Volume One, Chapter 14: Solely Cherishing You

Outside the tent, the fierce crack of the whip echoed through the vast sky. Lilan knew she had utterly enraged the man before her. She humbly tried to appease him, but he mercilessly brushed aside her hand and strode away.

Lilan fell to the ground, the pain in her back causing her shoulder to tremble faintly. But she had no time to feel the pain; she forced herself to stand, staggering as she pursued him.

She was terrified—terrified that in his fury, he might kill Pei Qizhou. She screamed hysterically at his retreating figure, but his steps never faltered until he completely vanished from her sight.

On the boundless grassland, she appeared extraordinarily small and vulnerable. Lilan stood there, disheveled, her back bleeding.

Suddenly, the thunderous sound of galloping hooves approached, stirring dust that blurred the horizon. Leading the charge was a woman in a vibrant red dress, radiant and bold.

“I say, Baoqin, it’s still early—why are you in such a hurry?” a deep, robust voice called from behind.

The woman in red heard this but did not slow her pace.

“You don’t understand. It’s been so long since I parted from Brother Keda; naturally, I miss him terribly. If only I could see him even a moment sooner, it would ease the ache of longing!”

Her clear voice was carried away by the wind. The red skirt billowed, forming elegant shapes, while her horse galloped faster and faster until she was far ahead of the others.

Lilan stood alone, watching from afar as a tall chestnut horse charged toward her at a terrifying speed, almost trampling her.

She instinctively dodged, but the horse seemed intent on coming straight for her. No matter which way she moved, it aimed precisely at her.

“Move aside! Anyone in front, move aside!” the rider shouted frantically, waving her hands.

Only then did Lilan realize the horse was out of control.

Ignoring the pain in her body, she ran, but the horse relentlessly charged her with deadly precision.

The scene was harrowing.

The horse was nearly upon her. The rider pulled the reins tightly; with a sharp neigh, the hooves rose high. The woman in red leaned backward, then executed a flawless backflip, landing steadily on her feet.

Lilan’s eyes dilated; her legs felt like lead—she couldn’t move an inch.

Suddenly, a sharp pain struck her chest as the horse’s immense force threw her to the ground. She fell heavily, choking on the metallic taste of blood, her ribs aching as if shattered.

“Are you alright?”

A buzzing sound filled her ears, and she vaguely heard a woman’s urgent voice.

The woman helped Lilan sit up, and after a long while, the blood taste in her throat began to subside.

“I’m fine,” she said with effort, opening her eyes to see a red skirt adorned with delicate patterns.

Above it was a strikingly beautiful and bold face. She resembled Baozhu somewhat but was even more exquisite and radiant—surely this was Baoqin, the “Queen.”

Lilan withdrew her gaze. Her leg throbbed fiercely; she bit her lip, sweat beading on her forehead.

“Your leg looks badly hurt. I’ll go find Gesa,” Baoqin said.

Bahu arrived, dismounted, and blocked Baoqin’s way.

“Why bother with her? Looking so miserable is just bad luck. The Great Khan has arranged a welcome feast; let’s go.”

Baoqin glanced at Lilan, “It’s my fault for being too eager to see Brother Keda that she got hurt.”

Bahu spat on the ground near Lilan, slung an arm around Baoqin’s shoulders, and led her away.

“When you’re not around, the Great Khan always finds some woman to amuse himself. Now that you’re back, he’ll surely cast her aside again and dote on you alone.”

Hearing this, Baoqin proudly lifted her graceful neck, teasing Bahu about his impudence, yet she reached out to stroke the chestnut horse’s neck affectionately.

Night fell, but hundreds of tents blazed with light.

Today was a grand day on the grassland; General Bahu and Baoqin had just returned from the Central Plains. The Great Khan personally arranged a welcome feast to honor their arrival.

Lilan limped for a long time before finding the large tent where Keda resided.

The blood on her back had dried; she picked up a fallen branch and painfully jabbed it into her wound, causing fresh, burning blood to flow again.

She could think of no other way to earn a shred of his sympathy.

Inside the tent, cups clinked amid the lively revelry. Keda sat at the head, smiling as he toasted with Baoqin.

Unlike the coy women from the Central Plains, Baoqin lifted her head and drained her cup in one go.

Her voice was sweet and sultry, “Brother Keda, I offer this cup in apology. Tonight, my horse lost control and accidentally injured Miss Lan. After the feast, I will ask Gesa for the finest wound medicine and personally tend to her.”

Lilan pressed her pale lips together as she listened. Her ankle felt as if pierced by thousands of needles, but she forced herself not to faint and hobbled into the tent.

Finally reaching the doorway, she overheard the man’s deep voice.

“Wound medicine is precious, but she is nothing more than a plaything—not worthy of such fine care.”

Lilan’s mind went blank.

The pain in her body vanished at that moment.

She knew her place was lowly, but those words felt like a dagger piercing straight into her heart, crushing the last shred of her dignity into dust.

He spoke so calmly, as if he had uttered those words a thousand times before.

The night on the grassland howled with the wind.

Lilan never entered the tent but dragged her broken body to see the Crown Prince.

Pei Qizhou was on the verge of death. After ten lashes, he clung to the last breath of his life.

She wept aloud in the wind, which quickly dried her tears, yet fresh, scalding tears soon replaced them.

Lilan despised that barbarian with all her heart.

Yet, after the grand welcome feast ended, she obediently returned to Keda’s large tent.

This time, however, someone barred her entry.

“The Great Khan commands: no one may enter.”

Lilan stared at the familiar tent in disbelief.

She begged humbly at the gate, but from inside came the sound of a woman’s melodious laughter.

Lilan recognized Baoqin’s voice.

Her heart turned utterly cold. She felt as if she had returned to that night in the sheepfold—just as cold.

The blood flowing down her back felt like a cruel joke.

It served no purpose but to hurt.

A sharp pain gripped her abdomen, and she endured it until the sun rose again before feeling any relief.

A stir swept across the grassland.

Baoqin was surrounded by a crowd, her face flushed with a strange glow after the night’s events, clearly well cared for.

“Baoqin, tell us, you’ve been apart from the Great Khan so long—does he still possess the same fierce vigor as before?”

“Watch your mouth! Say ‘Queen’ Baoqin, not just Baoqin.”

Blushing, Baoqin awkwardly coughed twice.

“Enough questions, I’m exhausted. After last night’s ordeal, I’m completely worn out.”

Laughter and teasing erupted around her.

All these words reached Lilan’s ears. For some reason, at that moment, she longed to vanish.

Huddled in a small corner outside the tent, she buried her head deep into her arms. Her body burned as if she had a high fever.

Through the haze, a sudden strong force lifted her up. Lilan gasped softly and, looking up, saw a familiar jawline come into view.