On the day of Xiao Lin and Ye Bingshang’s grand wedding, Yang Ruo dragged herself out of bed, legs trembling, dark circles carved beneath her eyes. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a week—and probably hadn’t. With no other choice, she put on the first full makeup since transmigrating, just to cover her sickly pallor.
The moment she stepped into the crimson-draped main hall, the air thick with festivity, she felt no joy. Only the heavy, solemn weight of a prisoner walking to the execution ground.
She forced herself to take a few deep breaths, steadying her nerves. Her heart was still hammering against her ribs, but at least on the surface, she appeared composed—normal, even.
After bowing in greeting with Ye, the general, and the rest of the noble families, the ceremony began.
Tan Jin was nowhere to be seen. Yang Ruo figured he was off arranging his crows.
Everyone else immersed themselves in the merriment of the wedding banquet. Only she sat stiff, mind wandering, heart restless. Every passing second gnawed at her, the anticipation worse than death itself.
For a death-row prisoner, the most terrifying moment isn’t when the blade falls. It’s the eternal stretch right before it does.
Sure enough, it began. A talking crow swooped into the hall. Just like in the original plot, the Fifth Prince, Xiao Liang, leaned in to investigate—only to have one eye viciously pecked out. Blood spilled from the gaping hole. The joyous hall dissolved into chaos.
Tan Jin’s hunt had begun.
Yang Ruo’s panic froze, replaced by grim calm. Everything was proceeding exactly as in the drama. The only difference? This time, the body that should’ve belonged to Li Susu was occupied by her.
Ye Zeyu was immediately mobbed by crows. Yang Ruo didn’t bother worrying—he wouldn’t die here. That lazy, worthless Young Master of the Ye family could use a good thrashing.
She ducked into a shadowed corner, clutching her prepared talisman papers, ready to defend herself if necessary.
The chaos spread like wildfire. Guests shrieked and shoved toward the exits as crows swarmed, tearing the wedding hall apart.
That was when Yang Ruo spotted it—a heart-clenching sight.
A little girl in pink had lost her parents in the crush and was shoved to the ground, about to be trampled beneath panicked feet.
No time to think. Lightning-fast, Yang Ruo dashed forward, scooped the girl into her arms, and rolled them both to safety.
Unfortunately, fate never gave her a break. A handful of crows, chased by the crowd, wheeled sharply in her direction.
Her breath caught. Cold sweat slid down her back. Idiot! You forgot—you’re on Tan Jin’s revenge list! Anyone you hold will get dragged down with you!
But where could she leave the child?
The hall was nothing but shrieking guests, flapping wings, blood, and feathers. She pressed a hand gently over the girl’s eyes so she wouldn’t see the carnage.
She was trapped.
Then, through the chaos, Yang Ruo spotted Xiao Lin and Ye Bingshang cutting a path through the mob. Xiao Lin’s sword flashed as he slashed crows mid-flight.
With no hesitation, Yang Ruo forced her way toward them, sweat streaming down her forehead. She held out the child to Ye Bingshang.
“Big Sister, please take care of this little one. Today’s guests are all nobles—if something happens to her, it won’t look good. You’ll be fine; I believe in you.”
Her words carried a hidden warning: Don’t abandon the girl. At the same time, she tossed in reassurance, because she already knew how the story would go.
As Ye Bingshang accepted the girl, Yang Ruo shoved a handful of talisman papers into her hands. “The Sixth Prince knows how to use these.” There was no time to explain.
Xiao Lin recognized them instantly—the same defensive talismans Ye Xiwu had once discussed with Pang Yizhi.
Yang Ruo didn’t wait. After bowing in thanks, she vanished into the crowd, her figure swallowed up in seconds. Xiao Lin frowned, glancing after her, then gritted his teeth and led Ye Bingshang and the girl toward the side hall.
…
With the protective Heartscale passed to Ye Bingshang and a circle of barrier talismans laid around her and the rescued girl, the two were safe—for now. Unless they willingly stepped out, no one could breach the circle for the next four hours.
Xiao Lin reassured Ye Bingshang before turning back into the chaos, sword flashing. Because he’d crossed paths with Ye Xiwu just moments earlier, her absence weighed on him.
But after combing the manor, saving guest after guest, he never once saw her again.
She must’ve slipped out with the crowd, he thought.
Meanwhile, Tan Jin, orchestrating his crow assault from the rear courtyard, suddenly caught a ripple of strange spiritual energy nearby. His senses sharpened.
Whoever dared uncover his secret tonight would not leave alive.
The disturbance came from the side chamber where Ye Bingshang sheltered the young girl.
The protective Heartscale barrier had inexplicably dropped. The shimmering shield of scales vanished.
Ye Bingshang stiffened, nerves strung tight. She felt someone approaching the door. Find the newest release on novel(ꜰ)ire.net
The little girl in her arms trembled, too scared to even cry.
Together, they stared in dread at the door as it creaked open.
Tan Jin stepped inside.
The uneasy wind tugged at his hair. Dressed head to toe in crow-black, Tan Jin bore no trace of injury. A few crows perched idly at his side, calm and docile—completely unlike the frenzied murder flock outside, as though they weren’t even the same species.
Ye Bingshang’s heart clenched. Something was wrong.
“So it was you…” she whispered, instinctively retreating a step.
A mysterious smile curved across Tan Jin’s lips—half faint amusement, half the cruel delight of a predator toying with prey. Just as he stepped forward, a sudden green glow erupted, stopping him cold.
A wooden-spirit warding barrier—
He recognized it instantly. Ye Xiwu had drawn such runes before.
A circle of talisman papers had been laid across the floor, their brushstrokes unmistakably hers.
“Where did you get these talismans?” His voice dropped to a cutting chill.
Ye Bingshang swallowed hard, terror rising. “M-My… my second sister gave them to me.”
“She?” His eyes narrowed. Why would Ye Xiwu give her talismans? Hadn’t their relationship always been strained?
“I… I don’t know.” Flustered, she stammered, then added quickly, “M-Maybe because she asked me to watch over a little girl, too. She was worried for our safety, so she gave me the charms.”
Tan Jin’s gaze flicked to the unfamiliar child and the glowing runes. With a low scoff, he turned on his heel and strode out the door.
A moment later, the crows lingering inside rasped in strange, broken voices:
“Keep the secret… and live.”
Ye Bingshang’s legs gave out. Shaking with fear, she clutched the child tighter. The terror finally overcame her, and the two of them sank into uneasy sleep.
…
Yang Ruo didn’t flee with the panicked crowd. Instead, she slipped through a side door where the chaos thinned. Ahead lay a narrow gate leading out into a snowy grove, silver blossoms shimmering in the wind. Beyond it was freedom—a world without a prewritten plot.
She stared. If I walk through that gate… I don’t have to be Ye Xiwu anymore. If everyone thinks I’m dead, won’t I finally be safe?
The sweet taste of freedom pulled at her.
Meanwhile, Tan Jin returned to the front hall. Through the eyes of his crows, he searched—but Ye Xiwu was nowhere.
He clicked his tongue. In the ecstasy of revenge, he’d forgotten to keep her under surveillance.
She carried too many riddles. He needed her alive to solve them. That was why he hadn’t unleashed the flock to tear her apart tonight.
Did she already run back to the Ye manor?
An unease gnawed at him. Every time it came to this woman, the story veered off its predestined track. In their past life, she’d at least pretended to save him. This time, she hadn’t even bothered. Why?
When Tan Jin finally returned to the Ye estate, he found not rest but turmoil. Soldiers swarmed the gates. Something had happened.
Ye Xiao spotted him, brows furrowing like drawn swords. “Where were you during the chaos? Ye Xiwu is missing! As her husband, you didn’t even keep an eye on her? If she comes to harm, you won’t keep your head!”
With a shrill neigh, Ye Xiao mounted his prized steed from the Western Regions and galloped off, soldiers thundering behind in a city-wide search.
News spread too fast to contain: Ye Xiwu had vanished. All of Shengdu soon knew.
At the Ye estate, the old matriarch wept openly. “My poor girl… someone must have harmed her. Otherwise, how could she just disappear? Has the General returned? Any word of my Xiwu?”
A servant lowered his head. “Not yet, Old Madam.”
Her sobs deepened. Then another servant, less tactful, muttered, “People are whispering, Old Madam… saying the young son-in-law and the Second Miss were never on good terms. Maybe it was the son-in-law who harmed her—”
“Enough!” The old lady’s tears turned to fury. Her gaze sharpened like a blade. “Whoever dares spread such poison again will be cast out of this house! I will not hear such talk under this roof!”
The servant collapsed to his knees. “Y-Yes, Old Madam!”
…
Tan Jin sent his crows scouring all of Shengdu. Still, no trace of Ye Xiwu.
He sneered. So I underestimated her after all…
She could draw talismans now. A concealment charm, a diversion array—trivial for her.
Rumors churned through the manor like wildfire, only to be smothered by force. But Tan Jin had no patience for gossip. Instead, he buried himself in the archives, combing through Daoist scrolls of talisman lore. Somewhere in these pages lies the answer to the methods she used to cloak herself so thoroughly.
…
Far beyond the city, twenty li out, Yang Ruo crouched atop an unremarkable hill. She’d chosen this hiding place carefully. Remote, dull, and easily overlooked—the perfect spot to bury treasure.
Grunting, she pried at the dirt with a sturdy branch. If she could dig up the silver she’d stashed here, she could vanish, start over, and live free.
Excitement drove her on. A new life was within reach.
A concealment talisman stuck to her forehead blurred her presence, making her near-invisible.
But she was digging too hard, too fast, sweat soaking the paper until the charm weakened.
From the eyes of his crows, Tan Jin finally spotted her. Digging. Running. Trying to slip free of fate.
He ordered the crows to tail her, then swung into the saddle and spurred his horse toward the hills.
Meanwhile, Yang Ruo had barely managed to unearth half her buried hoard before collapsing in exhaustion. She flopped onto the slope, chest heaving.
Not long after, the ground began to tremble beneath the pounding of hooves.
She snapped upright, every nerve on edge.
In the night’s shadows, she couldn’t make out the rider’s face.
But that voice—deep, venomous—was burned into her bones.
“Ye Xiwu—so you’ve grown bolder.” Tan Jin’s words dripped with malice.
Yang Ruo’s neck shrank into her shoulders, gooseflesh rising. Heavens above, does anyone have a teleportation talisman handy? A random rescue mission coupon? Anything to save my pitiful life right now?
Did he really hate her this much? She’d already done him the courtesy of running away—wasn’t that good enough? She wasn’t going to show up in front of him ever again! Why in the middle of the night was he hunting her down on some godforsaken hill?
Is he deranged?!
Her body sagged in defeat, slumping like a condemned criminal resigned to execution.
If Tan Jin could hear her thoughts right now, he’d be treated to an unbroken string of curses more colorful than anything he’d heard in his entire life.
Fortunately, he couldn’t. And thankfully, he never would.
He swung off his horse and, without a word, seized her wrist, dragging her firmly toward his mount.
Yang Ruo gave a last-ditch struggle, wailing, “What are you doing? If you want to kill me, kill me! If you want to flay me, then do it! Just don’t torture me anymore!”
Tan Jin halted, turned his head, and regarded her with cool indifference. “Who said anything about killing you?”
Yang Ruo almost choked. Who else should I ask, if not you? You’re the devil himself—don’t stand there playing dumb!
But before she could spit that out, the thunder of hooves grew louder.
In moments, armored soldiers surrounded them in a ring of steel.
The commander barked, “Who goes there, making a racket at this hour of night?”
Torches flared, flooding the slope with blazing light.
Yang Ruo squinted against the sudden brightness—when a voice cut through the air and froze her blood.
“Sister?”