Just a glimpse of her silhouette was enough to tell she was a woman of extraordinary beauty.
Prince Wu quickly paid the bill and rushed down the tavern stairs, hurrying after the carriage.
The carriage moved slowly through the bustling streets before turning onto a quieter, wider road. It came to a stop, the golden bells hanging from its edges clinking softly.
Prince Wu straightened his robes and was about to approach when—suddenly—a cold glint flashed before his eyes. His hair stood on end as a strand of his brown curls drifted to the ground.
By the time he realized what had happened, a sharp blade was pressed against his vulnerable neck.
The steel was icy.
The edge rested against his throat; the slightest pressure could end his life right then and there.
Prince Wu could already feel the chilling bite of the blade. He swallowed nervously, thinking, Da Qing truly lives up to its reputation—so many formidable warriors here.
