Chapter 338: Chapter 336: Dreaming of Being a Fish All Day Long
Lu Ying’s sword light followed closely, like chaotic moonlight.
"Fuck!"
Yan Zheming cursed under his breath, unsheathing the curved blade at his waist to meet his opponent. His guards had already arrived, torches in hand, encircling the riverbank tightly.
A sword flash slit across Yan Zheming’s left arm.
Yan Zheming glanced at the mangled wound, unable to suppress the surging blood and qi. His well-built, bronzed chest heaved with tension, the gold and sapphire serpent head of his weapon reflecting a dangerously sharp gleam.
He scowled at Lu Ying, his voice low and menacing: "I hadn’t planned to take your life—just to drag you off the Crown Prince’s throne—that would have sufficed. But you’re insisting on courting death!"
Lu Ying stood calmly atop a jagged rock.
The river struck the shore, splashing water that dampened the hem of his swirling black robes in the wind. The longsword in his hand glimmered coldly, as frigid and aloof as his narrow eyes. A beam of moonlight pierced through the endless clouds, casting over him as if he were the sole beacon in this vast earthly realm.
He spoke indifferently: "No need for useless talk."
Yan Zheming gritted his teeth: "Attack!"
He was a man of Yan.
Unlike the people of the Central Plains, Yan people were less concerned with fairness—outnumbering an opponent was not uncommon; victory was all that mattered.
The firelight danced.
His curved blade, wreathed in flames, roared as it slashed toward Lu Ying.
Yan Zheming knew all too well—Lu Ying absolutely could not become the next monarch of Great Zhou.
Lu Ying was far too rational, far too brilliant. He avoided women and eschewed indulgent pleasures; it was said even his private life was simple and austere. He would make a wise ruler, and Great Zhou would grow even more prosperous and mighty under his reign.
But Yan Country, unlike the Central Plains with its expansive resources, had very limited means. Yan Zheming feared having such a powerful neighbor looming beside them.
Tonight, Lu Ying’s sudden appearance intending to kill him evoked an absurd feeling in Yan Zheming—
While he harbored fear of Lu Ying, could it be that Lu Ying also feared him?
He had fought his way to the top, emerging victorious among dozens of brothers. Versed in Central Plains culture, he understood Buddhism, Confucianism, Daoism, and Legalism, and was well-versed in Central Plains military strategies. Lu Ying, fearing he might elevate Yan’s cavalry and military strength to terrifying heights, was willing to risk all to eliminate him.
This sensation made Yan Zheming conclude that he and Lu Ying were evenly matched adversaries.
In the clash of blades, he shouted with exhilaration: "You people of the Central Plains often speak of ’heroes vying for the Central Plains,’ Lu Ying—are you afraid I’ll take your ’deer’? You see me as a formidable rival, don’t you?!"
Lu Ying leapt high into the air, his robe billowing like a banner in the wind.
In the moment he descended, he lightly stepped upon the blade of Yan Zheming’s weapon. Beneath the sole of his silken boot, the orange glow of the curved blade and its firelight reflected his still composed and noble visage.
He lowered his gaze, his narrow eyes unreadable: "A rival?"
Yan Zheming froze momentarily.
He felt as though Lu Ying did not see him as an opponent—rather, he seemed to be looking at a dead man.
Lu Ying’s lips curved slightly: "You’ve only read about ’vying for the Central Plains,’ but have you read ’How many truly claim the deer? By day, they dream as fish at will’? Few in this world ever attain what they desire. In the end, it’s but wishful thinking, a fleeting mirage. You and I are no different."
As his words fell, countless sword shadows abruptly manifested behind him.
Swordlight resounded as his figure vanished from atop Yan Zheming’s blade. Majestic sword energy swept through the air like a cage, trapping Yan Zheming within.
Yan Zheming was stricken with terror. Despite deflecting most of the onslaught with his curved blade, he was still pierced in the abdomen by a streak of sword energy.
Lu Ying appeared before him.
Slightly tilting his head, he cast a cold glance at Yan Zheming: "The Crown Prince of Yan knows to study our Central Plains classics and military strategies, aspiring to use our heritage against us. Thus, you so readily speak of ambitions like ’vying for the Central Plains.’ Yet you fail to grasp the profound vastness of Central Plains culture—besides Buddhism, Confucianism, Daoism, and Legalism, the poetry and song from all corners of the world are equally unparalleled. Naturally, Crown Prince of Yan, you will have no chance to turn another page of those poetry collections."
Yan Zheming clutched his abdomen.
Propping himself up with his blade, he staggered to one knee.
Blood surged from between his fingers, refusing to be staunched. With an open wound in his abdomen, all efforts to stem the bleeding were futile.
His guards cried out in anguish:
"Your Highness!"
"You killed our Crown Prince!"
"..."
The cacophony erupted as they, driven by overwhelming hatred, charged at Lu Ying in unison!
Amid the clamor of battle, a carriage arrived late to the scene.
Shen Yunxi had lingered to buy several lanterns on the street, ambling leisurely, unaware she’d stumble upon a violent skirmish upon arrival.
Lian Ye drew open the curtain to peek outside, quickly pointing at one of the combatants with a sharp cry: "Madam, that seems to be our Crown Prince!"
"Where?!" Shen Yunxi hastily looked over.
Lu Ying’s figure stood out distinctly. He was tall and striking, his towering form as unmissable as a lone green mountain or an elegant jade tree in the wind, even amidst a melee of Yan fighters.
Shen Yunxi exclaimed excitedly, "No wonder Brother insisted I come here—it’s because the Crown Prince is here! Brother still cares for his full-blooded sister after all."
Lian Ye, sharp-eyed, pointed toward several guards skulking in the shadows: "Madam, look—are those men planning to ambush His Highness?!"
The guards were nocking arrows to their bows, clearly intent on a sneak attack.
Shen Yunxi’s heart leapt in fright.
It was her first time seeing Lu Ying fight in person tonight; she had no sense of his martial prowess. All she knew was that his life might very well end here.
She clutched the side of the carriage tightly, her gaze fixed on that tall silhouette. Worry clouded her delicate face: "Your Highness..."
She had admired the Crown Prince from a very young age.
At the time, the Crown Prince was still Shen Yinning’s fiancé. When he visited the Shen Guogong Mansion to find her, Shen Yinning had coincidentally gone to the countryside to visit the Yu Residence.
Shen Yunxi, along with Lianxin and Lian Ye, were playing shuttlecock on the grass near the rock garden. Distracted, she kicked too hard, accidentally sending the shuttlecock into the flower path, where it landed near the Crown Prince’s feet.
Flustered, she ran over, only to see the Crown Prince bend down and pick up the shuttlecock.
When he saw her approach, he handed the shuttlecock back to her: "Are you Shen Miss’s younger sister?"
He was strikingly handsome—more so than any man Shen Yunxi had ever met, even more so than Lu Shiyan. She glanced at the jade pendant on his waist and immediately knew he was the reigning Crown Prince.
But, like everyone else, his eyes only sought Shen Yinning.
Shen Yunxi felt a bit disgruntled.
In the Capital, every young scholar who met her would always ask if she was Shen Yinning’s younger sister, as if, aside from this identity, she had no name of her own. They had no other words for her, incessantly inquiring about Shen Yinning’s likes and interests, treating her like nothing more than a messenger.
She pouted: "My name is Shen Yunxi, the legitimate daughter of Shen Family’s second household. My father holds the post of Minister. I am not merely ’Shen Miss’s younger sister.’"
Rather than being offended by her rudeness, Lu Ying contemplated briefly before nodding and formally addressing her anew: "Miss Shen Yunxi."
Miss Shen Yunxi...
Her heart skipped a beat.
In the Capital, no man had ever addressed her so seriously.
Clutching the shuttlecock tightly, she stole a glance at the Crown Prince, her cheeks unexpectedly growing warm.