The Princess’ Shadow Guard – Chapter 34

How Could Ah Qin Die (PTSD)

These past few days, whenever Ming Qin held Murong Yan, she could feel her body growing ever more slender. So, she placed all the food from the table in front of Murong Yan, patiently coaxing her to eat a little more.

The woman before her chewed slowly and meticulously. Fearing she might choke, Ming Qin hurriedly went to boil some hot water, not noticing the ache and longing in Murong Yan’s eyes.

            

After Ming Qin poured the water for her, she propped her arms up and watched with a grin as the woman ate, as if she herself would become happier with every extra bite Murong Yan took.

“Ah Qin isn’t eating?” Murong Yan asked, seeing the person before her merely staring, with only one set of bowl and chopsticks on the table.

Ming Qin waved her hand and said, “I’ve already eaten. You eat more.”

            

For a Shadow Guard, hunger during a mission was the norm.

Besides, she had already eaten some dry rations while Murong Yan was fast asleep; the sweet potato she had accidentally burnt to a crisp had also been eliminated, entering her stomach.

Murong Yan silently ate half of the dishes on the table, then put down her bowl and chopsticks.

            

Seeing that the woman had no intention of picking up her chopsticks again, Ming Qin tilted her head in confusion. “Not eating anymore? Please, have a little more.”

“But if Ah Qin doesn’t eat, I don’t have much of an appetite either.” As if she knew the person before her certainly hadn’t eaten her fill, Murong Yan picked up the egg from her bowl, brought it to Ming Qin’s lips, and coaxed the somewhat hesitant Shadow Guard, “Eat it. Just consider it keeping me company.”

Hearing this, Ming Qin leaned forward. Her lips brushed past the woman’s cool fingers as she took the egg in one bite.

            

Her cheeks were puffed out by the egg, making her injured left cheek appear swollen and raised. [LP: The source text uses 種 (zhǒng/zhòng), which typically means “to plant.” This is likely a typo for 肿 (zhǒng), meaning “swollen,” which fits the context perfectly.]

A smile on her lips, Murong Yan lowered her head to pick up more food. In the next second, she heard a drip, drip, drip sound on the tabletop. Looking up, she saw crimson blood gushing from Ming Qin’s nostrils, an unstoppable flow mixed with dark red clots.

Ming Qin didn’t seem to have noticed, thinking only that the tip of her nose was itchy. She glanced down at the blood on the table and then hurriedly covered her nose, retreating to the window as if afraid of dirtying the food on the table.

            

Seeing Ming Qin’s face covered in fresh blood, Murong Yan’s face instantly turned a deathly pale, her lips trembling as she reached a hand out to her.

The warm blood stained Ming Qin’s hands. Deeply afraid that her blood-soaked appearance would frighten Murong Yan, she opened her mouth, about to tell the woman she was going to the well outside to clean up. But before she could make a sound, a blood clot flowed from her nasal cavity into her throat, catching her completely off guard, causing her to cough uncontrollably.

“Cough… cough cough…” With every wracking cough, more blood streamed from Ming Qin’s nose, making it impossible for her to speak for a moment.

            

“Ah Qin. Ah Qin!” Murong Yan rose in a panic, stumbling on her limping foot as she rushed toward Ming Qin. A porcelain cup was knocked over, and warm water dripped from the edge of the table to the floor.

Ignoring the overturned water completely, Murong Yan’s tone held a terror and panic she had never before revealed. “Ah Qin… what’s wrong with you!”

The coughing didn’t stop. The ceaseless blood made Ming Qin hastily unfasten her black Shadow Guard outer robe to press against her nose and mouth to stanch the flow. The collar of the white inner shirt she wore underneath was already soaked through with blood.

            

Looking at Murong Yan, the speechless Ming Qin could only wave her hands frantically, signaling for her not to come closer, afraid that the blood all over her would dirty her hands and stain her clothes.

But Murong Yan didn’t care in the slightest. Her heart filled with torment and worry, she reached out to cup Ming Qin’s face, trying to help stop the bleeding. A lump formed in her throat, and her voice was nearly off-key, “…Ah Qin, what is happening to you? Does it hurt?”

Ming Qin, her head full of fog and water​¹ as to why she was bleeding, just shook her head slightly to signal that she shouldn’t worry, pointing a finger toward the window to indicate she was going outside.

            

Then, before Murong Yan could react, she pushed open the window with her elbow, vaulted over the sill, and vanished into the snowy night.

The trail of dripping red on the floor extended from the wooden table to outside the window. The water spilled on the ground merged with the bloodstains, but it couldn’t wash away the bloodiness of it all, only making it appear all the more glaring. [LP: The source text uses 灑虿 (sǎ chài). The character 虿 means scorpion and is likely a typo for 在 (zài), which would form the common phrase 洒在地上 (sǎ zài dìshang), “spilled on the ground.”]

Staring at Ming Qin’s blood on her hand, Murong Yan’s hand trembled violently. Her mind felt completely blank; only the pulsing sight of the bright red on her hand stimulated her nerves.

            

Ah Qin, what’s wrong with Ah Qin?

Ah Qin… is bleeding?

She lost so much blood.

            

With so much blood, will she die?

Just like Mother, who was bleeding back then.

As if she’d lost all her strength, Murong Yan leaned against the wall, her body gradually sliding down.

            

Ignoring her blood-covered hands, Murong Yan’s fingers curled, pressing hard against her own mouth, daring not to make a sound, as if forcing herself to suppress the absurd thought that had just flashed through her mind.

No.

No, no, no!

            

Ah Qin won’t die.

How could Ah Qin die!

If that were to happen, the heavens would be too cruel.

            

Murong Yan gripped her own arms, as if embracing herself to keep the dikes from breaking​², repeating it over and over in her heart.

It’s impossible for Ah Qin to leave me.

Impossible.

            

Impossible.

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In the grand hall of the Imperial Palace, Murong Xiao, whose clothes and hat were always immaculate, was sprawled on the Dragon Throne with his hair in disarray, surrounded by overturned jade flasks.

Dozens of civil officials in their court robes knelt on the floor, submitting to the man who sat high above, reeking of alcohol.

            

“You’re saying you still haven’t found her?” Murong Xiao looked scornfully at the crowd prostrating before him, toying with a jade cup full of wine.

The man in red who had been addressed kowtowed heavily, the thump, thump of his head echoing in the vast hall. In a trembling, terrified tone, he said, “This subject sent all of his men to follow the trail of Commandery Princess Chongwen. They rode swiftly north, all the way to the upper reaches of the canal, where they found an opportunity to intercept the boat, but…”

“But?” Murong Xiao raised an eyebrow, his gaze condescending, his tone chilling.

            

“But we discovered the person on the boat was not the Commandery Princess, but seemingly a servant in disguise, attempting to deceive our eyes and ears.” The man in red swallowed, his voice fraught with anxiety, his head pressed tightly to the floor. “This subject’s men have already executed them and are currently still searching for the Commandery Princess’s true whereabouts.”

The man in red was terrified, but the expected tirade never came. He looked up, somewhat puzzled, only to see Murong Xiao walking slowly toward him, holding the wine cup with a blank expression.

The man’s face, despite his frantic drinking, had not turned red, but was instead even paler than before. Walking up to the prostrating man, he slowly tilted the cup.

            

The warm wine flowed down the red-robed man’s hair crown, down his neck, and into his collar. A few drops mixed with the sweat on his forehead, dripped from his chin, and stained the great red carpet on the floor.

“Gu treats you to wine… is it good?” Murong Xiao crouched down, speaking slowly, like a viper flicking its tongue.

The man in red couldn’t figure out the temperament of the man before him, whose joy and anger were without constancy. He could only say in a trembling, humble voice, “G-Good… It’s good.”

            

“Is that so.” Murong Xiao smiled, then violently grabbed the man’s collar. Digging his fingers into the man’s mouth, he shoved the jade cup inside and laughed maniacally, his eyes sinister and ruthless. “Then you will drink more for Gu.”

Murong Xiao pinned the struggling man to the floor, using the full force of his body to press down on his nose and mouth. The small cup slid down the man’s air-starved throat, causing him to clutch at his own neck, foaming at the mouth.

Taking out a handkerchief in disgust to wipe his hands, Murong Xiao stood up, his gaze like he was looking at a sewer rat as he watched the man struggle on the ground with wide, staring eyes.

            

Throughout the entire hall, aside from the man’s pained, muffled grunts, no one else dared to speak, lest they be unable to save themselves.

After a few breaths’ time, there was utter silence once more.

Murong Xiao nonchalantly averted his gaze, slowly walking before the crowd. “You can’t find a few hiding rats in the capital city, and you can’t even find Gu’s older sister outside the city. What use are you to Gu.”

            

“Hn?” Murong Xiao suddenly kicked the head of the person nearest to him, roaring, “What use does Gu have for you bunch of rice buckets?!”​³

The person who was kicked to the ground gritted his teeth, not daring to make a single sound.

“Xiao He!”

            

Hearing the Crown Prince’s roar, a man with a scar on his face who was standing guard outside the hall doors immediately pushed them open and entered. “This subject is here.”

“You no longer need to manage affairs in the army. Leave the capital immediately and help Gu bring Jiejie back.” Murong Xiao looked at the man kneeling on one knee before him, his eyes bloodshot as he roared hysterically, “At any cost, bring Jiejie back.”

His voice was filled with madness.

            

“If any stand in your way, kill them.”

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The author has something to say:

The Commandery Princess has PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), or what’s called 創傷後應激障礙, because she once watched her mother die and was also injured herself.

            

This means that under a specific “Trigger” (is it called ‘bǎnjī’ [板機] in Chinese?) she’ll have a panic attack (a “stress reaction” [應激反應]?).

P.S. Oh right~ I heard my story was recommended. I don’t know who it was, but I’m truly grateful from the bottom of my heart (as expected, my readers are all super gentle and super doting on me!).

I really love reading everyone’s comments. I read every single one of them seriously, and they always make me laugh.

            

For someone to like the story I write and share it with people around them who also love to read is truly a joyful thing.

I hope everyone can be happy and have a wonderful week.

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LP: Re-translated on July 10, 2025

            

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