Mustn’t Die Before Giving the County Princess a Gift

Ming Qin’s hair was matted with sweat and dust, clinging to her face in damp strands. Her clothes were torn and stained with skid marks, and her outer robe was nowhere to be found. The scars of battle were evident on her body, including several stab wounds, one of which had pierced her left breast. The intensity of the fight was clear.

Thankfully, the battle had lasted for several days, affording Ming Qin’s senior brother ample time to depart on a ship to the capital.

Inhaling deeply, Ming Qin spun around to confront the dozen sturdy pursuers. Despite realizing that they had mistaken her for their intended target, they showed no signs of relenting in their pursuit of the companion whom she had gravely wounded.

“Are all warriors from the east such persistent trackers?” Ming Qin quipped, her voice laced with fatigue and a hint of sarcasm.

Ming Qin absentmindedly scratched her head and was met with the feeling of blood on her hand. She nonchalantly dropped the sword she had been clutching and instead retrieved a long blade from beneath a nearby corpse. She weighed the weapon in her hand and asked, “May I borrow this for a moment?”

Her tone was polite, devoid of any mockery.

However, her request only served to anger the remaining men, causing several of them to lunge forward with the intention of taking her down in a single strike.

Ming Qin steadied her stance and remained undistracted, focused on the fierce battle unfolding amidst the clamor of banging and sword fighting.

As the last of her opponents fell, Ming Qin limped over to a nearby tree and slumped against it, taking in deep breaths.

It was clear to her that taking on so many foes had been a bit too much.

Here’s a possible rephrased version:

Ming Qin’s clothes were drenched in blood, and her eyelids felt heavy, making her a little drowsy.

In her daze, she recalled Lin Yan telling her about a passage she had once read in a temple. It described bird men in white feather weavings with golden rings on their heads and fleshy wings on their backs who would carry people up into the sky after they died. At that moment, Ming Qin wished for nothing more than to die and have the chance to see these creatures.

As a shadow guard, Ming Qin was raised to be detached and have little attachment to the world beyond her duties of eating, drinking, and obediently completing tasks.

That’s right, the mission.

What is it?

To defeat her pursuers and protect the coded letter.

Now that she had accomplished her task and the pursuers were no more, Ming Qin realized she had to destroy the letter before she took her final breath.

It was a surreal moment for her as she never imagined that the last thing she would consume before her death would be a mere piece of paper.

Ming Qin reached for the cloth bag at her waist and pulled out an envelope sealed with black wax that looked inedible.

As she grumbled to herself, a small oiled paper packet tumbled out and landed on her lap. Suddenly, Ming Qin remembered it was a gift she was supposed to present to the County Princess.

The memory of how she had come to possess the tea packet surfaced in her mind. While waiting for Cao Yun in Min, she had wandered into a teahouse where the matron had taken one look at Ming Qin – a stranger speaking a foreign language – and pressed a packet of tea leaves into her hand, claiming it was the best natural tea in the world.

Ming Qin had been so stunned that she ended up buying a small packet of tea that had cost her three months’ salary.

As Ming Qin thought of Murong Yan’s graceful tea-drinking posture, the physical pain she felt seemed to fade away.

The thought jolted her mind and made it clearer.

Ming Qin had made a promise to bring a gift to Murong Yan, and the thought of disappointing her if she didn’t return was unbearable.

Ming Qin also couldn’t forget the image of Murong Yan imprisoned in a tower throughout the seasons.

Determined to keep her promise, Ming Qin forced herself to pull it together and return with the gift.

Ming Qin leaned on her long sword and ripped a piece of clean cloth from a corpse. She stuffed the cloth into her bleeding wound and secured it with a tight leather strap.

As she staggered towards the warriors’ tethered mounts, she selected the strongest one and released the others, saying “You are free.”

After struggling to climb onto the chosen horse, she patted it and whispered, “Good boy, I need your help.”

Ming Qin was brought back to the shadow guard camp in a semi-conscious state, and was carried in by others.

According to the people at the stronghold outside the city, she had arrived six days earlier, having tied herself tightly to the horse with a rope around her waist to prevent herself from falling. She held on until she delivered the coded letter and then fainted, which almost frightened the informant she had met half to death.

Despite some minor flesh wounds, she had a total of seventeen injuries to her flesh and muscles, three of which were fatal.

When her master saw the messenger pigeon and brought the imperial doctor to see Ming Qin’s terrible condition in the middle of the night, the two old men were so angry that they were blowing their beards and glaring.

Despite her confusion, Ming Qin’s grip on the torn cloth bag remained tight.

It required the efforts of four or five people to finally extract the coded letter from the bag.

The positive outcome was that Ming Qin’s life had been preserved.

Song Shu Qing conveyed the news to Cao Yun, who was recovering from his injuries in bed. A complex expression appeared on his face as he said, “It’s all my fault.”

He held himself accountable, “I should have stayed behind.”

“Stay and you’ll be dead,” Song Shu Qing said, leaning against the door frame and rolling her eyes. “You should be thanking Qin Qin instead of saying all this pretentious nonsense to me.”

Song Shu Qing looked at Cao Yun’s grieving face and continued, “Do you know what you should be doing right now? You should be thanking your lucky stars that the person who saved you was Qin Qin. If it had been someone else, you’d all be dead.” She gestured with her hand as if to slash her neck.

Cao Yun looked at Song Shu Qing and suddenly sat up straight. “Have you read the coded letter?” he asked.

Song Shu Qing nodded, the joking expression gone from her eyes.

Cao Yun’s voice quivered with disbelief as he asked, “Did His Highness the Crown Prince really kill the Eighth Prince who was secretly kept in Qiongzhou?” Song Shu Qing nodded solemnly, and Cao Yun let out a heavy sigh, “I fear for the safety of those who are left in the capital.”

Song Shu Qing’s tone was laced with disdain as she spoke, “We already know the depths of the Crown Prince’s depravity. He has killed his own father and even cut off the limbs of his own brother. Nothing he does would surprise me.” She showed no respect for the royal family.

Silence fell between the two of them, heavy with the weight of the situation.

Sensing the need to break the somber mood, Song Shu Qing spoke, “Take care and get well soon.” With a graceful turn, she added, “I’m tired of being alone when Da Linzi is out of the city. I’ll be complaining about this!”

Song Shu Qing emerged from Cao Yun’s room and heard rapid footsteps approaching from a distance. An adolescent in training clothes sprinted toward her, calling out, “Senior Sister Song! Senior Sister Song!”

Song Shu Qing put a hand to her ear and complained, “Why so loud? Are you calling spirits?”

The adolescent looked anxious and said, “Senior Sister Ming Qin has woken up and she’s trying to get out of bed. Senior Sister Song, please go and persuade her to rest.” Without hesitation, Song Shu Qing scowled and hastened to the medical hall.

As she entered, she saw Ming Qin, wrapped in bandages from head to toe, struggling to leave the room. The bearded old doctors present could only stand nervously by her side.

“Qin Qin!” Song Shu Qing exclaimed, “You should be resting now.”

“Senior Sister!” Ming Qin called out hoarsely, “I have to go out.”

Song Shu Qing approached and raised a finger towards Ming Qin’s forehead, pressing down to prevent her from standing up and causing her to fall back onto the bed. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere,” she scolded. “You can’t even use the toilet without help. Where do you think you’re going?” She assisted Ming Qin in reclining on the bed, half-embracing her for support.

“But…” Ming Qin complained, gesturing with her wrapped hands.

“No buts.” Song Shu Qing covered her up and glared at her. “You can’t even beat me in your current condition. Do you want me to use force on you like I did when you were a child?”

Ming Qin recoiled, the memories of her childhood preventing her from responding. “Then… my bag…” she trailed off.

“You’re referring to this?” Song Shu Qing fished out a worn-out cloth bag from her sleeve and handed it over to Ming Qin.

Ming Qin eagerly delved into the bag, her furrowed brow relaxing as she pulled out its contents. “This is it! Thank you, Senior Sister.” The young shadow guard’s face lit up with a smile, but her wounded cheek reminded her of her misery.

Seeing Ming Qin in such a pitiful state was a rare sight. Song Shu Qing sympathetically held her forehead and found the situation both pitiful and amusing. She leaned down and tucked her sister in, saying in a tender voice, “Get well soon.”

Without you guys to share the work, I’m so busy that I don’t even have time to go to the Flower Street to listen to a song.

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