Chapter 9: A Body of a Noble Lady

If time could flow backward, she would never have chosen to flee at that moment, nor would she have fled in that direction. Perhaps this is what the Buddhists often say: the causes planted in a previous life are the fruits reaped in this one; no matter how time ebbs and flows, what is meant to be met will eventually be met.

In an instant, the bright candlelight illuminated the entire hall, and the crowd gradually quieted down. The madam had already rushed onto the stage in a fit of rage, scanning her surroundings.

The transition from darkness to light happened in a mere instant, but having grown accustomed to the dark, she closed her eyes upon encountering the light. It took half a moment to adjust before she slowly opened her eyelids; at this moment, she was slumped atop a man dressed in black.

Her heart trembled slightly at this color. In her memory, that person often wore black and carried an overbearing aura—could it be such a coincidence? In that moment, she almost forgot she was still fleeing, and she actually felt a flicker of fear to look up and see who was embracing her.

"Good." A low, husky voice drifted into her ear, carrying a hint of wicked playfulness within its depth. Though it was only a single word, it seemed to carry a fatal temptation, bewitching one's mind and drawing it in involuntarily, yet failing to provoke even a shred of resistance.

Her body began to tremble uncontrollably—tension, excitement, but perhaps more so, hatred...

No one could understand her current state of mind better than herself. Her fists had long been clenched tight as she slowly raised her head to gaze at the man before her.

He wore a long black robe embroidered with gold patterns, the luxurious fabric faintly shimmering. A mass of ink-colored hair was bound within a white jade crown. Beneath exquisitely refined brows lay a pair of narrow eyes, all sharp brilliance contained within them.

His thin lips were often pressed firmly together, and his handsome face was sharply defined. He was still the same as in the past—cold, arrogant, and overbearing—yet simply by standing there, he radiated a proud aura that seemed to command the heavens and the earth.

He was still as handsome and solitary as before, but she was no longer herself. She had long since changed her face, and changed her heart as well.

She couldn't help but smile bitterly, thinking to herself how fate plays tricks on people.

If they were destined, they would clearly be husband and wife sharing a bed, only to be sentenced to burning at the stake by his single command; if they were not destined, through reincarnation and rebirth, amidst such a coincidence, out of so many people, she had specifically fallen into his arms.

From the moment she saw him, her eyes saw only his cold and heartless appearance from that time. Back then, she had been bound to a high wooden stake, watching the bright yellow imperial carriage approach from afar and stop not far in front of her.

She watched him assist a woman dressed in flamboyant attire as she stepped down from the carriage. That had once been her exclusive position, but now it had been replaced by another.

The man's indifferent face and narrow eyes merely arched slightly; his bright yellow dragon robe further enhanced his imposing presence. She watched him quietly, an expression that was strikingly similar to their first meeting.

"You still came." A flash of longing rose in her eyes—not a longing for life, but a longing for his trust in her.

"It is only because Qiu Lan thought of our sisterhood and wished to see you off." His voice was cold, devoid of any warmth, and he did not even mention himself.

She glanced slightly to the side and saw the woman bowing her head beside him wearing a secret smile. When she raised her head again, the woman's expression had already changed. She did not care for the woman's hypocrisy.

When she was framed for using witchcraft to harm others, she did not cry; when she was thrown into the dungeon and shackled, she did not cry; even when she was bound at the execution grounds under the gaze of ten thousand people, she still did not cry.

It was only when he spoke in a heavy voice, refusing to believe her, and at the moment he ordered the execution, that she cried hysterically.

In a lifetime, having experienced such heart-wrenching pain once is enough; perhaps that was the only time. She had vanished into the flames, leaving only regrets behind.

A raging fire suddenly ignited within her eyes. At this moment, she forgot her usual calm and composed self; hatred grew like madness, and she also forgot that she was still in the middle of an escape.

When the madam saw that she had not escaped the hall, her hanging heart finally settled. "Someone, come quickly and bring our beauty back!" The madam's face was covered in smiles, and the others did not think much of it, assuming it was merely part of the plan.

Two burly men walked toward Jiu Qing. Jiu Qing realized in a flash that her escape had failed.

Looking at the two men walking toward her, she now had two choices: either go back with the madam and wait for the upcoming night of debauchery, or beg Su Qianyin to save her. But he was her enemy. Now, on one side were wolves, and on the other, tigers and leopards.

A person who was usually decisive actually hesitated at this moment. It was during this hesitation that the two men drew close.

The person encircling her waist never let go. The madam frowned deeply; looking at that man, it was clear at a glance that he was no easy person to deal with. His hand remained around Jiu Qing's waist—could this dead girl have an old flame?

Based on her years of struggling in the martial world, her intuition told her this person was extraordinary. She was acquainted with most of the wealthy merchants and noble officials in Shengjing, but this man in black was so overbearing that merely standing there gave off an aura that made people feel intimidated.

The fabric of his clothing was also of the highest quality; why had she never seen such a rare individual before?

For a moment, the madam gripped the handkerchief in her hand tightly. She knew well that there were some people one simply could not afford to offend, but thinking of the "Flower Queen Night" she had prepared for so long, she thought that if she had known, she wouldn't have replaced the original Flower Queen for this dead girl.

This was bad; she might have truly offended some formidable figure, and everything she had painstakingly built could turn into nothingness. Just as the madam was about to call people back, she thought again.

What if she was wrong? What if this person was just all show and no substance? Then wouldn't her "cooked duck" fly away? While Jiu Qing struggled, the madam also underwent a fierce internal struggle.

Finally, she made up her mind: fortune is sought amidst danger. The status she held today was not something she had achieved without fighting. Life was a gamble after all, so she did not call them off.

The others in the venue also did not know why their heartbeats accelerated at this moment. The observant had already noticed that the situation had shifted slightly; it did not seem to be part of the madam's prior arrangement.

A grand show was about to begin.

The two burly men were also frightened by this inexplicable and eerie atmosphere, their backs drenched in cold sweat. Although the man had not spoken a word until now, whenever they met those eyes as black as obsidian, it felt as if their hearts were being struck by something.

This was the sensation humans experience when facing terror—indescribable, yet they did not dare disobey the madam's wishes, and could only grit their teeth and walk forward step by step.

"One thousand taels." Just as the two were about to reach out and grab Jiu Qing, the man spoke.