Chapter Fifty-Nine: Disturbing Someone’s Sleep Is a Sure Path to Hell

The relentless battles through the night had truly exhausted Zifan; his sleep was deep and undisturbed, even as the thunderous movements of troops outside failed to rouse him. Within the dimly lit tent, Zifan slept soundly, his head resting on the desk.

On the bed, Dong Bai quietly opened her eyes. She lay still for a while, realizing Zifan made no sound, lost in a dreamless slumber. Carefully, she lifted her quilt and slipped down from the bed, moving with such silence that not a sound was made.

Since she had been captured by Zifan, he had no choice but to let her stay in his tent to prevent her escape. Her steps were slow and cautious, every movement wrapped in quiet stealth. She walked over to Zifan’s side, lips parted as she studied him intently, her expression drifting between confusion and clarity.

Her father, Dong Zhuo, had entrusted her to Zifan, a sign that he foresaw his own defeat and trusted Zifan above all others—even though he was an enemy. Should Dong Zhuo fail, his only bloodline would at least endure; if he succeeded, Zifan, being a clever man, would surely act in his own interest whether through favor or threat. Truly, a plan to kill two birds with one stone.

Zifan’s sleeping posture was decent; no strange stains marred the desk, and he uttered no odd words nor performed peculiar acts. He simply lay quietly, chest rising and falling gently, his breath warm and steady, eyes closed in serene repose.

Since her capture, Dong Bai had never taken a good look at Zifan. She had to admit, by ancient standards, Zifan’s appearance was quite handsome: tall and broad-shouldered, skin bronzed, features sharp and deep-set. Even in his riding attire, he carried a hint of elegance that lent him an air of authority.

She stood before him for a long time, her gaze restless, as if lost in thought. Until a beam of sunlight pierced the tent, illuminating a sharp woman’s hairpin that flashed brightly, bathing the tent in light.

Her eyes shifted to Zifan’s chest; after an internal struggle, she raised the hairpin high. The faint scent of sandalwood filled the air, sunlight streamed through the carved lattice window, everything seemed peaceful.

A soldier passed by outside, their footsteps and conversation scarcely audible. Dong Bai swiftly hid the hairpin in her bosom, then moved toward the tent entrance. Fortunately, the soldiers were only patrolling, and few were allowed into the commander’s tent.

Dong Bai raised the gleaming hairpin once more. A gentle breeze stirred the tent, and she thrust the hairpin downward. Yet, as it neared Zifan’s chest, she stopped, her brow furrowed with inner conflict, lips curled in frustration.

That last bit of distance—she could not bring herself to strike.

Dong Bai sighed softly, then quietly replaced the hairpin atop her head, gazing at Zifan in silence. How could a general, a lord of his own domain, sleep so deeply? If an assassin came, he would be helpless.

How could this man lack all vigilance?

She sat by the bed, lost in thought, then bent down for another look. Zifan’s eyes remained closed, his slumber undisturbed.

She wondered what her father was thinking, entrusting her to such a man. Though this man’s fame was widespread, and her father had suffered much because of him, now that she looked closely, he hardly seemed reliable.

“Mm…” Zifan murmured and rolled over, but continued to sleep.

Dong Bai’s fingers trembled, her eyes quivering as she watched Zifan slip back into sleep. Her earlier trembling was from inner struggle; now, it was from sheer helplessness.

What a character… She wondered how he’d survived so long. Who would have thought the famous governor of Youzhou was just a soft-hearted fool?

Turning away, Dong Bai quietly opened the tent door and slipped out. She no longer wished to stay. Now that she was her father’s burden, she would find a hidden place and live as a recluse, so her father need not worry.

Yet, as she closed the tent flap, Zifan’s eyes opened slowly, and he sat up. Every move Dong Bai made had been imprinted in his mind.

Had Dong Bai truly struck, he would not have escaped. Zifan looked out the window, helpless. One is indebted to those who feed and shelter them… Where had that little girl gone?

Trouble!

Luckily, she hadn’t stabbed him, or his life would be forfeit. Then again, if she had, his promise would no longer matter.

Zifan rubbed his temples, feeling his scalp tingle. Things were growing ever more complicated; more and more people seemed to depend on him. Next time he traveled through time, he’d probably become currency itself!

Since Dong Bai lacked the resolve to kill, he could not abandon her. The situation outside was chaotic, with countless spies from various lords—if they learned she was Dong Zhuo’s daughter, they’d tear her apart.

A bleak, wan sunlight shrouded the strange forest, its towering, twisted plants and brilliantly hued insects giving everything an uncanny air.

Dong Bai, though capable of some self-defense, was after all just a woman, and felt a chill upon her skin, but paid it little mind. Everything seemed out of place.

She rubbed her hands together, tightened her cloak, mounted her white horse, and proceeded onward, unaware that several shadows crept behind her.

Five or six figures in night attire darted along the branches, vanishing in a flash. The sky darkened, moonless, trees looming, will-o’-the-wisps flickering ahead, ghostly shadows everywhere, and distant wolf howls adding to the forest’s menace.

The men eyed Dong Bai on her white horse with unusual seriousness.

“General, this is not Youzhou’s governor Zifan. Our intelligence mentioned nothing of this person.”

“She’s dressed expensively. Emerging from his tent, whether or not she’s his woman, their relationship must be extraordinary. If we present her to our lord, she’ll be a valuable bargaining chip.”

The “General” wore night clothes and a conical hat; a scar at his eye was striking.

The others moved closer.

A masked man spoke. “We haven’t seen Zifan. Perhaps we should return and discuss.”

The leader remained unmoving, eyes sharp as he watched Dong Bai.

“General, shall we act?” another masked man asked.

“If she emerged from the governor’s tent, she’s no ordinary person. Take her!”

The group leaped from the branches, sabers flashing as they unleashed a dazzling curtain of steel.

In the desperate moment, Dong Bai raised her precious blade, pushing back the assailants. With a twist of her wrist, she slashed at their abdomen.

But the black-clad man was agile, leaping behind her and landing deftly.

“Take her alive…”

The rest surrounded her.

Combat resumed, blades flashing in the darkness, their glint cold and fierce.

Dong Bai lifted both hands, sending a streak of silver flying. The masked man stood unmoving—upon closer look, he’d caught the silver needle in his mouth.

He removed it and sneered. “Little girl, that’s not how you use hidden weapons. Learn properly.”

Another flash of silver; a bird plunged to the ground.

At that moment, Dong Bai realized trouble was brewing. The opponent’s skill with hidden weapons was expert; their strength far exceeded hers. Clearly, he was a renowned assassin.

Was it fate’s cruel whim that she was targeted as soon as she left camp?

In such circumstances, she knew escape was impossible. Dong Bai steadied herself. “Why follow me? I bear you no grudge.”

“Emerging from Youzhou’s governor’s tent, you’re naturally our target.” The assassin’s laughter was like silver bells, melodious yet deadly.

“Whss—whss—whss—”

Seeing negotiation was impossible, Dong Bai struck first, determined to wound them regardless of outcome.

Yet the assassins were faster, deftly dodging her attacks. Several silver needles shot from their mouths, swift as lightning, aimed at Dong Bai.

She barely regained her composure, but it was too late—the needles streaked toward her.

Was this how she would die? In that final moment, time seemed to slow.

She knew escape was futile; she closed her eyes, heart resigned. Surely, death awaited.

She never imagined the world would be so perilous. She had not heeded her father’s words, and now she faced ruin.

If only she’d stayed in camp—regret was pointless now.

This life was ending; who knew how the next would unfold?

She wished for the life she wanted—she was so tired.

Tears slipped from her eyes in that instant.

Suddenly, a cold flash intercepted the needles.

A crackling sounded overhead. “So many grown men bullying a weak woman in broad daylight? Shameful!”

The voice startled the masked men, who instinctively raised their blades in defense.

For someone to approach so silently, the newcomer was surely formidable.

A flash of steel, and blood sprayed, scattering in all directions.

In a blink, several black-clad men fell, mortally wounded.

When they turned, Dong Bai had vanished, gone without a trace.

The assassins looked upward, as if realizing something.

Indeed, on a branch above, a youth in black held Dong Bai, dressed in white, in his arms.

“Tell your master this will cost him dearly.”

His smile deepened, his eyes sharp as a phoenix tail, handsome and cold.

His lips curved in a blade-like arc, eyes reflecting disdain for all below, a merciless contempt.

Though his manner was languid, deep within his gaze lay absolute ruthlessness.

Everyone knew that smile heralded a coming storm of blood.