Killer Queen: Tyrant, prepare to die!

The moment the candlelight exploded, Shen Qingci's hand landed on the dagger at her waist—it was muscle memory.

Three years later, this body still retains the vigilance of an assassin.

At this moment, Nangong Ye was standing in front of her.

He changed into light black armor and wore the Emperor's sword at his waist.

He deliberately concealed his sickly appearance.

But the bloodshot eyes and the thin layer of pink on his lips couldn't fool her—this man could collapse at any moment.

"I've changed my mind," he said calmly. "I'll be the bait."

Shen Qingci put down the half-finished deployment map and left a dot of ink on the parchment with the tip of his pen.

She looked up at him and suddenly felt that the scene was absurd.

Three years ago, when she first woke up in this body

My mind is filled with two fragments of Shen Qingci's memories—

The original owner's sixteen-year-old girl's infatuation with her young husband, and the despair and hatred that grew during three months of torment in the cold palace.

Those memories washed over her like a tidal wave, making her momentarily unable to distinguish who she was.

But at this moment, she knew very well.

She is Ye Huang.

He is an assassin from the 21st century.

Having also emerged from the cold palace, Shen Qingci personally built Tingfeng Tower and Jinxiu Workshop over the past three years and now stands on the battlefield of the Northern Frontier.

The original owner's loves, hates, and grudges were the heavy baggage carried by this body, not hers.

"Is Your Majesty joking?"

Her voice carried just the right amount of sarcasm—

This is the tone that Shen Qingci would use in the original owner's memories.

But at its core is her own calm analysis.

"I never joke."

Nangong Ye braced his hands on the edge of the table, leaning over and staring at her.

"The biggest flaw in your plan is that if Temujin sees that his commander is a woman, he will suspect a trap."

But if it were me…”

"If it were His Majesty,"

Shen Qingci interrupted him, stood up,

"Thirty thousand against fifty thousand, holding out for two days. Do you think you can do it?"

She took a step forward, almost nose to nose with him.

This distance allowed her to clearly see the bloodshot veins in his eyes.

I could smell the ambergris mixed with the scent of medicine on him.

Shen Qingci stood up, walked to him, and her gaze was as calm as if she were presenting military intelligence.

"Although the 'Bone-Corroding Fragrance' you have been afflicted with is being suppressed with medication, the poison has already seeped into your marrow. If you circulate more than 30% of your energy, you will cough up blood."

There was also the "Love Gu" that Liu Chengming had sent to the palace years ago—although the Gu worm was forced out by Eunuch Li, the damage to his heart meridian was real.

Every word she spoke was like an icicle.

"The meridians are damaged, and the coughing up of blood has not yet healed."

I reviewed the army doctor's medical records last night—if you continue this strenuous work for another three days, even a miracle won't save you.

Nangong Ye's pupils contracted slightly, clearly not expecting her to know so much detail.

"That's still better than letting you go!"

He slammed his hand on the table, causing the writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone on it to jump up.

"Shen Qingci, listen carefully: if we win this battle, the northern border will enjoy peace for a hundred years."

They lost, and the Nangong dynasty was thrown into turmoil.

Win or lose, I cannot let you die there!

Shen Qingci looked at his red-rimmed eyes.

Looking at his hands, which were trembling slightly with excitement, I suddenly felt a strange sense of disconnect.

In my memory, if sixteen-year-old Shen Qingci heard such words, she would probably cry, right?

That silly girl loved this man until she died.

But she wasn't.

"So you can die?"

She countered with a question, her voice still calm.

"Nangong Ye, this is not the time to show personal heroism."

This is war, and war demands victory, not tragic scenes of people dying for each other.

She paused, then added, "Besides, your life is worth more than mine—"

Not just for me, but for this entire nation.

If the emperor dies in battle, Prince Jing will surely rebel, the vassal kings will surely rebel, the Western Ridge will surely rebel, and the Jiangnan region will surely descend into chaos.

The situation I just gained can collapse in an instant.

This is purely a strategic calculation.

The mindset of a modern assassin, the logic of an intelligence analyst.

Nangong Ye, as if stung, grabbed her wrist:

"And what about you? In your heart, am I just an 'emperor'?"

Is it merely "a part of the country"?

He used a lot of force, and I felt a clear pain in my wrist.

Shen Qingci did not struggle.

She looked into his eyes, into the churning pain and despair within them.

Suddenly, some scenes from the original owner's memories came to mind—

On their wedding night, the young prince's eyes shone like stars when he lifted his veil.

Outside the cold palace, the emperor's carriage departed without looking back.

These memories do not belong to her.

But it is truly stored in the brain of this body.

Occasionally, it will surface uncontrollably, just like it is now.

There are also her memories of Ye Huang, the trembling hands of him rushing in and picking up her and Bao'er in the sea of ​​fire.

"How does Your Majesty wish me to answer?"

She heard herself speak, and her voice even sounded a little tired.

"You're important? More important than the country?"

She gently withdrew her hand, her fingertips inadvertently brushing against his palm.

"Three years ago, you sentenced Shen Qingci to death with the saying, 'A ruler should prioritize the country.'"

She turned around, her back to him.

"Now, I'm telling you the same logic—you can't lose your life at Luoyingpo."

This is not the time to let emotions get the better of you.

The moment she said those words, she felt a complex mix of emotions.

The heartbreak of the young girl Shen Qingci in her memory, and her own calm assessment as Ye Huang, collided in her chest like two tides.

She couldn't tell which side was more real.

But she knew what to do.

"Your Majesty." Her voice suddenly softened as she turned around.

Nangong Ye was stunned.

She reached out and lightly touched his brow with her fingertips—

This is an action that Shen Qingci often did, as I remember it.

When Nangong Ye was young and tired from reviewing memorials, she would smooth his brow like this.

Her fingertips slid slowly down the bridge of his nose, finally stopping at his lips.

Her movements were unusually gentle.

Nangong Ye froze, even holding his breath.

He looked at her, a glimmer of disbelief and hope flashing in his eyes.

Then--

She suddenly flipped her wrist!

With fingertips pressed together like a knife, they precisely cut a certain acupoint on the side of his neck!

Those were scenes from the original owner's memories:

In the imperial study, the young prince held her hand.

He said with a smile, "Here, with just a light press, a person will faint."

In case of assassins, and I am unable to save you in time, you can protect yourself.

Now, she uses the techniques he taught the original owner to fight him.

Nangong Ye's pupils contracted sharply, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but his consciousness quickly faded.

He swayed and fell forward.

Shen Qingci caught him, her movements steady without the slightest tremor.

They helped him to lie down on the soft couch and pulled a thin blanket over him.

He reached out to check her pulse—it was steady; she was only temporarily unconscious.

Throughout the entire process, two voices were fighting in her head.

The Shen Qingci in my memory screamed: What are you doing?! It's A-Ye!

Her own voice calmly responded: He is hindering the mission and must be controlled.

After doing all this, she said to the shadows, "Come out."

Xuan Ying appeared, kneeling on one knee with his head bowed low.

"Keep an eye on His Majesty."

Shen Qingci's voice returned to calm.

"Until the good news came."

He is not to leave Blackrock City, not even a step. If he insists on leaving—”

She paused, then said, "Just knock him out. Use the trick I just used; you know how to do it."

Xuan Ying's shoulders trembled: "Your Majesty, after His Majesty woke up..."

"That's my business."

Shen Qingci walked to the table, put away the defense map,

"You just need to remember: His Majesty's life is more important than mine."

It's not because he's anyone to me—"

She turned and looked at the unconscious man on the bed, her voice very soft:

"Because he is Bao'er's father. My son can't be without a father."

She felt a strange sense of relief as soon as she said those words.

This is true emotion.

Memories not from the original owner

Not from the inertia of this body,

Rather, it was the maternal instinct and responsibility that naturally grew from her three years of nurturing and protecting her baby.

Xuan Ying nodded emphatically: "Your subordinate swears to protect you with his life!"

Shen Qingci glanced at Nangong Ye one last time.

His brows were furrowed, and even in his unconscious state, his face showed signs of pain.

She suddenly remembered the painting Bao'er had drawn—a little figure pointing at a hillside surrounded by black dots.

"sorry."

She spoke softly, so softly that only she could hear it.

"But this is a battle only I can fight."

After saying that, she turned around and strode out of the study.

---

At the same moment, in the capital city, at the Phoenix Perch Villa.

Bao'er suddenly sat up in bed, her face pale and panting heavily.

"Bao'er?" Jinshu woke up with a start.

"Mother..."

Bao'er's voice trembled, her little hands clutching tightly to her chest.

"Mother is going to...a very, very dark place..."

He "saw" it.

It wasn't with the eyes, but with that strange sense of perception.

Mother stood on a high hillside, behind her were soldiers in black armor.

On the other side—an endless cavalry force like a black tide, the sound of their hooves shaking the ground.

And... a few gray-black "lines" stretching from far to the south.

(He felt it was at Prince Jing's grandfather's place).

Like a venomous snake, it crept up the hillside, trying to entangle its mother.

"Write a letter!" Bao'er jumped off the bed barefoot, ran to the window, and opened the pigeon coop.

"Use 'Lightning'! Now!"

Jinshu dared not be negligent, and laid out paper and ground ink.

Bao'er grabbed a pen and drew on the paper: a little red person (Mommy) standing on a hillside.

The surrounding area was covered with black dots.

A gray line extends from behind the black dot, with a crooked crown drawn at the end of the line.

Then, an inward-pointing arrow was drawn on the southeast corner of the hillside, and a cross was drawn on it.

"Tell Mother," Bao'er said, stuffing the note into a thin bamboo tube and tying it to the black pigeon's leg.

"Watch out for the bad guys behind you, and don't go southeast."

"Lightning" made two cooing sounds, flapped its wings, and disappeared into the night.

Bao'er leaned on the windowsill, looking at the northern sky, and tears silently fell down her cheeks.

"Aunt Jinshu," he asked softly, "where is Father?"

Jinshu was taken aback: "His Majesty is in the Northern Border."

"Daddy's sleeping." Bao'er wiped away her tears. "He's sleeping so soundly...Mommy won't let him wake up."

He paused, then said, "But Father is having a nightmare. In the dream... there's fire."

Jinshu's heart tightened, and she hugged Bao'er tightly: "Don't be afraid, Your Majesty and the Emperor will be safe."

"Yes." Bao'er nodded vigorously. "Mother promised Bao'er that she would definitely come back."

As he said this, he clenched his little hands in front of his chest—

There was a small, warm jade pendant, a talisman his mother had left him before she passed away.

---

Before the army set off.

Shen Qingci is inspecting the saddle and equipment of his warhorse.

This was her habit as an assassin—

It is foolish to entrust your life to equipment that has been inspected by others at any time.

Her eyes narrowed as her fingers brushed against the bottom of the saddle.

A very fine scratch, fresh.

The location was very well hidden, as if someone was trying to pry open the saddle pad and stuff something inside.

Without showing any emotion, she summoned her personal guards: "Who was in charge of preparing this horse?"

"Your Majesty, it is Zhang Laosan from the stable. He is an old man who has served General Xiao for eight years."

"Bring him here."

Zhang Laosan was a veteran in his forties.

He was limping on one leg and looked bewildered as he approached.

"Your Highness, is there something wrong with this horse?"

Shen Qingci stared into his eyes: "The saddle has been tampered with."

Zhang Laosan's face changed, and he knelt down with a thud: "Your Majesty, please see the truth! I absolutely did not—"

"I didn't say it was you."

Shen Qingci crouched down to look him in the eye.

"But besides you, who else has been to the stables today?"

Sweat beaded on Zhang Laosan's forehead as he tried hard to recall:

"In the morning... Steward Liu from the stable came by, saying he was checking the fodder."

And, and there's Wang Ergou who delivers water... Oh right!

The messenger captain from Prince Jing's residence also passed by and said he had taken the wrong turn...

Prince Jing's Mansion.

Shen Qingci's eyes turned cold.

She stood up and whispered to Mo Shisan:

"Investigate that captain."

In addition, this horse should be replaced.

All officers' warhorses were re-inspected, especially their saddles, reins, and horseshoes.

"Yes."

After Mo Shisan left in a hurry, Shen Qingci went to the spare warhorse and inspected it personally.

Her hand paused slightly as she stroked the horse's neck.

There was a small patch of fur on the side of the horse's neck that was slightly darker than the surrounding area—it was wet, but not dripping wet.

It looked like someone had wiped it with a damp cloth, trying to cover something up.

She leaned closer and smelled it.

It has a very faint, sweet, and fishy smell.

"Take him away."

She immediately told her personal guards.

"This horse is kept in solitary confinement, and no one is allowed to approach it."

Go and fetch Physician Chen again, and have him take a look.

After doing all this, she walked toward the army that had already lined up.

Fifty thousand soldiers, a dark mass, their banners fluttering in the morning breeze.

She mounted her horse, her red robes and silver armor dazzling in the rising sun, making her almost too bright to look at directly.

Xiao Jue led 10,000 elite troops to stand on the other side, ready to set off to carry out a surprise attack mission.

The two exchanged a glance, and Xiao Jue clasped his hands in a fist salute: "Your Majesty, take care."

"General Xiao is also one of them."

Shen Qingci paused, then added in a low voice,

"If things cannot be done...the priority is to preserve oneself."

"We can fight the royal court another time; we can't let our ten thousand elite troops be wasted."

Xiao Jue's eyes welled up slightly, and he nodded emphatically.