Father

The blade pressed against Luo Zhao's throat.

It was too sharp.

So sharp that just by pressing against it, a very fine white mark was pressed into her neck.

And deep within that white mark, a line of red seeped out.

Blood.

Very fine.

As fine as the lightest stroke of a painter's brush.

But in Emperor Luo's eyes, it was too glaring.

So glaring that his imperial posture, which had never been shaken by anything.

Cracked a seam.

Emperor Luo panicked.

This supreme ruler of Great Luo, the paramount emperor, the man who held the power of life and death over the world...

Panicked.

His body sprang up abruptly from the soft couch.

He didn't even put on his shoes; those dragon-patterned boots woven from cloud brocade were left behind by the couch.

Emperor Luo stood barefoot on the ground just like that, his voice urgent:

"Alright, alright, alright!"

"I will listen to you!"

"I will immediately have the Heavenly Master Bureau in Luo Capital release Gu Chengyin!"

Emperor Luo stood three paces away from Luo Zhao, not daring to get any closer.

Afraid of startling her.

Afraid that the sword would advance another inch.

Afraid that the line of blood would deepen.

"Zhao'er!"

"You must calm down!"

Luo Zhao looked at him.

Looking at this man who had never lost his composure in front of her.

Looking at his bare feet, looking at his disheveled robes, looking at the genuine panic in his eyes.

The hand holding the sword paused slightly.

Then slowly moved the sword away a little.

From pressing against the throat, to half an inch away.

But she did not put it down.

Instead, she stared at Emperor Luo, her phoenix eyes showing no sign of retreat or wavering.

Emperor Luo immediately turned his head and called out loudly:

"Lyu Fang!"

"Lyu Fang!"

Outside the warm pavilion.

Lyu Fang was guarding outside the door, motionless.

Until he heard Emperor Luo's call and the urgency in his tone.

He immediately pushed the door open and rushed in.

At the same time.

In the shadows on the other side outside the warm pavilion.

When Shangguan Yunying saw Lyu Fang rush into the warm pavilion, a look of joy appeared in her eyes.

Just now, when Luo Zhao entered the warm pavilion, she took the opportunity to do something.

She sent a message to Gu Chengyin through the Luoshan Token.

Only four words: Her Highness meets His Majesty.

Shangguan Yunying didn't know how Gu Chengyin would use this message.

She only knew that Gu Chengyin had to live.

Now, Lyu Fang was urgently called inside.

What did this mean?

Did it mean Gu Chengyin had succeeded?

Shangguan Yunying's fingers trembled slightly, but she quickly steadied herself.

And put the Luoshan Token back into the deepest part of her embrace.

Then she raised her head and continued to look at the tightly closed door of the warm pavilion.

On her face, only a perfectly measured look of concern remained.

And when Lyu Fang rushed into the warm pavilion, the sight he saw made his footsteps stop dead.

Luo Zhao stood by the wall.

Holding that Imperial Sword of Authority in her hand.

The sword was half an inch away from her throat.

On her neck, there was a very, very fine blood mark.

On that blood mark, there was a line of red.

Lyu Fang's pupils shrank drastically. What had happened?!

Emperor Luo's voice came from the side, as urgent as beating drums.

"Lyu Fang!"

"Immediately contact the Heavenly Master Bureau in Luo Capital and tell them to release Gu Chengyin!"

Lyu Fang didn't ask why, didn't even respond verbally.

Instead, he immediately took out the Luoshan Token he carried with him.

This was a specially made token that could directly connect to the Heavenly Master Bureaus in various places.

The message was sent out.

Then came the waiting.

The warm pavilion fell into a dead silence.

This dead silence was too heavy.

So heavy that the faint crackling of the burning candles could be heard.

So heavy that Emperor Luo's urgent breathing could be heard.

So heavy that the slight trembling sound of the sword in Luo Zhao's hand could be heard.

One breath.

Three breaths.

Five breaths.

Lyu Fang raised his head and looked at Emperor Luo.

"Your Majesty."

"A message from the Heavenly Master Bureau in Luo Capital. Gu Chengyin is safe and sound."

Hearing this, Emperor Luo immediately turned to Luo Zhao and said urgently:

"Zhao'er!"

"Did you hear that?"

"Gu Chengyin is fine now!"

Emperor Luo's eyes were full of expectation.

"You can rest assured now, right?"

Luo Zhao looked at him.

Did not speak.

Did not move either.

Just stood there holding the sword.

And the real Luo Zhao, squeezed behind the consciousness puppet, watched all this helplessly.

She watched herself pointing a sword at herself.

Watched the blood mark on her neck.

Watched her royal father rush over barefoot.

Watched her royal father say he would listen to her.

Watched her royal father order Lyu Fang to send a message.

Watched her royal father... compromise for her.

Luo Zhao's heart was in complete turmoil.

Then she suddenly found she could move again.

Not a gradual recovery.

But a sudden return.

Like someone had flipped a switch, withdrawing the puppet and pushing her back to the forefront.

She had regained control of her body.

Luo Zhao froze.

She looked down at her hand.

The sword was still in her hand.

The sword was still pointing at her throat.

But this hand was now her hand.

Luo Zhao could feel the icy coldness of the sword hilt.

Could feel the slight trembling of her fingertips.

Could feel the wound on her neck throbbing with faint pain.

She raised her head to look at Emperor Luo.

Emperor Luo was also looking at her, his eyes full of expectation and worry.

"Zhao'er?"

His voice was somewhat cautious.

"Put the sword down, okay?"

Luo Zhao looked at him.

Looking at his bare feet, disheveled robes, and the panic in his eyes that had not completely faded.

Her lips moved.

But she couldn't say a word.

Because she didn't know how to face Emperor Luo.

The person just now who pointed the sword at herself, who threatened suicide for love...

Was not her.

Was not the real her.

But her royal father didn't know.

Her royal father thought that was her.

Her royal father thought his daughter could go to such lengths for a man.

Her royal father thought...

Luo Zhao closed her eyes.

When she opened her eyes again, she slowly lowered the sword in her hand.

The sword moved away from her neck and hung by her side.

Seeing this, Emperor Luo let out a long sigh of relief.

But he did not relax; instead, he immediately gave Lyu Fang a look.

This look was very subtle; only those who had been together for many years could understand it.

So Lyu Fang understood.

He slowly stepped forward.

His footsteps were extremely light, as light as stepping on clouds.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

When he was about three feet away from Luo Zhao.

He suddenly accelerated, his speed as fast as an afterimage.

Luo Zhao only felt her hand empty.

That Imperial Sword of Authority had already been snatched away by Lyu Fang.

Holding the sword, Lyu Fang stepped back three paces.

Then he looked around the warm pavilion.

His gaze was like lightning, sweeping across the walls, across the shelves, across every corner where a sword or knife could be hidden.

Then he took down another sword hanging on the wall and put away the paper knife on the shelf.

He gathered all the letter-opening daggers on the desk into his sleeves.

Then Lyu Fang bowed and quietly withdrew.

In the warm pavilion, only Emperor Luo and Luo Zhao were left again.

Silence.

A long silence.

Luo Zhao stood where she was.

She did not move.

She didn't even know how she should react.

Because the one who just forced the palace by threatening to die for love wasn't her at all!

But now, she stood here.

Her royal father looked at her, and she looked at her royal father.

How should she explain?

Could she explain it?

Luo Zhao didn't know, so she could only lower her eyelashes and remain motionless.

Emperor Luo looked at her.

Looking at this daughter with a blood mark still on her neck.

Looking at her standing there with lowered eyes, like a soulless jade statue.

His heart suddenly softened:

"Zhao'er, does it hurt?"

Luo Zhao's eyelashes trembled, and she raised her head to look at Emperor Luo.

In those eyes, at this moment, there was no imperial aloofness, no unfathomable scheming.

Only the heartache a father should have when seeing his daughter injured.