Yana Zhan has parents, a family to protect her. She never needed to struggle or fight as hard as Serena did, never had to learn survival skills.
Serena’s independence and strength are built on having no one to rely on—she can count only on herself. Yana, by contrast, has her whole family as her shield.
When bullied, Serena could only fight back herself. Yana didn’t have to—her family would stand up for her without her even needing to say a word.
As a father, Master Wenyuan admires Serena, but would never want his own daughter to be forced into that kind of strength. Behind Serena’s resilience is a woman’s blood and tears.
"Father, I..." Yana’s eyes reddened, unsure whether it was for herself or Serena. She just felt a tightness in her chest, and tears threatened to spill out uncontrollably.
She envied Serena for winning William’s love, but never considered that the qualities which drew William to Serena came at a painful price.
Serena’s strength and independence—her ability to ride alone for a thousand miles to save William—weren’t innate. Life had slowly worn away her softness and helplessness.
Only by becoming this way could Serena, an orphaned girl, support the Feng family and survive without a man’s protection.
Princess Vivian of Southlyn also quietly watched Serena, lowering her gaze to hide her own thoughts.
They only saw Serena’s confidence and independence, never realizing how much blood and tears lay behind it. Serena earned her present life with her own struggle.
But they never needed to be independent like Serena. Born noble and privileged, they would never have to do rough work like pitching tents in their whole lives...
Serena is not someone to envy. If given a choice, no one would want to be like her—it’s too exhausting, too painful. But Serena had no choice; with no parents or brothers to rely on, if she didn’t want to be a man’s plaything, she had to support her family alone.
The Si Clan’s Eighteen Riders said nothing, but their heads—held high before—now lowered in shame at Master Wenyuan and Yana’s conversation. All eighteen glanced at Serena, then at each other, seeing guilt in one another’s eyes.
Had they gone too far? Serena might be a woman, but she’s not weak. From her conduct along the way, it’s clear she’s someone worthy of respect. She never used her gender to make unreasonable demands or played the victim for their sympathy.
But... The Si Clan’s Eighteen Riders exchanged bitter smiles. They’d just refused to help Serena, and now they truly couldn’t swallow their pride...
Master Wenyuan watched the scene with a faint smile and nodded slightly. With Serena’s ability, it’s only a matter of time before the Eighteen Riders accept her. He merely pointed out the truth, letting them realize early on that Serena is no ordinary woman—in some ways, she’s even stronger than most men.
Prince Nolan is certain that, in danger, the Eighteen Riders would sacrifice themselves to protect Serena. But that doesn’t mean he fully trusts them, or would leave Serena in their care without oversight.
Prince Nolan’s trust isn’t given lightly. Besides the Eighteen Riders secretly protecting Serena, there are others watching in the shadows—and passing news of Serena back to him.
When Prince Nolan learned the Eighteen Riders kept their promise to protect Serena’s life but refused to help her otherwise, he didn’t get angry or send a warning. He just replied coldly, “Got it.”
The secret guards swallowed nervously, silently mourning for the Eighteen Riders. After so many years with Prince Nolan, they knew: if he’d exploded in the moment, the riders would get off with a light punishment. Once he’s quiet, it means trouble.
But if Prince Nolan says nothing, it means he’s truly furious. He’s not punishing them now because he still needs their strength. Once they’re safely back in Eastlyn, he’ll settle accounts with Colin Si—and the Si Clan’s Eighteen Riders will suffer, even if they survive.
Poor Si Clan’s Eighteen Riders—let’s hope the heavens protect Young Marshal Colin Si, and that he doesn’t make any requests of Prince Nolan, or their fate will be even worse.
Learning of Serena’s hardships on the road, Prince Nolan’s mood soured. For days, his face was cold, the air around him freezing. His personal guards shivered and silently prayed for an ambush—anything to distract him from venting his anger on them.
As luck would have it, their prayers were answered—though not in the way they’d hoped.
That day, at noon, the sun suddenly vanished. The sky, bright moments before, was swallowed by gathering storm clouds. Rain threatened, and travelers hurried home, unwilling to linger outside.
The sky was oppressively dark, heavy clouds hanging so low they seemed ready to fall. The atmosphere was stifling—this was no weather for traveling. Advisors suggested Prince Nolan stop for half a day and wait out the storm.
After all, this weather was perfect for an ambush. The low pressure could mask murderous intent, the sound of rain would hide footsteps, and the downpour would wash away all traces—making escape impossible if danger struck.
Prince Nolan pondered for a moment, then refused the advice. He insisted everyone change into rain gear and press on.
Such weather suits ambush—and counterattack. The enemy hides in darkness; they move in the open. If he doesn’t risk a little, how can he lure the enemy into action?
In some ways, Prince Nolan is a lot like Serena—unafraid even when danger is clear. If hurting himself a little means defeating the enemy, he’ll do it without hesitation.
The weather worsened. Though it was midday, the sky was so dark that visibility dropped to less than three meters—like night had suddenly fallen.
The wind howled, trees on either side rustled, and brittle branches occasionally snapped, landing with a sharp crack—like ghosts appearing out of nowhere, chilling to the bone.
On the official road, aside from Prince Nolan’s party, not a soul could be seen for half a day. His personal guards all wore black, rain-proof cloaks.
In this bleak weather, the group marched silently along the empty road, looking like ghostly emissaries crossing the underworld—the sight alone was enough to make anyone shudder in fear.
Yet none of them seemed to notice. Each gripped the sword at their waist, radiating murderous intent, adding even more gloom to the already oppressive weather.
Hidden figures watched as Prince Nolan’s party drew closer, growing tense. The leader—a woman in red—stared unblinking at them. When Nolan’s group was just three feet from the trap, she whispered, “Ready!”
Clip-clop, clip-clop... Prince Nolan’s group kept advancing. As the lead horse was about to step into the trap, the woman in red gave the order: “Pull the rope!”
Boom—suddenly the ground gave way. The horse stumbled forward, falling into a pit lined with cold, sharp swords. Anyone who fell would be pierced through the heart—there was no chance of survival.