The Princess’ Shadow Guard – Chapter 33
by Little PandaAh Qin, I’m hungry
Ming Qin, driving the horse-drawn carriage north, arrived at the inn where she would rest for the night just before the sky turned completely dark. She estimated that the time was about right.
The carriage she had tampered with should have overturned by now. Hopefully, the kiss of hungry wolves would be enough to take that damn man’s life, or at least bite off his four limbs.
If she hadn’t been in a hurry to travel, she would have personally cut off his head for Murong Yan to play with like a ball, Ming Qin thought, then shook her head abruptly.
How could something so foul-smelling and bloody be worthy of being seen by the celestial fairy-like Murong Yan.
“Ah Qin?” The woman in her arms, seeing Ming Qin shake her head strangely, wrapped her arms around her neck and asked worriedly, “What’s wrong?”
“Hm? It’s nothing.”
Looking down at Murong Yan before her, whose beauty could topple a city with a single glance1 and was as dazzling as rosy clouds, Ming Qin suppressed the vicious, bloodthirsty images in her mind. She gently placed her on the bed planks and then said, “You rest first. I’m going to the kitchen out back to take a look.”
Murong Yan’s hands holding onto Ming Qin tightened, only relaxing a moment later as she said, “Go on.”
The inn they were staying at today was not as lively as the one from the day before. There was only a single attendant watching over the shop, all alone. The simple, almost shabby, furnishings combined with the old building made it seem rather dilapidated.
Ming Qin went downstairs and followed the attendant to the inn’s kitchen. Seeing the stove, which was even cruder than the one at the last inn, and the iron woks scattered on the ground that could hardly be called clean, she frowned.
The further north they went, away from the capital city, the more sparse the inns became, but she had never expected even the kitchen to be this crude.
Her gaze swept over to the cook squatting in the corner smoking tobacco. His fingernails looked like they hadn’t been cut in half a month, with black grime embedded inside them, and his greasy-looking cuffs were casually rolled up to his elbows.
She feared that no matter how much silver she offered, this place would be incapable of making food that could satisfy Murong Yan.
No, rather, she would absolutely not allow the food made here to enter Murong Yan’s mouth.
Ming Qin tugged at her hair in frustration, not knowing what to do.
In the room, Murong Yan had changed her clothes and then, exhausted, had uncontrollably fallen into a deep sleep. By the time she awoke, the sky was already completely dark, and outside, a fierce wind carrying fine snow was howling, making the wooden window frame creak and rattle.
Compared to the howling cold wind outside, the charcoal brazier in the corner of the room had not gone out, making the entire room toasty warm.
The oil lamp lit by the bedside emitted a yellowish-orange halo, illuminating the black-clothed person sitting on the floor with their back to the bed, dozing.
For some reason, Murong Yan was unwilling to make a sound. She just quietly shifted her body to get behind Ming Qin, bending down and tilting her head to gaze at her uninjured side-profile.
The stone from her own ornament on Ming Qin’s earlobe emitted a deep red glow. On her closed eyelids, each and every eyelash was draped in a layer of golden-yellow by the oil lamp, and her chest rose and fell with each steady breath.
Even while resting, her spine was held perfectly straight. With her eyes closed, her tranquil expression lacked its usual frankness, possessing instead a bit more heroic spirit and a trace of a coldness that she was unfamiliar with.
Murong Yan felt a little uneasy watching her, as if the person before her might, because of this trace of coldness, fling her hand away and leave at any moment.
She tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear, leaned in, and tilting her neck, moved to kiss Ming Qin.
The moment the warmth of her breath touched Ming Qin’s cheek, the shadow guard’s tightly shut eyes snapped open, revealing the clear pupils Murong Yan was so familiar with. She felt relieved, yet she did not stop leaning forward.
Ming Qin felt the familiar moistness on her lips and, afraid that Murong Yan was straining herself, turned and knelt up high to pull Murong Yan into her embrace.
The softness of Murong Yan’s lips brushed past the other’s teeth, like a silent command, gently teasing.
Ming Qin, long familiar with the woman’s disposition, obediently responded, beginning to lick and caress delicately with her tongue. [LP: The original text uses 舌忝舐 (shé tiǎn shì). The character 忝 (tiǎn) is likely a typo/self-censorship for the homophone 舔 (tiǎn), which means “to lick.”]
“Ah Qin.”
Murong Yan, who had just woken up, was so stimulated by Ming Qin’s gentle, lingering kiss that she couldn’t bear it. In a gap between breaths, she murmured, “Don’t hold back for my sake.”
“But this could hurt you,” Ming Qin said, her fingers tracing along Murong Yan’s cheek to gently stroke the soft curve of her ear.
“I want you to be rougher, alright?” the woman’s tone was earnest, her hands wrapped around Ming Qin’s neck.
Ming Qin frowned slightly, troubled. “But…”
“Yanyan begs Ah Qin.” The woman’s voice was soft, as if she would burst into tears if refused.
Never able to bear refusing her, Ming Qin relented, placing a hand on the back of Murong Yan’s head. She said, somewhat helplessly, “If it’s too much for you, just give me a little push, alright?”
“Alright…”
The moment Murong Yan finished her reply, she felt her breath being stolen away. The person before her pressed forward, faithfully carrying out the request.
The person who was always so docile and gentle now had a gaze filled with possession, and the kisses that fell like a torrential downpour were completely devoid of their usual tenderness.
After a long while, Ming Qin stopped and propped herself up, gazing down at Murong Yan.
“You’re crying?” Her expression was flustered, and she spoke guiltily, “I’m sorry.”
The woman’s lips were bitten a vivid red. She raised a hand to touch her own face, and her fingertips were indeed stained with the tears that snaked down her cheeks.
Seeing the person before her looking so utterly anxious, Murong Yan, though still panting, felt a little like laughing.
Ming Qin reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks, lowering her head guiltily. “I was too rough. I’m sorry.”
Feeling as if her body was so soft it might melt, Murong Yan gestured for the person kneeling over her waist to help her up. She rested her chin on Ming Qin’s shoulder, catching her breath.
Her breath puffed against the garnet on Ming Qin’s earlobe. After a moment, Murong Yan said in a low voice, “It didn’t hurt. I cried because I was happy.”
They were tears shed from nearly reaching the peak.
Seeing the uncomprehending expression on the other’s face, Murong Yan gave a low laugh and tried to dispel the strange feeling in her body, changing the subject. “Ah Qin, I’m hungry.”
Hearing this, a matter greater than the heavens2, Ming Qin immediately threw her guilt and confusion to the back of her mind, exclaiming, “Right, right, right, eating first is what’s important!” Then, she carried Murong Yan to the table with one arm.
On the wooden table was a folded quilt. Ming Qin pulled the quilt away to reveal an overturned iron wok. Beneath the wok were several still-warm sweet potatoes, and to the side were two boiled eggs, a few saucers of pickled vegetables, and a bowl of white rice cooked to a glistening, translucent sheen.
“Look!” Ming Qin gestured as if presenting a treasure. After setting Murong Yan down, she pushed all the food on the table in front of her, then sat down opposite her, watching her with an expectant gaze.
“This…” Murong Yan looked at the dishes on the table—simple and plain, but with the advantage of being clean and not at all greasy—and felt surprised. “Ah Qin, did the inn’s cook make this?”
Ming Qin shook her head, saying with a proud expression, “I found these outside the inn!”
Looking at the vast wind and snow outside the window, Murong Yan felt it was a bit strange. “It’s a vast expanse of white snow out here. Where did you find all this, Ah Qin?” [LP: The original text uses 床外 (chuángwài), “outside the bed.” This is likely a typo for the near-homophone 窗外 (chuāngwài), “outside the window”.]
“I went to a nearby village, asked the villagers there if they needed any help, and exchanged for it.” Ming Qin said with a calm, unconcerned expression, as if completely indifferent to the fact that even the nearest village was 30 li3 away, and that she had to travel swiftly through the forest in a blizzard to get there.
“When I first got to the village, I knocked on doors one by one, but no one believed me. Later, an old man asked me to help him chop firewood because his back was bad.”
As Ming Qin spoke, she peeled an eggshell, placing the smooth, tender boiled egg into the bowl in front of Murong Yan. “These two eggs were from that old man. Later, when the other villagers saw that I was telling the truth, they all came to ask for my help.”
Murong Yan looked at the even more severe chilblains on the fingertips of the person before her, and simply held her chopsticks in a daze, speechless.
“I also knocked on many doors asking if they had any white rice.”
Ming Qin picked up a sweet potato and started peeling it, continuing to ramble on, “In the end, only the village chief’s family had any. That old grandpa wasn’t willing to give it to me at first, because it was what he was saving to make congee with when he got sick. No matter how I begged, he wouldn’t give it to me—that grandpa was so stubborn! It was only after I went into the woods and caught two snow hares for him that he agreed to give me the white rice.”
Even on a snowy, windy day, catching rabbits in a pitch-black forest is very difficult, even with my superhuman senses and martial skill. But being able to let Murong Yan eat a good meal makes anything worthwhile, Ming Qin thought with delight.
“Hurry up and eat!”
Seeing the person before her still not moving her chopsticks, Ming Qin grew a little anxious. She held the sweet potato in her hand up to Murong Yan’s mouth. “Go on, try it. I roasted this one, it’s delicious! In the past, whenever Senior Brother and Senior Sister couldn’t stomach the food Shiniang made, they would secretly roast sweet potatoes in the camp. This is the only thing I know how to make.” [LP: The original text uses 考 (kǎo), meaning “to test,” which is likely a typo for the homophone 烤 (kǎo), meaning “to roast”.]
Stared at intently by Ming Qin’s bright, clear eyes, Murong Yan woodenly opened her mouth and took a bite of the sweet potato, which was still steaming hot. The soft, dense texture and sweet aroma spread across the tip of her tongue.
But she chewed for a long, long time.
Her throat felt tight and dry, as if blocked by a stone, and her nose tingled with a building sourness. She no longer knew what the food in her mouth tasted like.
Even though the sweet potato had been chewed to a pulp, saliva mixing with the sweetness, Murong Yan still couldn’t swallow.
She just stared blankly at the person before her, her heart aching terribly.
The author has something to say:
Regarding whether there will be a second book after the main story of this one is finished, I am seriously considering it. There are so many stories playing in my head right now, to the point where they are all fighting to be broadcast at the same time.
The part I’m more hesitant about is that I might be busier later with starting a job and pursuing a PhD, so I won’t have as much time as I do now (I’m truly experiencing a rare break in my life right now).
If I really do write another one, I will probably stock up on some draft chapters first, to be responsible to myself and to those who support me. I really cherish everyone’s favor and encouragement~ Every time I read your comments, I can’t stop smiling (so silly).
The current candidate stories are of all kinds: apocalyptic fantasy, modern fantasy, campus + urban romance, European-style court ABO, futuristic online gaming, or even another historical alternate universe. I can write any of them, and each will have my own niche style (?), and none of them will be super long. They’ll probably be like this story of the commandery princess and the shadow guard; I’ll finish when I’ve told the story I want to tell, and I won’t pad it with filler or drag it out.
When I decide which story to favor (?) first, I’ll report back to everyone~
PS. However, the most important thing today is, please make some room in the comment section for my baby carriage parking spot4, thank you.
LP: Re-translated on July 09, 2025
Footnotes
- 一顧傾城 | yī gù qīng chéng | A chengyu literally meaning “one glance that topples a city.” It is used to describe a woman of devastating beauty.
- 比天大 | bǐ tiān dà | A common expression literally meaning “bigger than the sky,” used to describe something of utmost importance.
- Original: 30 li. One li (里) is a traditional Chinese unit of distance, approximately 500 meters. 30 li is 15 km.
- 娃娃車位 | wáwá chēwèi | “Baby carriage parking spot.” This is modern internet slang. A “car” (車) is slang for explicit or steamy content.
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