Silver needles, medicine, and the secret art of the Qingying Needle recorded within...
Every item found on the woman made Ye Tinglan's expression grow somber, a sharp pain constricting his chest.
These all belonged to Feng Yinwan.
That woman...
Qi Xuan had never sensed such potent, hatred-laced killing intent from his Prince.
So strong, as if it could destroy everything in the world.
Beneath the outer robe, the woman's face was mutilated, beyond recognition. The exposed skin was cold and stiff, devoid of any warmth.
Yet, his large palm rested upon it, stubbornly refusing to move.
The army physician arrived half an hour later.
For those thirty minutes, the bottom of the cliff was steeped in a profound silence, broken only by the wind. No one dared to speak.
"Your Highness, the army physician has arrived."
The frigid, solemn atmosphere was shattered. The figure in black moved slightly and finally rose from the ground.
"Bring him here."
The guard had explained the urgency of the situation, and the physician had not dared to delay. Upon arrival, he practically ran over.
"Your Highness."
He had not seen the woman's face, and sensing the chilling aura before him, he tightened his grip on his medicine box, not daring to look.
He had expected an emergency, preparing for urgent first aid on his way. Yet, after waiting for half an hour, Ye Tinglan remained silent, causing him to feel uneasy.
Just as suffocation threatened, the cold, thin lips finally parted.
"Take her pulse."
The army physician, as if granted a reprieve, responded and quickly knelt down.
Before he could fully relax, his fingertips brushed against a chilling cold, and his expression froze.
"Your Highness, this... this...!"
The cold was rigid and absolute, uncontainable even through the diagnostic cloth.
The woman on the ground clearly had no pulse!
To take the pulse of a dead person... what did Prince Mo intend?
In an instant, the physician's fingertips recoiled as if pricked by needles.
Ye Tinglan remained with his back to him, but his icy voice reached him word for word.
"I order you to examine the Princess's pulse."
"The... the Princess?!"
The army physician could never have imagined that the female corpse on the ground was Prince Mo's consort.
His eyes fixed on the tips of his shoes, cold sweat instantly breaking out on his back.
He then met Qi Xuan's equally pained gaze.
The terrifying chill before him continued to build. The army physician trembled hesitantly for a moment before steeling himself and speaking.
"Replying to... Your Highness, the Princess... the Princess no longer has a pulse."
The moment these words left his mouth, a powerful surge of killing intent erupted. A deathly silence descended upon the cliff bottom.
Just as Qi Xuan feared the Prince would lose control, Ye Tinglan spoke again.
"Is she with child?"
Everyone present was taken aback by this question.
Qi Xuan, however, quickly understood.
Was His Highness... confirming her identity?
The woman on the ground shared a striking resemblance in height and build with the Princess, wore her clothes, and was seen falling off the cliff by everyone.
If they were in his position, would they still doubt?
Four months pregnant, the fetus was already formed. Even after suffering a heavy impact from the fall, there might still be traces within her abdomen!
The army physician dared not ask further questions and proceeded to investigate as Ye Tinglan instructed.
A moment later, his expression drastically changed.
"Your Highness! The... the Princess is pregnant! But, but..."
Judging by her size, she should have been over four months pregnant.
But now... the fetus was dead!
He, who usually served in the military camp, had never encountered such a situation. Terrified, he prostrated himself on the ground, unable to speak further.
At that moment, the last flicker of light in Ye Tinglan's eyes dimmed, leaving behind only an endless abyss of darkness.
Qi Xuan's heart had already been filled with sorrow upon hearing the news. Witnessing the current scene, he became worried.
"Prince..."
Before he could finish speaking, the sword at his side was drawn first.
Ye Tinglan directly drew it into his hand with a gust of wind!
A cold gleam flashed, and killing intent radiated outwards.
Seeing this, everyone retreated, clearing a path.
At the end of that path lay the black-clad assassins, bound in a circle.
As the icy aura descended, the figure in black was already upon them, his movements swift and spectral.
Even though the black-clad assassins had been trained as death warriors, they involuntarily trembled under the immense pressure.
Sensing his intention, Feng Wuxi immediately spoke.
"This single act alone will not convict Ye Tingyan. Leaving some alive would still be useful."
The response was a powerful sword energy unleashed by Ye Tinglan.
"Dong—"
Before any cry could escape, the head of the foremost black-clad assassin was severed.
Blood erupted, splattering those around them. Yet, it was as if an invisible barrier stopped the spray, halting it precisely before Ye Tinglan.
Dark clouds obscured the moon overhead. The figure in black stood facing them, his long sword dripping with blood, a chilling aura swirling around him.
In that instant, the rumored Prince Mo, severely wounded and with less than half his power recovered, ceased to exist.
Before them stood the ruthless god of war, the one who commanded armies and led troops with ferocity on the battlefield!
The black-clad assassins stared blankly, as if their deepest fears had been awakened, their expressions instantly collapsing.