Chapter 654: Eighteen-Year-Old Yangyang

The expression of the cheerful waiter, who had been smiling just a moment ago, instantly changed. Without hesitation, he flung the pot of hot wine straight at Zhao Changhe’s face.

At the same time, the patrons who had been chatting amiably moments before suddenly pulled out daggers and viciously thrust them at Zhao Changhe’s kidneys.

But the next moment, everyone froze, their eyes wide with shock.

The steaming wine meant to douse Zhao Changhe’s face seemed to hit an invisible wall. Not only did it fail to reach him, but it rebounded entirely, splashing back onto the waiter’s own face. The man let out a blood-curdling scream as his face melted into a ruined mess. He writhed in agony for only a brief moment before he collapsed lifelessly to the floor.

“Hoh, how poisonous. You’re truly quite vicious,” Zhao Changhe said with a chuckle. With a casual wave of his hand, the daggers reversed their course, plunging back into the hearts of their wielders.

In the blink of an eye, the inn became littered with corpses. A few genuine patrons cowered against the walls, eyes wide and breaths stuck in their throats, too terrified to move.

Zhao Changhe cast a glance at them, then calmly sat back in his seat. With a flick of his hand, he pulled over a nearby wine flagon, pouring himself a drink and sipping it leisurely. “I know not all of you are actual patrons. Some of the rats are still hiding. But I can’t be bothered to figure out who’s who, so just do me a favor... Pass on a message to Snow Owl for me.”

No one dared respond.

“You wish to assassinate the imperial court’s envoy to the Cui Clan and sabotage the negotiations? Save yourselves the trouble. The Cui Clan isn’t stupid, and neither is the empress. If you’re going to ambush an envoy, you better send someone capable. If a big shot like Snow Owl himself doesn’t show up, it’s pointless. But honestly, even he doesn’t have the guts to come for my throat.”

Still, no one spoke.

In truth, the assassins were not targeting Zhao Changhe specifically. No mortal force had the capability to assassinate Zhao Changhe anymore unless the likes of Timur or Snow Owl personally intervened. Their ambush had been laid for a generic envoy dispatched from the capital to Qinghe. The plan was simple: kill the envoy and ensure both sides blamed each other, causing the talks to collapse before they even began.

How could they have known that the first envoy they would encounter would be the Asura King himself? If they had known, they would not have bothered coming at all...

Who would believe that Zhao Changhe, now such a high-profile figure, would still dare roam the

jianghu

alone? Even harder to believe was that Xia Chichi, Tang Wanzhuang, and Zhao Changhe himself all thought this was perfectly normal; if he did not dare to venture out to the

jianghu

, then who would?

Even now, the assassins had no idea who this yellow-faced man was.

“This is my message for Snow Owl,” Zhao Changhe said, finishing his wine and setting the flagon down with a sharp clink. “Find a woman and lose your virginity. Maybe then you’ll develop a bit more manhood and stop obsessing over other men’s asses all the time.”

With that, Zhao Changhe rose and strode out of the inn.

The attempted assassination was nothing more than a minor episode for Zhao Changhe. It was less harrowing than his earliest days in the

jianghu

, yet it quashed his intentions to observe and gather information along the way. After all, this attack might not have been orchestrated by the Snow-Listening Pavilion.

Although Zhao Changhe named Snow Owl, his words were a deliberate feint, intended to mislead everyone. The true culprits were more likely the Wang, Yang, or Li Clans—or maybe even the Cui Clan itself. Even if the Snow-Listening Pavilion was involved, they were merely hired hands.

This meant that there was no time to waste. The Cui Clan’s direction was not solely determined by Cui Wenjing; he could not ignore the collective will of the other family members. The tides of circumstance pushed everyone along, with no exceptions.

As Zhao Changhe galloped through the snowy night, he glanced back over his shoulder, feeling an unexpected pang of nostalgia.

The jianghu used to be... entertaining.

Now, even the mental effort to unravel schemes seemed unnecessary. His Qi Observation Technique clearly revealed the cultivation levels and malicious intentions of those around him. What had been gained in safety had come at the cost of excitement.

Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.

* * *

As Zhao Changhe rode through the night, he passed several cities along the way, all with their gates firmly shut. While it was normal for city gates to be closed at night, the heightened vigilance of guards on the walls and the tall watchtowers was anything but ordinary.

They were clearly ready for war; they were facing north, prepared to defend against anything that came from the capital.

Zhao Changhe did not attempt to enter the cities. Instead, he rode around them, his mood growing heavier with each passing moment.

The Cui Clan was clearly fully prepared. This situation appeared to be rapidly heading toward the worst-case scenario. In essence, he was no longer visiting his fiancée’s family to discuss a marriage alliance; he was stepping into the tiger’s den.

He could not help but wonder how Yangyang was faring in such a tense atmosphere... Was the little bunny crying her eyes out?

* * *

By morning, snow was falling heavily.

Snow-Treading Crow trudged through the thick drifts of snow, carrying Zhao Changhe to the outskirts of Qinghe.

At least the city was not sealed during the day, and civilians were still allowed entry. As Zhao Changhe rode up to the gates, a group of guards stepped forward to block his path. “Dismount! Show your travel permit! Uh... you...”

During the journey, Zhao Changhe had kept a low profile, concealing his identity. But now, there was no need to keep hiding who he was. A mere envoy would only face unnecessary obstacles, delays, or outright denial of entry. And if things escalated, his identity would be exposed anyway, making such precautions pointless. It was better to reveal his hand upfront.

Long before reaching the gates, Zhao Changhe had removed his disguise.

The guards stared at his scarred face, their grips tightening on their spears as they instinctively stepped back in unison. “Zhao...”

The weight of his name—and the reputation behind it—was clear. Yet none of them could bring themselves to utter it. After an awkward pause, what finally emerged was, “King Zhao...”

Zhao Changhe pulled on the reins, his whip held casually in one hand. “Am I permitted entry?”

The guards exchanged nervous glances, cold sweat beading on their foreheads despite the biting snow.

This was the newly crowned King Zhao, widely acknowledged as the most powerful figure in the nascent dynasty. Alone, on horseback, in the dead of winter, he had ridden a thousand li to stand at the gates of Qinghe...

What do we do?! We haven’t received any orders on how to handle something like this!

Let alone the ordinary guards, even the commanding officer on duty wasted no time sending a personal messenger racing to inform Cui Wenjing.

Watching the chaos around him, Zhao Changhe laughed heartily and raised his voice, projecting it with the full power of a figure worthy of the Ranking of Heaven/ “Zhao Changhe has come to fulfill his marriage agreement. I am here to marry the young lady of the Cui Clan, Cui Yuanyang!”

The sheer force of his voice reverberated across the city, startling birds from their nests and echoing through the snow-covered streets.

The entire city of nearly three hundred thousand people heard the proclamation. Countless mouths hung half-open in astonishment, eyes wide in disbelief. Snow fell steadily, blanketing the city in silence.

Suddenly, the stillness was broken by the chaotic clamor of guards within the city. Hoofbeats echoed from the inner streets, accompanied by frantic voices. “Young miss, you can’t—”

“Piss off!”

A sharp whinny pierced the air as a steed’s hooves struck the stone path. A young woman astride a white horse swept through the falling snow like a whirlwind, charging out of the city gates.

At the gate, she pulled her reins sharply, her mount rearing before coming to a halt. She sat there, quietly gazing at the man who had arrived.

It was none other than Cui Yuanyang, looking like a winter fairy—white horse, silver cloak, silver saddle. Beneath the snow-laden gates, she looked like a vision from a poem, a painting brought to life.

A carved bow hung diagonally across her back as though she had been preparing for a hunt when she heard Zhao Changhe’s proclamation. She had raced here so quickly that she had not even grabbed her quiver.

She had grown taller... Her long legs hugged the horse’s flanks, and her posture was upright and proud. The baby fat on her face had begun to fade, leaving her features more defined and mature.

Her spirited oval face still held a trace of sternness from scolding the guards, but as her gaze settled on the man before her, her sharp expression softened. A radiant smile broke across her face, her eyes sparkling with joy.

This was a young woman who, during the siege of Puyang, had led troops on a daring night raid against the Wang Clan’s encampment. Months of war had forged her into someone unrecognizable from the naive little rabbit she once was. Gone was the childish impulsiveness of the girl who had run away from home years ago.

This was Cui Yuanyang... at eighteen years of age.

The young couple gazed at each other across the snow for a long time. Then, as if connected by the same thought, they both smiled and spoke in unison:

“I’ve been waiting more than two years for you to say this.”

“My little Yangyang... has grown up.”

They laughed again, this time with warmth and affection, their laughter carrying over the snow-covered plain.

From within the city came Cui Wenjing’s voice, also projected through the air. “Since you’ve come to discuss the marriage, come inside so we can discuss it.”