Chapter 145

Chapter 145

Although they had decided to take the risk and play along with the scheme, Han Zhang did not truly want to gamble with his husband's life.

Moreover, he had always been known for his cleverness—if he deliberately revealed a flaw and gave Lord Jiayou an opening, it would only arouse suspicion.

So, over the next few days, the couple remained on high alert.

Shen Qinglan began to keep a low profile, rarely leaving the house unless absolutely necessary, and even then always surrounded by guards.

After finishing his duties, Han Zhang hurried home and made a point of staying close to his husband.

His conspicuously protective attitude toward his husband only fueled Lord Jiayou's jealousy, and his determination to kill Shen Qinglan hardened.

This tense standoff continued for several days, until one day Han Zhang was ordered to leave the city on official business and had still not returned by evening.

Han Zhang's young servant came staggering back, face covered in dust, voice frantic and despairing:

"My Lord, terrible news! The master was ambushed by mountain bandits on the road back to the city, and now... now he's at death's door! The physician says, says he may not survive the night—please, go see the master one last time!"

"What?!"

Upon hearing this, Shen Qinglan's head spun, tears sprang to his eyes, and he almost crumpled.

But then he recalled Han Zhang's repeated warnings from the past few days.

"My love, we've been on strict guard these days, and Lord Jiayou hasn't found an opening to strike. He'll surely try to lure you out."

"So, if you hear news of your father and mother being in trouble, whether true or false, send servants to handle it. But if you hear I'm in danger... that means Lord Jiayou has made his move, because no one in this world can kill me."

Though he didn't know why his husband was so confident, he had always trusted his words.

Shen Qinglan suppressed his panic, clutched his sleeves, and asked urgently: "My husband's martial arts are extraordinary—when he rescued Lord Jiayou at Hanshan in the past, he fought off dozens of attackers. How could he be in danger so easily today? What bandits are that fierce? Did my husband send a token back with you?"

His husband had said that if he truly sent word of danger, he would always include a token and a secret code.

If there wasn't one, then it was a lie!

The servant nodded and quickly produced a blood-stained jade pendant, urging him anxiously:

"This is the master's personal jade pendant. Those bandits weren't ordinary thugs—they were ruthless and there were a lot of them. Even though the master is skilled in martial arts, he can't fight off that many alone... The master is at death's door and only wants to see you one last time."

The servant wept as he spoke, and his tears were utterly convincing.

But Shen Qinglan's heart instantly relaxed.

Because this servant was lying to him!

The token and code phrase his husband had agreed on with him weren't this jade pendant or these words.

Though relieved inside, Shen Qinglan kept his face tear-streaked and devastated-looking, his body swaying as if shattered by the sudden terrible news, his voice trembling with tears:

"No, my husband can't be in danger... Hurry, hurry—prepare the carriage! Bring the best guards from the estate, grab that century-old ginseng from the storehouse, and the best wound medicine—leave the city now!"

Qiao Xi and Qiao Nan hurried off to get everything ready.

Qiao Dong and Qiao Xi wiped their tears nearby and offered comfort: "My lord, please take care of yourself. The master is blessed with good fortune—he'll surely come through safely..."

The household erupted into chaos and panic.

Surrounded by guards and led by the servant, Shen Qinglan rode in the carriage, racing out of the city.

And sure enough,

when the carriage reached a remote mountain path, several black-clad figures appeared, blocking the road like ghosts.

"The master's orders—take him alive!"

Seeing the black-clad men charging at him, Shen Qinglan put on a panicked look but moved with surprising agility, leaping from the carriage and fleeing alone into the forest.

His husband had told him that if he were ever in danger, he should run alone to a remote spot, and the people his husband had arranged would come to save him.

Though he still didn't fully understand Han Zhang's plan, Shen Qinglan chose to trust him.

"He's heading into the woods—after him!"

The black-clad men knew exactly what to do. Seeing Shen Qinglan disappear into the forest, they split into two groups—one to hold off the Han family guards, the other to chase him.

Fortunately, Shen Qinglan was no ordinary young noble. He was not well-versed in poetry and prose, but he had trained in martial arts since childhood, making him far sturdier and more agile than the average young gentleman.

The black-clad men couldn't catch him at first.

And Shen Qinglan, remembering Han Zhang's instructions, kept running deeper into the wilderness until he was completely exhausted and couldn't run anymore.

"Run? Why'd you stop running?"

The bandit leader and his men soon caught up, their eyes above their masks gleaming with the cruel amusement of a cat toying with a mouse:

"Master Han sure has quick feet—you've given us quite a chase. If you'd surrendered quietly earlier, you might've gotten a quick death. But now that you've played with us like this, don't blame us for not being gentle."

"The prince wants you alive, but he didn't say unharmed... Master Han, you can only blame your bad luck for standing in Lord Jiayou's way. It's your fate to go to the underworld."

With that, he advanced step by step, dragging a long blade still dripping blood.

Though Shen Qinglan was bold, he was ultimately a pampered young noble raised in comfort—when had he ever seen such a life-and-death scene?

Seeing the blood-stained blade getting closer, he nearly burst into tears, his body going weak, with no strength left to run.

In that split second, he forced down his terror and, following Han Zhang's instructions, cried out right there:

"Husband, save me—!"

And then, in the very next moment,

he saw something he would never forget for the rest of his life.

The moment his cry faded, the wooden bracelet Han Zhang had given him burst with a dazzling green light, rapidly expanding and growing, transforming in the blink of an eye into a colossal, bizarre vine plant with branches sprawling in every direction.

"What the—what is this?!"

"A monster! It's a monster!"

"He's not human—he's a tree demon! Run!"

Though these black-clad men were rigorously trained and well-traveled, the sudden appearance of such an eerie, supernatural sight turned their faces pale, and they turned and fled without a second thought.

They were assassins, guards of Lord Jiayou—not death warriors. They valued their lives!

But this mutant plant, born of Han Zhang's power, wasn't about to let them leave so easily.

The vine had no sentience; its genes carried only one command left by Han Zhang: once awakened, it had to slaughter every living thing within a hundred meters, except for its master, Shen Qinglan.

After all, in this day and age, a mutated plant really did seem like something out of a monster story.

If even one person got away and spread the word, it wouldn't be protection for Shen Qinglan—it would be disaster.

That was exactly why Han Zhang had told Shen Qinglan to lead the men somewhere remote, because once that mutated plant went to work, it didn't tell friend from foe.

And so, Shen Qinglan could only stand there, stunned, watching the vine plant carry out a one-sided slaughter upon the group of black-clad assassins.

It truly was a massacre. The assassins had absolutely no way to fight back against the mutated plant.

In just a few breaths, bodies were scattered everywhere, blood splattering all over, staining the dirt of that quiet forest a sickening dark red...

Only after making sure nothing alive was left nearby did the mutated vine come back to Shen Qinglan, turning back into the harmless-looking "wooden bracelet" it had been before.

Shen Qinglan trembled all over as he stared at everything before him. It took him a long moment before he picked the bracelet back up and slid it onto his wrist, wiping away the tears he'd cried out of fear, and murmured softly:

"No matter... no matter what he really is, in this life, he's my husband! Even if he's a demon, the way he treats me is real—he's the best demon in the whole world..."

He loved his husband, and his husband truly treasured him back.

He'd never cared that his husband came from a lowly background before, so why should he care now whether his husband was even human?

Bound together as husband and husband, loving each other without a single doubt.

All he knew was that this man was his husband—the one his heart wanted, the one he'd spend his whole life with.

Shen Qinglan composed himself, remembering Han Zhang's plan for the "self-injury trick," and forced himself to push past his fear. He ran to the dead men in black and smeared their blood all over himself.

Once he was covered in blood, he figured it still wasn't enough.

He grabbed a fallen long knife from the ground, gritted his teeth, and slashed his own shoulder twice, deep. Then he picked up a rough rock from the dirt and rubbed it against his forehead until a big bruise formed. Only when he was sure he looked messed up enough did he stumble back to meet up with the servants and guards he'd split from earlier.

"Back... back to the manor."

The second he saw the others, Shen Qinglan's nerves gave out, all his strength leaving him as he collapsed.

"Master! Master!"

Qiao Dong, Qiao Xi, and the others saw him soaked in blood and panicked, screaming as they rushed to carry him back to the manor.

When Shen Qinglan woke up, he was in the familiar comfort of his own bedroom.

The air was thick with the mixed smell of calming incense and medicine, candlelight flickering softly in the dim light.

Han Zhang sat at the bedside, tightly gripping his hand. Even though he knew full well Shen Qinglan's injuries were just superficial—mere flesh wounds—his brow was etched with worry, heartache, and regret he couldn't hide.

Dark circles hung under his eyes; his usual calm composure was completely gone.

Seeing Shen Qinglan finally awake, joy lit up Han Zhang's face, and he immediately leaned in with concern: "Husband, you're awake? How do you feel? Today, you... saw everything?"

His excited voice faltered at the end, his gaze filled with trepidation.

Clearly, he feared that his husband, having witnessed the day's events, would henceforth be afraid of him and keep his distance.

But the anticipated flinch never came.

Shen Qinglan only did as he always did—gently took Han Zhang's hand, his eyes shimmering with tears, his voice soft and plaintive:

"Husband, I hurt..."

That look—like a hurt little animal seeking shelter only from the one it loves most—shattered the last wall of Han Zhang's defenses as a man from the apocalypse, crumbling it to pieces.