Nonsense! She’s Not a Bad Woman! - Chapter 29

Qiao Wanyan took an arrow to the shoulder.

The excruciating pain—something she had never experienced before—instantly drained all the color from her face. Cold sweat streamed down her forehead as her legs faltered beneath her.

Just as everyone rushed toward her, the assassin who had been held at sword-point suddenly took advantage of the distraction and charged straight at Qiao Wanyan. With the last of his strength, he shoved her off the cliff.

He Zhiyu immediately lunged forward to save her—but was stopped in his tracks by Qiao Yihuan, who grabbed him tightly and refused to let go.

Qiao Wanyan’s pupils shrank to pinpoints as her body fell backward uncontrollably. Her hands flailed, desperately grasping for anything to hold onto—and in that brief moment, she vaguely felt herself catch hold of a hand.

Qiao Yihuan screamed in panic: “Qi Yun! Wanyan!”

The two of them fell off the cliff together.

Ziyan bolted toward the edge, intending to jump after them without hesitation, but Jing Yuan caught her just in time.

Ziyan’s hands trembled uncontrollably. “Miss… Miss fell…!”

The assassin who had pushed Qiao Wanyan off the cliff laughed maniacally.

“If I can’t rescue my foster father and I have to die here anyway, then I’ll take a few more down with me! Hahahaha!”

Back in Qingzhou City, he had been secretly watching. That girl he just pushed off the cliff had once ridden the same horse with the Crown Prince and had even been carried back to the inn in his arms. On their return journey to the capital, she had shared a carriage with him—clearly their relationship was no ordinary one.

The Crown Prince hadn’t yet taken a consort. Odds were, this girl was either his favored concubine or mistress!

If he couldn’t save his foster father and couldn’t kill the Crown Prince, then killing the woman he loved would be the next best thing—to drag her down with him into the grave!

Watching the Crown Prince’s expression twist in fury, the assassin felt immense satisfaction.

He Zhiyu stepped forward, sword in hand, his eyes as cold as winter frost.

One step after another, he closed in on the assassin—and without hesitation, drove his blade straight through the man’s throat.

Blood spurted everywhere, staining He Zhiyu from head to toe.

Qiao Yihuan’s heart skipped a beat. She had never seen His Highness like this before.

Was it all for Qiao Wanyan?

Did he truly care so deeply for her?

A cold voice, laced with ice and rage, spilled from He Zhiyu’s lips. “Where is the one who fired the arrow from the shadows?”

Just as Jing Yuan was about to speak, a black-tailed youth emerged from the shadows, dragging behind him a dead assassin dressed in black.

The corpse’s chest had been savagely torn open—bloody and mangled beyond recognition. The scene made everyone feel as though a cold wind had swept over their feet.

Lu Jinye’s gaze—chilling and razor-sharp—swept past Qiao Yihuan. Without a word, he turned, mounted the horse beside him, and rode off at full gallop.

He Zhiyu recognized the youth. That was Qiao Wanyan’s personal guard.

And the direction he rode in—was toward the bottom of the cliff.

“Send half the guards down to search the base of the cliff. Jing Yuan, you’ll personally escort Li Xiao back to the capital—there must be no delay.”

Jing Yuan objected, “Your Highness, someone else can retrieve Young Lord Qi and Second Miss Qiao. You should remain here—”

But he was cut off mid-sentence.

“This is an order, not a discussion.”

Jing Yuan bowed his head immediately. “Your subordinate was out of line. I’ll see it done.”

He Zhiyu turned to escort Qiao Yihuan back to the carriage. “Yihuan, it’s not safe here. Go back to Yongzhou with Jing Yuan.”

But Qiao Yihuan shook her head. “I want to stay and search with Your Highness. I’m worried about Wanyan and Qi Yun. Even if you send me back, I wouldn’t be able to sit still.”

He Zhiyu had no choice but to relent, bringing her along with him toward the bottom of the cliff.

Qiao Yihuan followed behind, her fingertips trembling.

What had she done?

She had only wanted to block the arrow for His Highness—so how did things end up like this…?

Did… Qiao Wanyan just get pushed off the cliff?

Qiao Yihuan bit her lip, the scales of her conscience swinging violently in her heart.

But…

But if Qiao Wanyan really died, wouldn’t that mean no one would be left to compete with her for His Highness’s favor?

Yet if Qiao Wanyan survived—and told His Highness that she was the one who pushed her—what then?

Qiao Yihuan’s thoughts were in chaos, a tangled mess that left her on the verge of collapse.

Xiaoying, seeing the unrest in her lady’s eyes, swallowed back the thousand words she wanted to say.

She had always wished for her young mistress to grow a spine—to stop being so meek and let others walk all over her.

But just now, when she saw her push Second Miss off the cliff…

She had to admit—for a moment—she didn’t even recognize her lady anymore.

…

The wind howled past his ears like knives, slicing cold and sharp against his skin.

But Lu Jinye didn’t slow down. He spurred his horse forward, galloping madly toward the bottom of the cliff.

The sky had grown dark, and the dropping temperature only deepened his unease.

If Qiao Wanyan were dead, he would have felt it—he was sure of that.

The fact that he was still alive meant she had to be as well.

But falling from a cliff that high—if the fall didn’t kill her, that arrow in her shoulder might.

She was a pampered noble lady, used to luxury and comfort.

If her wound wasn’t treated in time, she wouldn’t survive the night.

He had to move faster.

Faster.

At that moment, He Yanli—who had already left Yongzhou and was secretly en route back to the capital—received a sealed letter.

He opened it casually, but the moment his eyes scanned its contents, his expression changed drastically.

A violent tremor surged through his body, his blood turning cold as a buzzing sound filled his head.

The metallic taste of blood rose in his throat—he coughed up a mouthful on the spot.

Mo Xiao was horrified. “Your Highness! Are you alright?”

But He Yanli didn’t utter a single word.

He turned and ran from the post station, leapt onto his horse, and sped off toward the south.

Heavy snow began to fall, thick and fast.

Through the darkness of the night, his steed galloped on without rest.

What was he afraid of?

What… exactly, was he so afraid of?

He Yanli clenched the reins tightly, his heart pounding with unspoken dread.

And then it came to him.

He was afraid…

Afraid that the cold-hearted woman who once betrayed him hadn’t died by his hand!

…

Qiao Wanyan’s consciousness slowly returned.

Before she even opened her eyes, pain shot through every inch of her body, as if her bones had shattered entirely.

Then came the stabbing agony from her shoulder—so intense that her delicate face scrunched up tightly.

“…Ow.”

She forced her eyelids open.

Above her was a tattered, unfamiliar roof.

Even the slightest movement sent fresh waves of pain crashing over her, cold sweat dripping down her temples.

So she gave up trying to sit up.

Instead, she tilted her head as best she could, scanning her surroundings within her limited view.

She was lying on several wooden planks.

Nearby, a fire crackled and spat, the warmth seeping weakly into the air.

Across the fire sat Jiang Qiyun—still dressed in mourning clothes.

Qiao Wanyan almost cried on the spot.

This is bad. Bai Wuchang looks exactly like someone I know. Talk about bad luck!

Jiang Qiyun: “…”

“You alright?” he asked with a sigh. “I should be the one complaining here. I got dragged off a cliff by you and now I’m stuck suffering like this.”

Thankfully, the base of the cliff had a river.

He’d nearly broken all his bones from the fall and still had to carry this girl—who’d passed out like a dead dog—all the way to shelter.

He finally found a long-abandoned hut.

Hoping to find dry clothes to change out of his soaked ones, all he could find were a few sets of mourning garments.

And now, this shameless woman had the nerve to say he was bad luck.

Qiao Wanyan blinked, her voice still stuffy with congestion. “I’m alive? I actually survived a fall from that height?”

“Maybe I really am the chosen one! The heavens won’t take me yet!”

Jiang Qiyun’s mouth twitched.

He leaned over and placed the back of his hand on her forehead—feverish. Very.

He muttered, “Well then, you’d better start preparing… for a future career as a lunatic.”