A Fated Enemy

"Hahaha..." Several thugs, wearing lecherous grins, advanced toward the helpless Yu Wenxin, their intentions clear and vile.

"This girl is too tempting! She's a once-in-a-lifetime beauty. Could she be a fairy sent from the heavens? Brothers, let's enjoy this together," one of them sneered.

"If I could be with a woman like this, I'd gladly give up ten years of my life. Haha..." Their eyes, brimming with lust and greed, fixed on the delicate beauty before them. Shaky hands reached out toward the vision of grace and innocence, a beauty beyond even their wildest dreams.

"Let me go first!" one man demanded.

"Shut up! I'll go first!" Another thug snarled, the tension between them growing, their bloodshot eyes betraying the lust that nearly drove them to fight amongst themselves.

"Ah!" Yu Wenxin gasped in terror. Her mind was overwhelmed with fear and desperation. Her body weakened, swaying as if she might collapse. Even the strength to end her own life had abandoned her.

But then, in an instant, a shadow darted across the dark courtyard, a streak of speed that the thugs were completely unaware of. A faint glint of cold light flashed, followed by the spurt of blood, and the thugs, including the hulking brute among them, froze where they stood.

*Swoosh!* 

The shadow halted briefly in the courtyard, casting a glance at the lifeless body of Yang Fan on the ground, before melting into the night as swiftly as it had appeared, like a phantom.

*Thud! Thud!* 

The sound of bodies hitting the ground soon followed as all four or five men crumpled to the earth, lifeless, their blood staining the stone beneath them.

Yu Wenxin, witnessing the gruesome scene, turned pale, closing her eyes in sheer terror, unwilling to take in the sight any longer.

Just then, familiar footsteps approached her. Someone was coming near.

"Yang, Apothecary!" Yu Wenxin's eyes flew open, and she threw herself into the familiar arms before her, sobbing quietly, her frail frame trembling as if carrying all the weight of her distress.

After a long silence, Yang Fan gently pushed her away, sighing softly.

"Now, do you understand?"

"Xiner understands... Thank you for your guidance, Apothecary," Yu Wenxin said as she wiped away her tears. Her eyes, once clouded with fear and shame, now gleamed with a newfound clarity.

"It's good that you do," Yang Fan responded, his voice calm. "If not for the expert hidden in the shadows, protecting you on behalf of the royal family, your fate today would have been no better than that of the hundredth sparrow."

At his words, Yu Wenxin's expression changed again, the horrific possibilities she had narrowly avoided flashing through her mind. She dared not imagine what could have been. Seeing how fragile she appeared, Yang Fan placed a hand on her shoulder, gently channeling a steady stream of life force into her, rejuvenating her weakened state.

Within moments, color returned to her face, her delicate beauty radiating like a soft, glowing sunset. Her complexion now seemed vibrant, almost ethereal.

"I envy your medical skills, Apothecary," Yu Wenxin murmured, admiration evident in her tone.

"You are not suited to learning medicine," Yang Fan replied, his voice blunt. Yu Wenxin's body contained the mysterious "Nine Residual Veins," but she lacked any real talent for cultivation. To walk the path of immortality, she would have to awaken the latent, enigmatic power within her bloodline.

"Let's return to the palace," Yang Fan said, taking her hand and guiding her back toward the Yan palace. He was already aware of the hidden guards watching over the estate, protecting the Second Princess. Their heightened vigilance suggested they had sensed his presence.

"Hmm," Yu Wenxin nodded, following him obediently.

Under the gentle embrace of the night breeze, they walked back to the palace grounds. To avoid drawing unwanted attention to Yu Wenxin, they entered by scaling the walls once again, for walking through the main gate would only bring negative consequences.

Upon reaching Xinning Residence, Yang Fan let go of Yu Wenxin's hand, his face calm and composed.

"Today's treatment is now complete. Miss Xiner's condition no longer threatens her life. With care, she will recover fully."

"I..." Yu Wenxin hesitated, biting her lip, her delicate features betraying her uncertainty.

"What do you mean, Apothecary?" she asked.

"I mean, Miss Xiner is no longer suffering from any illness. From now on, you may live peacefully in the palace, enjoying the prosperity and luxury that countless mortals would envy," Yang Fan replied without emotion, his tone almost indifferent.

"No... I don't want that!" Yu Wenxin's eyes filled with stubborn resolve, a new strength in her voice. She raised her head, looking toward the palace with a fire in her gaze, the kind of determination rarely seen in women who had faced what she had.

Her strong will wasn't solely due to the mysterious power within her bloodline, on the verge of awakening. It was also a reflection of her own unwavering spirit.

"Your father had asked me before to ensure that you lead an ordinary life," Yang Fan said, his tone still calm, as if indifferent to the matter.

"My father..." Yu Wenxin's voice trembled, the light in her eyes dimming for a moment. She then asked, "Did you agree to that?"

Yang Fan smiled faintly. "Your destiny and freedom are not something others can decide for you. How could I have agreed to such a request?"

A radiant smile bloomed on Yu Wenxin's face. "Then, will you, Apothecary, be the one to free me from my cage?"

Yang Fan nodded solemnly. "Yes. Since you've passed this test, I will keep my promise. Besides, if you are determined, no one can stop you. I will be your guide this one time."

"A guide?" Yu Wenxin asked, a hint of curiosity sparking in her eyes, filled with gratitude. "Apothecary, I thank you once again."

With that, she bowed deeply, her heart swelling with gratitude and respect for the man before her.

Yang Fan did not stop her, smiling lightly. "I can only be your guide, nothing more. You possess the 'Nine Residual Veins,' and the path you will tread in the future is beyond the scope of what someone like me can foresee."

"No matter what happens in the future, I will never forget your kindness, Apothecary," Yu Wenxin promised, her gaze sincere.

"Good. I will be watching with interest," Yang Fan responded, knowing that Yu Wenxin's extraordinary potential could take her to unimaginable heights. And he, at best, could only set her on that path.

At that moment, Yang Fan's expression shifted. He gestured for silence, his gaze sweeping subtly toward a particular direction.

Yu Wenxin froze but quickly understood.

*Whoosh!* 

A faint sound of wind stirred in the night, then vanished without a trace.

"It's fine now," Yang Fan sighed. "To be honest, everything we do is under the watchful eyes of the palace. I simply cannot allow them to know the details of our conversation."

"My father must be worried for my safety," Yu Wenxin murmured with a sigh, her voice tinged with melancholy. "But I do not enjoy living under such scrutiny."

"Let's end things here for tonight. Starting tomorrow, while I continue your treatments, I will also help strengthen your body," Yang Fan said, thoughtfully.

Yu Wenxin, sensing that Yang Fan was preparing to leave, smiled gently and asked, "Since you are my guide, should I call you 'Brother Yang' or 'Senior Yang'?"

Yang Fan chuckled at her playful tone, feeling a newfound closeness between them. "Our ages are not far apart. You may call me Brother Yang."

"Until tomorrow night, then, Brother Yang," Yu Wenxin said, her voice sweet as she waved him goodbye, her radiant beauty seeming to bloom even brighter in the soft light of the evening.

*Whoosh!* 

Yang Fan's steps were light and quick, his form blurring as he moved through the night. Though it seemed as though he were merely walking, his movements were swift and ghost-like.

At this moment, his spirit merged with the life force around him, attuned to every subtle shift in the environment, every stir of the wind, every rustle of grass. Even Yu Wenxin's soft farewell from afar did not escape his keen senses.

In this heightened state, Yang Fan felt as though he were observing the world from above, a complete and all-encompassing view, even more profound than the reach of his spiritual awareness.

Suddenly, he paused.

"Come out," he said coldly.

A white-clad figure leaped from the eaves above—a young man with an unremarkable face but an air of extraordinary talent, a sword strapped to his back.

"Why are you following me, Wushuang?" Yang Fan asked with a trace of irritation. "Have you forgotten our agreement?"

Wushuang's expression twisted with pain, his eyes filled with sorrow. With great difficulty, he whispered, "I... I am heartbroken."

"Heartbroken?" Yang Fan was perplexed, but he could sense that something profound lay behind the young man's words.

"And what does your heartbreak have to do with me?" Yang Fan replied coldly, growing impatient. "I'm no healer of hearts."

"Why..." Wushuang's voice quivered with emotion as he stared at Yang Fan, his hands trembling, his eyes dark and filled with unspoken rage.

"Why did you have to take the person I love the most?"