The Little Princess's Secret Guard - Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Stop Crying
The winter this year arrived exceptionally early. The cold wind blew across the cheek, bringing an icy chill to the bone.
Inside the Imperial Retreat, a physician hurried toward the inner chambers, carrying his medical box. He stopped before a rosewood canopy bed. The waiting maid gently lifted the curtain: “Your Highness, Imperial Physician Lin is here.”
As she spoke, a fair, slender hand reached out from within the bed curtains and was gently placed upon the pulse pillow.
“My apologies for troubling Imperial Physician Lin,” a faint, weak voice drifted from inside the curtains. Imperial Physician Lin took out a soft silk pad and placed it gently over the fine, pale wrist.
“The Princess is too kind to this old official.”
After finishing the diagnosis, Shen Panyan slowly retracted her hand. The ensuing conversation between Imperial Physician Lin and the maid, Qiushuang, carried to her ears.
“The Princess’s pulse is becoming increasingly erratic. Did she sleep peacefully last night?”
“No. Her Highness kept the lamp lit all night.”
“And her meals?”
“The Princess hasn’t taken a single drop of water since yesterday…”
Shen Panyan felt a headache coming on. She felt a buzzing noise inside her head, and the voices of Imperial Physician Lin and Qiushuang grew increasingly hazy and distant.
She was utterly exhausted, her eyes bloodshot, but she dared not close them. The moment she did, the scene from that day would involuntarily flash in her mind: the fierce bandits charging at her with knives, the hideous and terrifying smile on a man whose face was sliced across by a scar.
Shen Panyan’s entire body curled up, her frame trembling beneath the covers.
Fortunately, it was daytime, less ominous than the night. Despite her sleepless night, Shen Panyan could no longer resist the fatigue flooding her body and unknowingly slipped into a deep sleep.
The news of Princess Mingyue encountering bandits on her way to the Imperial Retreat and fainting on the spot had already reached the capital. Now, another letter was delivered to His Majesty’s study.
Emperor Qianning opened the envelope, his brow deeply furrowed.
Truthfully, this letter should have been sent to the Kunning Palace (Empress’s Residence), but the one residing there habitually disregarded any letters sent from the Imperial Retreat. With no reply received for half a month, they had no choice but to risk sending the letter to the imperial study.
Although Princess Mingyue was timid by nature and not favored by the Empress or His Majesty, she was still the Emperor’s child. As the matter concerned her life and death, no one dared to be careless.
The winter wind was cold. Normally, the windows were tightly shut, but for some unknown reason today, one window was half-open. The frigid winter wind rushed in through the gap, rousing Shen Panyan’s drowsy head slightly.
She parted her lips, her voice frighteningly hoarse, “Qiushuang, water.”
No sound came from outside the bed curtains.
“Qiushuang! Qiushuang!”
She called out several times, but still, no sound came from the room. Only her own echo remained in the empty room, making Shen Panyan’s heart clench. Her mind involuntarily flashed back to that day.
On the road to the Imperial Retreat, bandits suddenly blocked their way. Everyone fell silent, a stillness that made her heart pound and tremble. Qiushuang dismounted the carriage, and immediately a clash of weapons rang out, followed by screams, wails, and angry roars that never ceased.
Shen Panyan hid inside the carriage, completely unaware of what was happening outside. Suddenly, a hideous bandit with a scarred face lifted the curtain. He held a long knife dripping with bl00d and walked towards her with a grim smile…
Shen Panyan shrieked. She couldn’t clearly remember anything that happened afterward.
The feeling of dizziness and light-headedness surged again. Shen Panyan tightly clutched the quilt, her pale knuckles showing blue veins, and her body began to tremble.
“Qiushuang! Qiushuang! Where are you?”
However, the empty room only echoed her calls.
Tears instantly welled up in her eyes.
She stared wide-eyed at the small bed curtains. The tiny space trapped her alone inside. No sound, no light, and even breathing felt suffocating. Fear was drowning her… She couldn’t lie in bed any longer.
Shen Panyan forced her weak body to sit up and pulled back the bed curtains, intending to go find Qiushuang.
But she had been confined to bed for almost a month, and the nightmares had robbed her of sleep, leaving her body extremely weak. Abruptly sitting up, she lost her balance before she could stand and her legs gave way, sending her tumbling toward the floor.
The room was paved with cold, hard bluestone slabs. Shen Panyan instinctively closed her eyes.
To her surprise, the expected pain did not arrive. Instead, she fell into a cold embrace.
The man’s body carried the chill of the wind and snow from outside. Shen Panyan was wearing only a thin single layer of clothing. The cold touch made her shiver uncontrollably.
“Your Highness, this subordinate has overstepped.” The man’s voice carried a clear chill, like the winter snow outside the window, devoid of any warmth.
Hearing a strange male voice so suddenly, Shen Panyan paused, almost thinking she had misheard.
She looked up and realized the person holding her was a man in black whose face was obscured.
His features were covered by a black mask. Only his eyes, sharp and indifferent, were visible.
The man in black helped her up and gently laid her back on the bed. Only then did Shen Panyan notice he was holding a teapot.
Recalling the entire scene, a blush rose to Shen Panyan’s cheeks. She shyly turned her head, burying her face in the quilt. A muffled voice came from beneath the covers, “Who are you?”
Her voice was soft and thin, sounding weaker than the winter wind outside.
He called her “Your Highness,” so he must know her.
The man in black did not answer her question. He picked up a teacup nearby and poured her a cup of warm water.
“Water.”
Hearing his voice again, Shen Panyan finally loosened her grip on the quilt and poked her head out.
“Th-thank you…”
She reached out to take the teacup, sipping slowly while secretly observing him.
Logically, she should have been frightened by a strange man suddenly appearing in her private room, but somehow, she wasn’t afraid. In fact, she felt a sense of security.
At least she wasn’t alone in this vast, quiet room.
As long as someone was beside her, she felt safe.
The water was neither hot nor cold, just the right temperature. After drinking the water, Shen Panyan was holding the cup, unsure of what to say to him, when a long, slender hand suddenly drew the cup from her grasp.
“Does Your Highness require more?”
Although it was a question, he had already poured another cup of warm water and was offering it to her.
Shen Panyan was stunned. Before she could react, the warm teacup was already placed back into her hands.
This move, which could be deemed presumptuous, seemed perfectly natural when he did it—swift and decisive.
Shen Panyan quietly finished the warm water. This time, she actively handed the cup to the man in black.
“Thank you.” After saying it, she quickly added, “That’s enough. I don’t need any more.”
The man in black nodded, collected the cup, and set it down. He then came to her bedside, knelt down halfway. Even with his head lowered, he carried a sharp, fierce aura, like a curved saber without a sheath.
“This subordinate greets Your Highness.”
“My name is An Jiu (Shadow Nine). I am a Shadow Guard sent by His Majesty to protect and look after you for a period of time.”
A Shadow Guard?
“If Your Highness has any urgent matters, you may call upon this subordinate at any time.”
With that, before she could respond, An Jiu suddenly vanished from her sight.
His appearance was sudden, and his disappearance was equally sudden. Shen Panyan stared blankly at the spot where he had disappeared.
This man in black who appeared so suddenly is called An Jiu, a Shadow Guard sent by Imperial Father to protect and look after me for a while?
But why would Imperial Father send a Shadow Guard to protect and look after her?
Shen Panyan didn’t quite understand.
Just as she was about to summon An Jiu to ask, the door creaked open. Qiushuang walked in. Seeing the bed curtains drawn back, she paused, then quickly hurried forward.
“Your Highness, you’re awake.”
“Mmm.” Shen Panyan nodded. Seeing Qiushuang enter, the fear from moments ago surged back, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Qiushuang, where did you go just now? I called you, but you weren’t here.”
Qiushuang’s steps faltered slightly. She answered without addressing the question: “The wind is cold today, and many leaves have fallen. The lower-ranking serving maids have been lazy and haven’t even swept the courtyard leaves. Your Highness, you really should speak to them.”
Shen Panyan’s nose stung, and the swirling tears instantly rolled down her cheeks.
“Mmm,” she lowered her head, her voice a barely audible whisper. If Qiushuang hadn’t been around her for years, she wouldn’t have known what she was saying.
Qiushuang was long tired of her nature. As if she hadn’t seen the tears, her voice carried a professional, detached tone. “Does Your Highness wish to dine?”
No one cared about her distress. Shen Panyan shook her head. “I don’t feel like eating.”
“Then, please call the maidservant when Your Highness wishes to dine.” With that, Qiushuang bowed and withdrew.
Watching her figure retreat, Shen Panyan could no longer hold back. Her hands twisted the quilt, creating deep wrinkles, and tears streamed down like a chain of pearls.
She knew her temperament was not very endearing, so she didn’t expect others to comfort her. But couldn’t Qiushuang have asked just one more question?
Even just one!
Qiushuang’s figure was obscured by the door. Shen Panyan could no longer see her, and her vision became blurry and indistinct.
Sometimes, she would wonder if people would only look at her if she died, or perhaps if she were severely injured.
Just like when her Imperial Mother would frequently arrange for her to be ill, only to make her Imperial Father visit the Kunning Palace more often.
In the vast room, only her own quiet sobbing remained.
An Jiu hadn’t originally planned to intervene.
Everyone—not just the court and the harem, but also the Shadow Guards who served His Majesty—knew that Princess Mingyue was timid by nature. He had even seen her many times.
A Shadow Guard, accustomed to tasks steeped in bloodshed and danger, suddenly being ordered to look after a Princess as delicate as a flower, couldn’t adapt to such a job. Consequently, no one in the Shadow Guard Corps was willing to take on this troublesome assignment.
Seeing that no one volunteered, An Ying (the head of the Shadow Guards) ordered the guards to fight each other, with the loser taking the task. Unexpectedly, he changed his mind at the last moment, saying the capable should shoulder more burdens, so the winner got the assignment. Thus, the task fell to An Jiu.
The thought of looking after a Princess as frail as a delicate flower gave An Jiu a great headache.
But the Emperor’s command was absolute; he couldn’t disobey. Thinking this, An Jiu reappeared.
Shen Panyan’s mind was a mess, jumping between the past and the present.
She thought of her Imperial Mother’s constant scolding, her Imperial Father’s increasingly disappointed gaze, and the barely concealed perfunctory attitude of the people around her. The tears became impossible to stop.
Just then, a pure white handkerchief entered her vision.
A stiff, unpracticed voice of comfort sounded by her ear.
“Your Highness, stop crying.”