeching lurch. Driven by the sheer momentum, Xiao Qiao’s body was thrown violently forward, only for Liu Yan’s arms to flash forward, catching her securely against his chest.
"What is happening out there?" The carriage ground to an absolute halt. Thrusting his torso through the window, Liu Yan barked a fierce, authoritative demand toward the driver's bench.
He suddenly froze.
Several chang away, cutting directly across the blinding white expanse of the snowy road, a formidable line of mounted archers had formed a rigid blockade, completely sealing off their path. Their heavy bows were drawn to the absolute limit, the gleaming steel arrowheads glinting with lethal intent, poised to unleash a hail of death at a moment's notice.
Liu Yan's countenance shifted drastically. He turned back to frantically order the driver to execute a U-turn, only to find that seven or eight identical mounted archers had materialized from the whiteout behind them, sealing their retreat. From the flank of the encirclement, a magnificent warhorse stepped forward. Astride the mount sat a young general clad in polished steel armor, casually balancing a massive, intricately painted halberd across his thighs. His posture was wild, arrogant, and entirely unconstrained. Pointing the tip of his halberd directly at the carriage cabin, the young general erupted into a raucous, echoing laugh: "I am Chen Rui of Bingzhou! Young Lord Liu, if you leave the wife of Wei Shao behind, I shall honor your status as a descendant of the imperial Han house and grant you safe passage. I will not make things difficult for you!"
Chen Rui, courtesy name Yunji, was the third son of Chen Xiang, the Governor of Bingzhou. Notoriously cruel and bloodthirsty, he was rumored to have carved out human hearts to serve as delicacies with his wine. The common folk of Bingzhou lived in absolute terror of him. Because he also possessed naturally soft, exquisitely feminine facial features, they gave him the moniker "The Jade-Faced Rakshasa." During the brutal campaign at Boling a month prior, Wei Shao had delivered a catastrophic defeat to the Bingzhou vanguard forces led by Chen Xiang's premier commander, Zhang Jian. Having sustained devastating casualties, Zhang Jian had been forced to retreat westward. During the chaotic rout, Chen Rui had been separated from the main army. Thanks to the suicidal defense of his personal retainers, he had managed to break through the encirclement, though he was left with fewer than twenty elite archers under his direct command. Young, hot-headed, and fiercely competitive, Chen Rui had always enjoyed his father's immense favoritism and had long refused to accept Wei Shao's military supremacy. Before setting out for Boling, he had arrogantly boasted to his father that he would capture Wei Shao alive. To have suffered such a humiliating defeat instead left him utterly ashamed to return home. Consumed by bitter resentment, he had been loitering within the border territories, searching for a vulnerability. He had subsequently caught wind of Wei Shao's sudden marriage to the Qiao daughter of Yanzhou. Realizing that the intensifying winter freeze meant he could gain no further advantage by lingering, he had been preparing to slip back to Bingzhou when, to his utter astonishment, scouts reported that Wei Shao was sending his new bride north to Youzhou on the literal day after the wedding. Upon receiving the intelligence, Chen Rui had tracked the procession relentlessly. However, because he was deeply paranoid of Wei Liang—whose monstrous martial prowess was feared across the northern plains—he had never dared to draw too close, let alone initiate an ambush. He had never anticipated that Wei Liang would commit such a catastrophic oversight, allowing Liu Yan to strike first. To have an opportunistic plum like this fall directly into his lap was a stroke of divine fortune. How could he not throw his head back and laugh with pure malice?
Seeing that the occupants of the carriage made no move to comply, Chen Rui’s face darkened instantly. He raised a single hand and delivered a curt signal. The mounted archers loosed their strings. Amidst a succession of sharp, whistling sounds, a chorus of agonized screams erupted from outside the cabin as Liu Yan’s personal retainers were struck down by the rain of arrows, collapsing into the blood-stained snow.
Inside the carriage, when the vehicle had initially ground to a halt, Xiao Qiao had briefly harbored a desperate hope that Wei Liang had managed to track them down. But cold logic told her it was virtually impossible for the general to have caught up so quickly. Now, listening to the incessant, guttural groans of dying men outside, her heart began to hammer frantically against her ribs. Beside her, Liu Yan’s expression had turned utterly skeletal. His right hand gripped the hilt of his longsword so tightly that the veins across the back of his hand bulged like thick cords.
The Chen clan of Bingzhou and Wei Shao were mortal enemies who had just concluded a bloody campaign at Boling; she was acutely aware of this political reality.
If her fate was to fall into the hands of the monstrous Chen clan, she would infinitely prefer to remain a captive of Liu Yan.
A heavy crunch of footsteps approached the vehicle. The wooden door was violently ripped open from the outside, revealing an extraordinarily fair, jade-like countenance. The intruder appeared to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, his dark hair gathered beneath a gleaming golden crown, his waist cinched by a luxurious leather belt adorned with a golden lion motif. The moment Chen Rui’s eyes fell upon Xiao Qiao, who was shrinking back behind Liu Yan’s frame, his entire body went rigid. He stood frozen at the threshold, his gaze locked onto her face as if his very soul had been torn from his flesh.
Liu Yan was furious. Drawing his steel blade with a deafening ring, he pointed the razor-sharp tip directly at Chen Rui’s face, roaring, "General Chen! My Langya territory has historically maintained a policy of non-interference with your Bingzhou borders! What justification do you have for executing such a lawless intervention today?"
Chen Rui had certainly heard the legendary rumors celebrating the breathtaking beauty of the younger Qiao daughter, but he had dismissed them as romantic exaggerations. Never could he have envisioned that a creature of such transcendent radiance truly walked the earth. A single look had left him completely spellbound. Snapping back to his senses at the sound of Liu Yan's fury, the young general showed no anger. He extended a casual finger to carelessly flick the tip of the sword away from his face, tilting his chin up with a mocking sneer. "Young Lord Liu, the forces at my back outnumber your surviving men tenfold. Had it not been for the thin shred of respect I harbor for your imperial Han bloodline, do you truly believe I would have allowed you to retain your breath today?"
Chen Rui’s mounted archers swarmed the carriage, more than a dozen fully drawn bows aligning their steel tips directly at Liu Yan’s chest.
"I advise you to recognize the flow of the current. This peerless beauty never belonged to your house to begin with. For me to claim her today cannot be considered an offense against your honor. Step down from the carriage, and leave the vehicle for the Lady of the Yan Marquis. The winter wind is fierce today; I certainly cannot bear to see her freeze."
With a sudden, explosive strike, Chen Rui wrenched the sword cleanly out of Liu Yan’s grip. Before the Heir could mount a defense, several burly archers surged into the cabin, pinning his limbs and violently dragging him down into the snow. Casting a final, burning look at the trembling Xiao Qiao inside the cabin, Chen Rui erupted into a triumphant laugh. He slammed the heavy door shut with a resounding bang, vaulted onto his warhorse, and barked a thunderous command: "This location remains unsafe for a prolonged stay! Move out!"
"Chen Rui! If you dare to lay a single finger upon her, I, Liu Yan, swear an eternal, irreconcilable enmity against your entire bloodline—"
His eyes nearly splitting with absolute fury, Liu Yan scrambled to his feet and sprinted after the accelerating column. But his unarmored strides were no match for the speed of the warhorses. Within dozens of paces, his foot caught on a hidden root, and he plunged face-first into the freezing snow. For an eternity, he remained pinned to the ground before slowly, painfully dragging himself into a half-kneeling posture. Staring blankly at the distant horizon where the carriage was rapidly disappearing into the white void, his entire frame shuddered violently. His eyes burned a deep, bloodshot crimson, his features twisted into a horrific grimace that was half-weeping, half-laughing.
By the time Wei Liang finally tracked the trail to this crossroad, the dark pools of blood and the heavy ruts left by the carriage had already been completely buried beneath a fresh, thick layer of falling snow. The only evidence left behind of the skirmish was a few shattered arrowheads sticking loosely out of the white drifts.
A short while earlier, a passing traveler had delivered a terrifying message into his hands, claiming that a mysterious entity had requested him to convey a warning: The Lady of the Yan Marquis has fallen into the hands of Chen Rui of Bingzhou. When Wei Liang had frantically attempted to interrogate the traveler for further specifics, the man had sworn he knew absolutely nothing else.
He had already dispatched his swiftest riders to ride day and night without pause to carry the catastrophic news back to Xindu to inform Wei Shao; the Marquis would likely receive the report within a day or two.
Even as he consumed himself with intense self-reproach and guilt over his catastrophic oversight, Wei Liang stared anxiously into the distant, frozen expanses.
The scouts he had deployed to scour the surrounding territory for any signs of Chen Rui's column began to return in rapid succession. One scout reported having spotted a heavily guarded carriage fleeing rapidly toward the southwest.
Drawing upon his extensive tactical experience, Wei Liang deduced the trajectory instantly. Chen Rui was undoubtedly carrying the young lady toward Shiyi County, located several hundred li away. Shiyi was a heavily fortified border city sitting precisely at the closest boundary line between Wei Shao's vanguard and Chen Xiang's territory—and it was currently garrisoned by a massive, formidable army of Bingzhou troops.