The Kissed Stone and the Crimson Princess

By the time I finally escaped from the mountain stronghold, the bandit chief—who just a few days ago had clung to my leg and tearfully begged me to become his “bride of the mountain”—was now tied up in a neat little bundle, squatting obediently like a quail.

This time, A’Bao proved himself loyal. Instead of abandoning me and fleeing, he somehow managed to summon Gu Yi all the way from the capital.

Inside the stronghold, I had been locked in a separate room hidden deep within the maze of caves. So when Gu Yi first stormed the place, he didn’t find me. In his fury, he ordered his men to tie up every single bandit they could find—more than thirty of them—and drag them out in a line like dumplings on a string.

The room I was kept in was cleverly built, just one thin wall away from the main chamber. I could hear him searching outside, circling again and again, while I stomped my feet in frustration within.

By the time I finally managed to loosen my ropes and rush out, I found Gu Yi clutching a large stone to his chest—weeping uncontrollably.

“Qiao Qiao,” he sobbed, “don’t leave me again—!”

Then, to my utter horror, he kissed the rock. Loudly. Wetly. As if it were the most precious thing in the world.

His guards stood by dutifully, pretending not to see. A’Bao, however, was beside himself, squeaking and chittering, but even that failed to break Gu Yi’s strange trance.

I truly wanted to stay out of it—but why, why, was he calling out my name while kissing that rock? And why were the guards all looking at me as though I’d personally turned him insane?

My face burned crimson. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Gu Yi! What on earth are you doing?!”

Crash!
The sound snapped him out of his daze.

“You—you’re—” He looked from me to the stone, comparing us as if trying to spot the difference, then threw the stone aside and pulled me violently into his arms.

His grip was crushingly strong; I couldn’t break free no matter how I struggled.

“Thank the heavens,” he murmured into my hair, his voice shaking, “You’re alive. You’re alive…”

My hands paused mid-push, then slowly fell to my sides. I sighed, too tired to resist.

Because A’Bao had gone to the palace on a whim to summon Gu Yi, the latter still had official matters left unfinished. He would need to return to court. And so, rather shyly, he asked if I would come with him.

I agreed readily.

We left together in his carriage. Inside, he kept staring straight at me, his expression dark. “Where’s the human-skin mask I gave you?”

I touched my face. “I lost it.”

He all but exploded. “You lost it? The mask I gave you—how could you be so careless?”

I said honestly, “It was hideous. I’d get beaten up walking around in that thing. It was a matter of personal safety.”

He trembled with fury, pointing at me. “You—! Do you even realize that with this face of yours, going outside is even more dangerous?”

I nodded gravely. “You’re right. People might kidnap me again and make me their mountain bride.”

Gu Yi nearly choked on his own anger. After brooding for half a day, he tossed me another mask.

This one was much better—simple and handsome, the face of a delicate young scholar. The only problem was that next to Gu Yi, I looked like his servant boy. But it was better than nothing, so I accepted it cheerfully.

We spent the night at an inn, and before dawn the next morning, he yanked me out of bed, dressed me in a servant’s uniform, and pressed the mask to my face before I was even fully awake.

Half-asleep, I found myself stuffed back into the carriage, jolting along the road until we stopped at the palace gates.

According to the customs of Xihan, only the Emperor could ride into the palace; everyone else had to go on foot.

Our group—about a dozen people—marched toward the gates just as another procession arrived from the opposite side.

Fate has a cruel sense of humor.

Gu Yi met Qin An again.

Today, Qin An wore a deep violet robe, his long hair tied up beneath an official’s cap. He looked every inch the stern commander—composed, elegant, and utterly untouchable. Yet his face was hard to read, his aura colder than ever. Clearly, the fire Bai Xi had set before had burned more than just his house—it had burned his temper clean away.

Two groups met face to face before the palace gate. Neither moved. In this place, who walked first and who yielded mattered—it was not mere pride but a matter of imperial dignity.

Gu Yi took the first step forward and offered a polite bow. “General Qin, it has been too long. Since our last farewell at Liujun Garden, nearly a month has passed. I have missed your company. How have you been faring?”

Qin An frowned slightly. Clearly displeased, yet he returned the courtesy flawlessly. “I have been well. Thank you for your concern, Shizi. His Majesty has summoned me on urgent business today, so I shall not keep you. We can speak another time.”

The message was plain: step aside.

But Gu Yi’s men stood firm, blocking the path.

Gu Yi smiled faintly. “It seems General Qin is in quite a hurry. However, every matter in life must respect order—first come, first served. We were here first, yet General Qin insists on pushing ahead. What reasoning is that?”

Qin An’s face darkened.

“First come, first served?” he echoed coolly. “Surely you jest, Shizi. I have walked through this gate countless times since I entered court at fifteen. You, however, have only just arrived. By that logic, I was here first. And as for this moment—my men’s feet are already past the threshold. That counts as precedence, doesn’t it?”

Indeed, Qin An’s guards stood half a step ahead—half a foot, perhaps—but enough to make his point.

Gu Yi clapped his hands twice, smiling. “Ah, splendid argument! I always knew the general’s sword was unmatched on the battlefield, but I didn’t realize his tongue was equally sharp. To twist reason into obedience—truly, a master of rhetoric.”

The two men stood locked in a silent standoff, neither yielding. Behind them, soldiers from both sides grew tense, hands on their weapons, ready to spill blood for “national honor” at a single word.

Then—

From a distance, a gentle voice called out, “Why are the two of you blocking the way? Competing for the privilege of being last?”

Everyone turned.

A stunning woman approached, her every step graceful and deliberate.

“Princess Jin Xiu,” both men said at once, bowing low.

Only then did I realize—the radiant woman before us was none other than the famed Princess Jin Xiu herself.

Every gaze turned toward her. Mouths hung open, the sound of collective drooling nearly audible.

Too short to see clearly, I caught only a flash of crimson silk and the glitter of jeweled hairpins atop her head. Yet more than her beauty, it was her fragrance that struck me—a faint, delicate scent I knew too well.

It was her.

Without question, it was her.

My body began to tremble. My hands clenched into fists. The urge to lunge forward, to kill her, rose like a storm tide inside me—relentless, surging, impossible to contain. My heart pounded wildly; my breathing grew ragged. I could think of nothing else but ending her—her and the man beside her, Qin An.

I wanted to kill them both. I wanted them gone.

Sweat drenched my back. I shivered.

Then—warmth. A hand found mine, slick with cold sweat, and gripped it tightly.

“Don’t be afraid,” Gu Yi murmured. “I’m here.”

My heartbeat slowed. I turned slightly, met his gaze, and gave a small shake of my head—I was fine. Then my eyes drifted back to the princess’s face, that familiar, detestable face.

And just like that, the confrontation dissolved.

“Such a grand palace gate,” Jin Xiu said with a smile. “Surely it’s wide enough for two young heroes to pass? Or are the two of you too polite, insisting the other go first?”

She spread open her silk fan, running her slender fingers along the painted surface. “Since neither of you will move, then I shall.”

With a graceful lift of her skirt, she glided forward, stepping through the gate without hesitation. Then she turned her head and glanced back over her shoulder, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Now, gentlemen,” she said sweetly, “won’t you come in?”

Realizing how ridiculous their standoff had become, both men stiffened, muttered something unintelligible, and finally stepped aside to follow.