Tigers Sniff the Rose - Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Amidst the dense, swirling fog, deep within a forest mottled by flickering light, a young scholar who looked as graceful as a winding mountain stream emerged from the gloom, carrying a stable lantern.

His gaze was lowered, and as he offered a slight smile, the clean, refined air about him—much like flowing water and faint mist—caused the rough, rugged guards following Princess Danyang to collectively perk up.

The reason for his ability to captivate both men and women alike was actually quite simple.

The fact that Yan the Second Son could walk right up to them meant he had broken through the "ghost wall."

Furthermore, as a native of Lingnan, the deep forest that had left the Princess and her party trapped was a place the scholar could likely navigate with ease.

It was in this surge of hope that Yan Shisheng walked up to Mu Wanyao. He was not exactly strolling through a garden; after all, he was just an ordinary scholar.

Under Mu Wanyao’s cold scrutiny, she observed that although the scholar appeared calm, his lapels, sleeves, and cuffs were covered in fine bits of grass and debris.

He had been stumbling and trudging through the mountains; he didn't look any more comfortable than they were!

Mu Wanyao watched him coldly.

Yan Shisheng stared at her for a moment before bowing deeply:

"This humble student pays respects to Your Highness the Princess!"

Your Highness the Princess!

The complexions of those around them shifted once more.

Mu Wanyao’s expression changed too, and an instant wariness toward Yan Shisheng took root. The dagger she had been clutching was drawn in a flash. Just as Yan Shisheng finished his salute and straightened up, he was pushed back, staggering two steps, the blade of the Princess's dagger pressed firmly against his throat.

The guards, including the one named Fang, cried out nervously: "Your Highness!"

If they killed the second Yan son, there would be no one left to lead them out!

Mu Wanyao paid them no mind. Pressing the dagger against Yan Shisheng, she asked bluntly: "How did you know I was the Princess?"

The lantern Yan Shisheng held fell to the ground, its dim, flickering light illuminating the two of them. Mu Wanyao pulled at Yan Shisheng, seeing his face clearly.

His eyelashes were long, his skin fair. He possessed a melancholic, refined beauty, and as the firelight washed over his face, it brought out a strange, ghostly allure, like a spirit of the mountains.

It left Mu Wanyao feeling momentarily dazed.

She heard him let out a bitter laugh, sighing: "Your Highness, you don't really think that after you’ve been missing for so long, everyone would remain indifferent, do you?"

Their gazes locked again.

Mu Wanyao felt her hand being held by him, and she shuddered slightly. The dagger in her hand was gently pushed aside by him. She twitched the corners of her lips, and though she gave a shove to the hand that held her through her sleeve, she did not continue to make things difficult for him—

Yan Shisheng explained that everyone had come out to search for the Princess, and that he was merely lucky enough to have found her.

All the guards, some carrying the injured, others cradling tea trees, came forward to thank Yan Shisheng, feeling that he was their savior on this night.

Mu Wanyao alone remained aloof, her complexion pale, her expression cold. Once the initial hostility was set aside, she didn't even cast a single glance his way.

Such arrogance.

From behind her, Yan Shisheng called out helplessly: "Your Highness, please wait!"

Mu Wanyao’s body fluctuated between chills and fever, her head swimming. She was feeling quite unwell and had no desire to waste time exchanging pleasantries with Yan Shisheng. When he called out to her and stepped in front of her path, she remained expressionless.

At once beautiful and indifferent.

Like a vivid rose blooming before the winds of the abyss, admiring its own beauty in solitude, unwilling to speak of it to others.

Yan Shisheng squatted before her. Mu Wanyao stepped back a pace, then watched as he reached out to pull up a stalk of grass she had been stepping on. Not only that, but he continued to squat on the ground, systematically pulling up many of the surrounding plants one by one.

The grass reached up to their knees, appearing neither quite like grass nor quite like trees, and their leaves spun of their own accord like windmills. No one in the forest paid these plants any mind, yet as Yan Shisheng squatted by Mu Wanyao’s feet, he did not hesitate to tear them all out.

Mu Wanyao was curious: "What are you pulling?"

Yan Shisheng replied gently: "Bewitching Grass."

He looked up at her and said: "Didn't Your Highness say you encountered a 'ghost wall'? I thought about it just now and had a guess. Now that I see this grass, I know for sure. This 'Bewitching Grass' can confuse the mind, making people walk in circles in the same spot, unable to leave, without the person ever realizing it. The so-called 'ghost wall' is mostly the work of these plants.

"The elders here say that when you encounter 'Bewitching Grass' in the wild, you must never rely on luck. You must cut it down."

Mu Wanyao was struck with wonder, and the people behind her sighed with emotion. They never expected Lingnan to be so full of strange things; even a small, seemingly ordinary plant could lead them astray.

Mu Wanyao stared hatefully at the grass Yan Shisheng had pulled up, her expression dark.

Yan Shisheng looked up at her and suddenly laughed: "There is another legend here—the Bewitching Grass only appears when it encounters a beauty."

Mu Wanyao froze.

While still squatting at her feet, his hands stained with mud, he looked up at her: "Your Highness must be a peerless beauty for this 'Bewitching Grass' to be so enchanted that it couldn't bear to let you go, insisting on following you."

Mu Wanyao had been icy, but meeting his gaze for a moment and hearing him use the grass as a pretext to praise her beauty, she held back for as long as she could before finally bursting into a giggle.

And the moment she laughed, the tension between everyone dissipated.

After clearing away the "Bewitching Grass" and continuing their journey, everyone realized they were finally breaking out of that demonic circle. They were able to leave. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they were saved. It truly did take a local to lead the way.

At this point, Yan Shisheng led the way with the lantern, followed by the Princess, and then the guards.

Everyone’s mood lifted.

Mu Wanyao followed behind Yan Shisheng, watching as they moved out of the loop they had been trapped in, her own spirits rising. Relaxing for a moment, the exhaustion of her body caught up with her, and as she followed him, her foot went soft, and she nearly fell.

Mu Wanyao cursed herself silently, but a hand reached out to steady her from beneath.

She shuddered as her hand was touched and pulled away.

Yan Shisheng did not withdraw his hand; his palm remained held upward. Seeing her recoil, his face turned slightly red, but he only looked down at her.

The wild forest was quiet, no one speaking.

The two stared at each other.

Behind them, the guards, unaware and curious why they had stopped, called out: "Second Yan, Your Highness?"

Mu Wanyao said nothing, but she extended her hand, and Yan Shisheng steadied her. Afterward, his hand slid up her arm to support her elbow. He held her this way to prevent her from falling.

The two turned their faces away, both wordless, walking in silence. Only the sweat hidden in their palms and their bodies bumping into each other involuntarily because they lacked any sense of synchronization could reveal the hidden schemes lurking in both their hearts.

Yan Shisheng kept his head down, focusing intently on the uneven ground.

Mu Wanyao raised her eyes to study the mist permeating the void.

The scenery ahead gradually grew clearer, and under Yan Shisheng’s guidance, they walked out of the fog formation.

Seeing the faint, flickering lights of a fire at the foot of the mountain, Mu Wanyao let out a long breath. The ripples in her eyes flowed with a gentle, liquid grace, and her voice sounded languid: "To dare to touch my hand—this is an act of insubordination."

Yan Shisheng whispered: "I am saving you."

Her voice carried a trace of a smile: "It is still insubordination."

Yan Shisheng said: "Then wait until we are safe, Your Highness, and punish me then."

Mu Wanyao wore a look that was half-smile, half-scowl: "Do you think I’m a fool? You’ve become my savior; if I say I want to punish you, what will others think of me? Do you think it’s easy being a princess who returns home after a marriage alliance?"

Yan Shisheng paused.

He lowered his eyes and said softly: "To speak deeply when the acquaintance is shallow is a grave taboo. Your Highness shouldn't be speaking to me of such private matters."

Mu Wanyao reached out and grasped the hand he had been using to support her. He was startled into stillness as he watched her lean in, her beautiful eyes looking down at him, a trail of fragrance drifting his way.

Mu Wanyao gripped his hand, smiling sweetly: "I insist on speaking of it. Yan Shisheng, don't think you can escape anything."

Yan Shisheng’s long lashes fluttered, not understanding what she meant by that.

But before he could ask, he saw the Princess’s body go soft, and she collapsed into his arms. He was utterly shocked, dropping the lantern and scrambling to catch the princess as she fell.

His movements were too rushed; he didn't catch her so much as embrace her and fall to the ground with her. Yan Shisheng only had time to wrap his arms around her shoulders to keep her from hitting the ground.

Cries came from all sides: "Your Highness!"

Amidst the flickering firelight, Yan Shisheng looked up and realized they had already walked out of that desolate wilderness. Several guards below were searching with lanterns, and when the Princess collapsed, everyone below saw it and rushed toward them.

It was clear that Mu Wanyao had been following Yan Shisheng; he had been focused on the path at his feet, while she had spotted the rescue party. It was only upon seeing them that she had safely allowed herself to collapse.

The pathetic one was Yan Shisheng.

He sat on the ground holding her; her face rested against his neck, her breath brushing his throat. With this warm, soft jade in his arms, he was stiff all over, his heart filled with the frustration of having been played.

Yan Shisheng: "Your Highness? Do you really have to do this? If you collapse like this, others will think I did something to you. Isn't this just causing unnecessary misunderstandings? Where are you uncomfortable, Your Highness? Can you hold on a little longer?"

The girl was shaken by his arm, and he urged her to wake up. With so many people swarming around them, Yan Shisheng felt incredibly nervous.

But the Princess of Danyang, who sat in his embrace and rested against his neck with her eyes closed in relief, curled the corner of her lips. The more he shook her, the more mischievous she felt—she wanted to bully him, to torment him.

She scolded: "So noisy!"

Her forehead pressed against his throat, which was burning hot from the stimulation, and she felt a warm breeze on her hair.

With a smile on her lips, her final words before falling into a deep slumber were laced with a hint of allure and teasing: "I insist on tormenting you. Who told you not to tell me where the White Cattle tea tree was, making me find it myself?"

"You deserve it!"

Against her ear, Yan Shisheng finally sounded a bit desperate: "I just saved you!"

He could certainly use his wits against her, but Princess Danyang was, of course, a willful princess.

Held in his arms, Mu Wanyao had already drifted into unconsciousness and could not answer him. Yan Shisheng looked up at the confused guards circling in from all directions, remained silent for a long moment, and let out a long sigh, knowing he had plenty of explaining to do.