Chapter Seventy-Seven: Self-Rescue

When they saw their target plunge into the river, the assassins in charge of the capture rushed to the water's edge and turned to look at their leader. None of them could swim; they could only run a few steps along the bank, exchanging urgent glances with their leader, silently asking what to do next.

The leader's eyes were wide as he scanned the surface of the river again and again, but there was no sign whatsoever of Li Yuechen. Little did they know that, with her swimming prowess, she could easily dive seventy meters or more in a single breath—especially in the flowing waters of the Luo River.

After running another dozen meters along the bank, the lead assassin suddenly stopped and shook his head slightly.

“Why are you stopping?” one of the others asked from behind.

“We’ve lost her…” The leader’s voice was calm, almost flat. “The mission has failed.”

The others exchanged glances. “Then, should we…”

“We can’t return,” the leader replied, glancing left and right. “Too many people have witnessed this. If we go back, we’ll expose our master.”

The rest nodded, understanding instantly. In the next moment, all of them reached into their robes and took out small porcelain bottles. They uncorked them and poured the contents into their mouths.

Within moments, the assassins began to clutch their throats, bodies convulsing. The onlookers gasped in fright and drew back. After several spasms, the assassins collapsed to the ground, soon growing still and silent.

…

Meanwhile, Fulai was galloping wildly toward the imperial city atop a horse of uncertain origin. The palace guards immediately leveled their spears at the charging rider, and archers on the walls drew arrows and trained them on him as well.

Seeing himself surrounded and targeted, Fulai quickly reined in his horse and shouted in his shrill voice, “Fools! I am Wang Fulai! Make way, I have urgent news for the Holy One!”

At his words, the soldiers recognized him and signaled for passage at once. Since Fulai had left the city earlier with the Princess, they instinctively sensed a grave matter had occurred.

They watched as Fulai spurred his horse straight toward the Hall of Benevolent Longevity. The guards at the gate, realizing the urgency, immediately reported their suspicions to their commander, who, after a moment’s thought, ordered all soldiers to be on high alert and ready to assemble at a moment’s notice.

Fulai rode straight to the hall, where Zhang Chengxin, standing at the entrance, spotted the wild approach from afar. When he saw it was Fulai, his face darkened and he strode forward, blocking the way. “Scoundrel! How dare you ride a horse within the palace grounds?”

“Grandfather, I have urgent news for the Holy One!” Fulai tried to rush past.

Zhang Chengxin grabbed him. “Bring it to me first. Who do you think you are—”

“Your Highness has been attacked! There’s no time, Grandfather!” Fulai, desperate, shook off his arm and hurried inside. Zhang Chengxin was taken aback, but quickly followed.

Within the hall, everything was as usual: Wu Zetian reviewing memorials, Li Zhi burning incense and sipping tea, toying with his health balls as he reclined with eyes closed in a rocking chair.

Fulai rushed in without even removing his shoes, dropped to his knees before the table, and cried out in panic, “Holy One, Her Highness has been attacked!”

Li Zhi, who had been about to scold him for his panic, shot to his feet. “What did you say?!”

Wu Zetian, behind the desk, was equally shocked; her brush slipped from her fingers, splattering ink across the memorial.

Fulai bowed his head to the floor. “Just now, as Her Highness and I were returning to the palace, assassins struck. The gate guards could not hold them…”

“Outrageous!” Li Zhi’s eyes bulged as he bellowed, flinging his health ball to the floor where it clattered loudly.

With the emperor enraged, Zhang Chengxin quickly fell to his knees as well.

“Why are you here if the princess was attacked? Where is Chen’er now?” Li Zhi demanded.

Trembling before the emperor’s fury, Fulai dared not pause. “When the princess saw the guards couldn’t hold them, she climbed the wall and escaped. Some assassins pursued her, while the rest fought with us. That’s how I managed to return and report…”

Wu Zetian suddenly asked, “She escaped on her own? Was she hurt?”

“I did not see Her Highness injured…”

“Then why are you still standing here? Send people to find her at once!” Wu Zetian ordered coldly.

Zhang Chengxin sprang up. “This old servant will go immediately!” With that, he hurried out.

Li Zhi, suppressing his murderous rage, took a deep breath, then stepped in front of Fulai, speaking through clenched teeth, “Now, tell me everything that happened—clearly and with no omissions!”

Fulai quickly complied, recounting the events in detail.

---

After rushing out, Zhang Chengxin immediately issued orders: every palace guard was to search for the princess, even if it meant turning the city upside down.

Following his command, soldiers began to gather in the palace. Zhang Chengxin also summoned Xiao He, instructing her to assemble those familiar with the princess's appearance to lead the search—after all, few soldiers actually knew what the princess looked like.

The news that the princess had been attacked startled Xiao He, who hastened to prepare for the search. But before the soldiers had fully assembled, news arrived: someone had seen a group chasing a child through the southern market, and that child had eventually leaped into the Luo River, whereupon the pursuers on the bank had all committed suicide.

Upon receiving this report, Zhang Chengxin hurried back to inform Li Zhi.

“What? She jumped into the Luo River?” Wu Zetian's eyes widened. Suddenly her legs gave way, and she collapsed into her chair.

Li Zhi patted her shoulder. “Meiniang, do not worry. Chen’er is an excellent swimmer; she will be unharmed!”

He then gave the order: “Send word to all sixteen palace guards—search both banks of the Luo River! We must find Chen’er’s whereabouts!”

“Yes!” Zhang Chengxin responded, hurrying out.

Li Zhi took a deep breath, feeling his head throb. He shook it, forcing himself to calm down. He was anxious, but as emperor, he knew that if he lost his composure now, chaos would follow in the palace.

The news spread swiftly, reaching every corner of the palace almost instantly. Li Yuechen’s two older sisters and four brothers rushed to the Hall of Benevolent Longevity, faces drawn with worry.

Seeing his children arrive, Li Zhi raised a hand before they could speak. “I have already sent people to search. Do not fret. Wait here.”

“Father!” Li Xian stepped forward, his face dark. “Who dared to attack Yuechen? Let me tear him limb from limb!”

Li Xian echoed his brother, “I will go as well.”

Li Lun said nothing but stepped forward with equal determination.

Wu Zetian, steadying herself, quickly regained her composure. Seeing that Li Zhi was equally troubled, she motioned for the children to remain silent.

…

After entering the river, Li Yuechen let the current carry her downstream, only surfacing to catch her breath after over a hundred meters before diving again. Not until she neared the outskirts of Luoyang did she look back, confirming her gamble had paid off—the pursuers truly could not swim.

She wanted to climb ashore, but her strength was utterly spent and she could barely move. The banks were deserted; there was no one to call to for help.

After a moment’s thought, she relaxed her body and allowed herself to float on her back, letting the river carry her onward.

She glanced at her palms—the bark she’d grasped earlier had torn them open, leaving a dozen raw, red cuts that stung fiercely. The cold water at least served to numb the pain and stem the bleeding.

Damn it, let’s hope these don’t get infected… she thought, doing her best to keep her hands above the water.

The current soon swept her beyond the city walls. Glancing at both banks, she wished she might encounter someone—but with the sun already sinking westward, no one was in sight.

Reluctantly, she decided to swim for shore. It was only early March; the river was still icy cold. Staying in the water all night would surely be fatal.

She kicked her legs, drifting gradually toward the bank. At last, she staggered out of the water, her limbs leaden, head spinning, her small, pale feet sinking into the mud as she struggled ashore.

A touch to her forehead found it hot to the touch—she was feverish. Not surprising, she thought, after the exertion, the sweat, and now a long soak in freezing water.

Her clothes were soaked through, nearly transparent. The most urgent need was to change into dry clothes, or her fever would only worsen.

She looked around—she was just outside Luoyang, but in her present state, walking back was impossible; she might collapse along the way.

There were no villages or inns nearby. She might have to spend the night here.

Prepared for the worst, she gathered two sticks and some dry grass from the roadside, intending to try and start a fire by friction. But her fever and exhaustion left her too weak; nothing she did worked.

---

Just as she was about to strip and let the wind dry her, she caught sight of an ox cart trundling slowly in her direction. Rather than approaching immediately, Li Yuechen sat by the river’s edge, hugging her knees to her chest, watching and waiting.

The cart drew nearer, driven by a bearded man not yet thirty, scolding a boy by his side. The boy looked about her own age, his cheeks still round with youth. He listened with a respectful, almost meek, demeanor—perhaps a habit of rural children long used to their parents’ discipline. Both father and son were tanned from years of toil under the sun.

“All I want now is a good harvest,” the man lectured, “enough to send you to school so you can learn to read. That would be enough…”

But midway through his words, he noticed his son’s attention wavering. “Wretch! Are you not listening?”

The boy, however, pointed toward a willow by the riverbank. “Look, Father, there’s someone there!”

Following his son’s finger, Wu Da saw a young girl sitting beneath a tree by the water. She was hugging her knees to her chest, her face flushed, eyelids drooping as if she might fall asleep at any moment. Her clothes were soaked through, hair disheveled, with only a single hairpin still in place, the rest hanging in damp strands across her cheeks. Yet even so, her beauty was evident.

Li Yuechen, now feverish and dizzy, managed a wan smile when she saw someone approach.

Wu Da noted her fair skin and delicate hands—clearly a child of wealth—and wondered how she’d come to be alone in this desolate stretch. His son, curious, hopped from the cart and squatted beside her for a closer look, then turned and called out, “Father, she’s still alive!”

Wu Da came over, marveling at the girl’s porcelain-doll features, though she looked terribly ill.

“Father, let’s help her?” the boy asked.

Wu Da smiled and ruffled his son’s hair, joking, “Such a pretty girl—if we take her home, maybe one day she’ll be your bride!”

At this, Li Yuechen lifted her head slightly, her lips pale but curled in a faint smile. Her voice was hoarse: “Sir, if you make me your daughter-in-law, I fear you’d not survive the trouble…”

Wu Da frowned. He often sold animal skins in the city and had seen many wealthy families. This young girl had the same air as them—perhaps even more refined.

After a moment’s thought, he asked, “Who are you, little lady?”

“No need for questions,” Li Yuechen replied. “Just turn your cart and take me into the city. I can guarantee you a lifetime of glory and wealth.”

Wu Da frowned. For a girl so young to make such promises—was she mad? Yet her words were coherent; she hardly seemed deranged. If she truly came from a noble house, perhaps this was a stroke of fortune. At worst, it was only a short detour; if she was lying, he lost nothing—he could always take her home for his son.

Still, concern lingered on his face. “With the city gates closing soon, why not come home with us for the night and go in tomorrow—?”

“It’s all right. They’ll open the gates when they see me,” Li Yuechen shook her head. “Besides, I am gravely ill. If I die in your home tonight, you’ll have much trouble.”

Wu Da considered for a moment, then nodded. “Very well!”

After all, it was only a short trip—worth a try.

He turned the ox and cart toward Luoyang. His son, surprised, asked, “Father, what are you doing?”

“We’re going into the city!”

Wu Da turned the cart, then lifted Li Yuechen onto the straw at the back. He climbed onto the shaft, and they set off toward Luoyang.

But an ox cart was no match for a horse. At this pace, they would not reach the city until midnight.

Li Yuechen lay on the straw, overcome by fatigue, but dared not sleep—she still did not know if these two could be trusted. She forced herself upright, leaning against the cart, determined to stay awake until they reached the city.

Seeing the boy’s gaze fixed on her, she decided to strike up a conversation to keep herself alert.

She smiled faintly. “Do you have a name?”

“I’m Wu Gouzi. And you?” he replied, eyes bright with curiosity.

“Me? You’re better off not knowing my name,” Li Yuechen smiled.

She was not being arrogant—simply cautious. If he ever spoke her name in public, and an official overheard, a commoner calling a princess by name could easily meet a fatal end.