After Being Marked by the Eldest Princess, I Got Pregnant with Her Child [Transmigration into a Novel] - Chapter 16

The Young Master’s curved blade clattered to the ground as a mouthful of blood sprayed from her lips. Seventeen’s sword tip pressed against her forehead, her gaze icy.

“It’s you.”

The Young Master understood now. During their previous encounter, she had sensed something this woman was Yan Chen’s bodyguard.

Seventeen’s voice was cold. “Yes. I’m here to kill you.”

The Young Master glanced at her fallen mask, her long hair disheveled. Was today the day she’d meet her end?

“Fine. Come at me, then.”

Defeated, the Young Master slumped slightly. Seventeen frowned and stepped forward cautiously.

“Whoosh—”

A burst of white smoke erupted around them. Seventeen immediately raised her arm to shield herself. That familiar scent, she should have known this woman wouldn’t surrender so easily.

The Young Master leaped over the iron railings, landing on the second-floor rooftop before vanishing into the night.

Seventeen gave chase without hesitation.

Left behind were the spectators, some gasping in awe, others sighing in disappointment. The wolf was dead, yet no reward had been claimed.

Song Shujiu had melted into a boneless puddle in Yan Chen’s arms. Wrapping her tightly, Yan Chen leaped through a window and fled.

The Mistress of Buddha Pavilion arrived at the scene, surveying the wreckage with a dark expression. How dare they cause trouble on her turf?

Her sharp eyes caught a flash of crimson in the sky, a veiled figure carrying someone in her arms.

“Stop her,” the Mistress ordered, her voice low and dangerous.

Glancing at the bloodied arena, she wrinkled her nose at the stench. “Clean this up. Prepare for the next match.”

Yan Chen carried Song Shujiu through the air, but soon realized they were being pursued. She turned and flung a volley of silver needles. Buddha Pavilion’s lackeys were relentless. A clean escape was impossible now.

Song Shujiu, still dazed from Yan Chen’s earlier affections, snapped back to her senses in the cold wind. “What’s happening?” she gasped.

She wasn’t blind, three masked figures were hot on their trail, their hostile intent unmistakable.

Yan Chen had no choice but to land. Gripping Song Shujiu’s hand, she scanned their surroundings before pointing to a winding path ahead. “In there,” she commanded.

Buddha Pavilion was a labyrinth. After several twists and turns, their pursuers only grew closer. Song Shujiu panicked. “What do we do?”

Yan Chen realized they were heading into a dead end until an octagonal shape caught her eye.

“A furnace. This is an alchemy chamber.”

Who knew the Mistress dabbled in cultivation?

She pulled Song Shujiu toward the chamber just as their pursuers closed in. “Surround them! No one escapes after defying the Mistress!”

Who would dare disrupt Buddha Pavilion’s arena? The Mistress would make them pay.

The alchemy chamber’s doors were sealed shut. Yan Chen channeled her energy and struck the doors exploded inward with a thunderous crash. Inside, the vast room was empty save for yellow drapes fluttering from the ceiling.

They dashed behind the curtains as footsteps pounded closer. Yan Chen hurled another round of needles. The attackers dodged, the projectiles embedding themselves into the pillars with a sharp clatter.

Song Shujiu panted heavily as Buddha Pavilion’s guards swarmed in. Yan Chen shielded her, her expression steely. She drew back her right palm and swung her left arm in a swift, brutal arc the force of her strike sent several assailants sprawling.

One guard swung a blade at Song Shujiu’s head. She screamed.

“Thwack—”

The muffled sound of a blade sinking into flesh left Song Shujiu stunned. The maid slowly collapsed, her eyes still carrying a trace of disbelief. Behind her stood Yan Chen, her ink-dark eyes gleaming as she yanked Song Shujiu toward her. Her gaze flicked to the window on the right, she had been assessing the layout since entering.

In alchemy chambers, the interiors were usually meticulously designed. That tightly shut window was likely the only exit to the outside. During alchemical processes, the main door would be sealed to prevent explosions, but there was typically an emergency exit. The window’s position marked the best escape route.

As they reached the window, a chilling voice laced with barely concealed malice sounded behind them: “How clever.”

It was the master of Buddha Pavilion, Hong Xiu.

Yan Chen met her gaze across the distance and smiled. “Likewise.”

Few within the Ghost Sect could have designed such an intricate alchemy chamber.

Yan Chen channeled force into her palm, striking the window repeatedly until a crack formed. The final blow sent splinters and dust flying. But when she looked outside, her expression darkened.

Hong Xiu pressed her lips together, amusement glinting in her eyes. “I think you two should stay.”

Beyond the window stretched a wide river, its surface shimmering under the moonlight. Yan Chen glanced back at her, gripping Song Shujiu’s hand. “Jump!” she gritted out.

Before Song Shujiu could protest, Yan Chen pulled her into a leap. Hong Xiu frowned and rushed forward, only to see the two land steadily on a dilapidated boat.

Who knew how long that wreck had been abandoned? Today, it served these two well.

“You came all this way, won’t you leave your names?”

Hong Xiu watched Yan Chen, her subordinates scattered and defeated. Letting them escape like this was… frustrating.

But the Ghost Market had its own rules. If someone escaped by their own skill, pursuit was forbidden anything else would be disgraceful.

“Just passing travelers. No need for the Pavilion Master to remember us.”

Once steady on the boat, Yan Chen flashed her a smile.

Outside Buddha Pavilion, there was no justification for further chase.

A close call, but no real danger. Hong Xiu laughed. “Fair enough. I’m not one to sulk over a loss just a few servants, after all.”

But next time they crossed paths? She’d break the rules if she had to.

The babbling stream carried the rickety boat and its two passengers into the distance.

Back at the princess’s estate, Song Shujiu could barely keep her eyes open. Yan Chen soothed her to sleep.

After taking her pulse, Hong Chou stood and turned to Yan Chen. “Your Highness.”

Yan Chen’s gaze softened as she looked at the bed, her voice gentle. “Any issues?”

Hong Chou replied, “During the early stages of pregnancy, Lady Kun needs careful nurturing. Once past the first three months, the pregnancy stabilizes, and complications are unlikely.”

As a natural neutral, Hong Chou couldn’t sense the pheromones on Song Shujiu, making her unaffected by gender dynamics one reason she’d been chosen as a shadow guard for the princess’s estate.

“No need to inform her yet.”

Yan Chen spoke lightly, as if recalling something.

Hong Chou hummed in acknowledgment, then froze in surprise. Did Song Shujiu not even know she was pregnant?

Heavens!

Whatever scheme the Grand Princess was weaving, Hong Chou left the prenatal prescription behind and withdrew.

Yan Chen studied the exhausted face on the bed, tucking the blankets around her. This girl was still in the dark, thinking it was just a common cold.

So be it. Yan Chen’s eyes darkened as she glanced at the prescription on the table, her thoughts unreadable.

Pregnant Kunniangs are typically highly sensitive, and Song Shujiu would likely be no exception.

However, the first three months are a critical period where nothing should go wrong. Yan Chen recalled how, within the Buddha Pavilion, Song Shujiu had melted into softness beneath her, twisting and turning those intoxicating sensations enveloped her even more intensely. Time flew when they were together, as if ascending to paradise. It seemed she had grown addicted to this body, unable to restrain herself whenever the scent of the elder’s pheromones was stirred. Clearly, she would need to prepare some special treasures for Song Shujiu.

Moonlight spilled through the window lattice, casting its glow over the two of them. Yan Chen gently caressed the sleeping woman’s cheek, the warm candlelight filling the room with a hazy, tender harmony.

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