Renaissance of goddess of war✨️

Chapter 4: The Healing Storm

As the chaos of the festival faded, Zhao Yang held Ancheng tightly against his chest, urgency driving him as they rushed toward the palace. The Festival of Unity had turned into a night of terror, and the weight of Ancheng's injury pressed heavily on his heart.

“Ancheng, stay with me,” he pleaded, his voice strained. “Help is on the way.”

Anning followed closely behind, her mind racing with the knowledge she possessed. The whispers of a soul-crushing poison echoed in her ears, a poison so deadly that only she could concoct the antidote. The royal guards surrounded them, their expressions grim, but Zhao Yang’s focus remained solely on Ancheng.

Once inside the palace, Anning wasted no time. “I know the poison,” she declared, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of fear within her. “But I need the right ingredients. Quickly!”

Zhao Yang’s heart sank as he watched Anning move with purpose. He felt helpless, his heart aching for Ancheng, the brave young general who had shielded him from danger. With General Li away at the borders, the burden of leadership fell heavily upon his shoulders, but he couldn’t let despair cloud his mind.

“Anning, what do you need?” he asked, determination flaring in his chest.

“I need the essence of the nightshade flower and a few rare herbs,” Anning replied, her brow furrowed in concentration. “They should be in the apothecary. I’ll work as fast as I can.”

Zhao Yang nodded and turned to the guards. “Gather the necessary items immediately! We must save her.”

With the guards sprinting to retrieve the supplies, Zhao Yang returned his attention to Ancheng. She lay pale and still, her strength waning. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his heart swelling with a mix of admiration and fear.

“You’re not alone, Ancheng,” he whispered, voice breaking. “You’ve always protected me. Now it’s my turn to protect you.”

Her eyelids fluttered, and a weak smile graced her lips. “Zhao Yang… I…” She struggled to speak, the poison battling against her will.

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “You’ve always known. We’ve been through so much together since we were children.”

The crown prince recalled the countless training sessions, the moments of laughter and support, and the deep bond that had developed between them. From the age of eight, they had trained under the same master, learning the art of combat and honing their skills. Their connection had always been special, transcending mere friendship.

As Zhao Yang held her, the sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor, and Anning returned with the herbs and ingredients. With deft hands, she began preparing the antidote. Zhao Yang watched her work, admiration filling him. Anning’s expertise in poisons was unmatched; she was one of the greatest poison experts in the kingdom, and he trusted her implicitly.

“Stay focused, Anning,” he encouraged, sensing her own fears. “You can do this.”

As Anning mixed the ingredients, her hands steady despite the tension in the air, the antidote began to take shape. “I just need a few more moments,” she said, urgency in her voice.

Finally, with a flourish, Anning completed the mixture and rushed to Ancheng’s side. “Ancheng, you need to drink this,” she urged, holding the vial carefully.

Ancheng's eyes fluttered open, and she managed a weak nod. “I trust you, Anning,” she whispered, her voice faint.

Zhao Yang lifted her gently, cradling her as Anning administered the antidote. As the potion flowed into her, Ancheng’s body trembled, and she gasped, pain coursing through her. But gradually, the storm within her began to settle, the poison’s grip loosening.