Chapter 80: The Antidote

Thanks to Prince Yu’s consistently obedient behavior, the Blackstone members hadn’t bothered to bind him with any restraints; they simply kept him surrounded as they traveled. Prince Yu cast several cautious glances around, then carefully slipped two small pieces of sandpaper from his sleeve. Rubbing them together gently, a visible smoke emerged in the daylight, but now, in the darkness, it was instantly concealed.

Even as he acted, Prince Yu felt a pang of regret—had he foreseen this, he would have brought poison paper instead; why had he prepared only the stupefying kind? Nonetheless, his vigilance did not waver as he closely watched those nearest to him.

After about five breaths, the people closest to Prince Yu began to move sluggishly, their actions severely disrupting the formation of those behind. The previously calm and orderly line had, at some point, started to descend into chaos from the middle onward.

Now was the perfect moment—any further delay and his odd behavior would surely be noticed. Decisive as ever, Prince Yu took advantage of the confusion: with a swift motion, he snatched the sword from the belt of a masked figure to his left and swung it wildly, then leapt away, attempting to escape.

The suddenness of his actions left most people stunned. Only a few reacted in time, but with others blocking their way, they could not seize Prince Yu; they could only watch as he fled.

In the blink of an eye, Prince Yu had vaulted past those at the rear of the group. He had no time to savor his brief success before a glint of cold light flashed in the darkness. A soft sword, striking from an impossible angle, coiled around his neck—if the wielder’s hand so much as trembled, his life would end instantly.

Faced with this, Prince Yu dared not resist. The stolen blade, still warm in his grip, clattered to the ground. With a sword at his throat and his adversary so near, Prince Yu knew he stood no chance against a master of this caliber.

There was no need to ask—his captor was none other than Drizzle, who guarded the rear.

Thus did Prince Yu fall victim to Blackstone’s meticulous caution.

In moments, Jiang Yuyan, Flowerless, the Painted Trickster, and Lei Bin hurried to his side.

“Trying to run?” The Painted Trickster sneered; then, without a visible move, a rope sprang from his chest, as if held by invisible hands, and in the blink of an eye, Prince Yu was tightly bound.

“Regretting your choice now? It’s not up to you anymore.” Jiang Yuyan’s expression was cold as she gazed into Prince Yu’s eyes.

Faced with her lifeless stare, Prince Yu realized his suspicions were correct—Jiang Yuyan had never intended to ask him for the antidote.

Glancing at the armed men encircling him, Prince Yu gave a cold laugh. “How well you’ve schemed. My imperial brother is truly ruthless. For a powerless, idle prince like me to take a Grandmaster of the Beauty Sect down with me isn’t such a bad trade.”

“But you hid it well. How could I not know that there’s a Grandmaster Consort in the palace?” He was gambling now—betting that Jiang Yuyan could risk his life, but the others could not.

“Spread out, stay alert. No one approaches without orders,” Drizzle responded quickly, dismissing the others before Prince Yu had finished his first sentence.

“How did you learn my identity?” Jiang Yuyan asked, curious—she was certain that before they left the prince’s residence, he hadn’t known who she was.

Before Prince Yu could reply, the Painted Trickster interjected, face darkening. “It was me. I was chatting with Lei Bin on the way. Never thought a prince would have such sharp ears.”

Now, only Jiang Yuyan and the Painted Trickster cared about this point; the others’ minds were elsewhere.

“What did you mean by ‘take down with you’?” Lei Bin was the first to ask when no one else spoke.

“What, you didn’t know? Your esteemed consort here is already poisoned. Why else would I risk my life in the middle of the night, leaving the residence with a Grandmaster captor? Such loyalty—she’d rather die than let me go.”

All but Flowerless felt a sense of impending doom at his words. Even Flowerless’s gaze grew icy, as if the heartless young master of the Moving Flowers Palace had returned.

The only one among them with some medical knowledge, the Painted Trickster, hurried forward, grasped Jiang Yuyan’s wrist, and focused his inner energy to examine her condition.

After a moment, he opened his eyes and shook his head. “No use. The poison is too strong, and I can’t tell what kind it is. I can’t help.”

The group’s hearts sank.

“Give us the antidote,” Flowerless stepped before Prince Yu, his tone cold.

“Do you take me for a fool? Why would I carry the antidote? It’s still in the residence. Let me go back, and I’ll fetch it for you. Do the math—your consort here won’t last past noon. No, not even that—she’ll be gone by noon today.”

“It’s not up to you. Tell us where the antidote is—we’ll retrieve it ourselves.”

Drizzle’s sword hand trembled slightly, and two thin lines of blood appeared on Prince Yu’s neck.

“So I’m not the fool—you are. I’ve made myself clear. The antidote is heavily guarded. No one but me can get it.”

Drizzle, Lei Bin, and the Painted Trickster exchanged uneasy glances—they were wary of harming him further.

But Flowerless was not. He said to Prince Yu, “Tell us whose hands the antidote is in. Nod if you agree.”

Even as he finished, Flowerless struck like lightning, sealing Prince Yu’s mute acupoint with a burst of inner energy, then seized Prince Yu’s hand and began to crush his fingers, one by one.

The sound of breaking bones echoed through the silent streets.

Blackstone’s people watched in horror as Prince Yu’s once-pale face turned blood-red, the whites of his eyes shot through with crimson, veins bulging under the skin. Born to a life of privilege, he had never known such agony. Anyone listening closely could hear faint, desperate screams, proving that the inner energy at his mute point was barely holding back his cries.

Flowerless had already broken two fingers, then shook off the bloody flesh without a flicker of emotion, preparing to continue. In his heart, he silently marveled—truly the will of the imperial family was formidable; no wonder he dared dream of treason.

Drizzle, as if realizing something, spoke up. “If you agree to talk, nod your head. If you—”

She had not finished when Prince Yu nodded so quickly he nearly blurred.

Whatever Flowerless felt inside, his face betrayed nothing as he released the mute point.

The instant the acupoint was released, Prince Yu’s scream pierced the night sky.

Flowerless frowned at the shrill sound. “Speak—if not, I’ll go on.”

The threat was enough; Prince Yu’s wailing faded to a whimper as he stammered, “There...there is no antidote.”