Volume One, Chapter Ten: The Roar of Tigers and Leopards

The vow sworn on the wedding night was like a stone cast into still water; it did not stir up a storm, but it sent invisible ripples across the tranquil pond of the Eastern Palace.

At dawn the next day, faint morning light filtered through the window lattice, casting pale beams upon the cold floor.

Li Xuan had long since awakened. Sitting cross-legged on the soft couch with eyes closed and steady breathing, he had not slept through the night, yet felt no drowsiness. The habits of a master of martial arts from his past life were deeply ingrained in his bones. To him, high-quality breath regulation far surpassed ordinary sleep.

He could clearly sense how poor the foundation of this body was—depleted by indulgence in wine and women, blocked meridians, and a constitution that rejected nourishment. The slight intoxication from the previous night had transformed into a heavy fatigue that weighed down every limb and bone.

“I must restore my strength as soon as possible,” Li Xuan silently resolved. In this ruthless imperial palace, lacking power was tantamount to willingly offering one’s neck to the executioner’s blade.

He rose quietly and pushed open the door without a sound. Outside in the courtyard, morning dew dampened the bluestone tiles, and the air was crisp. A white figure was practicing swordplay in the open space.

It was Xiao Ningshuang.

She had shed the cumbersome embroidered cape and now wore a sleek white combat suit, her long hair tied high, exuding an aura of heroic grace. In her hand, a slender green-edged sword flickered like a dragon in flight, the swordlight flashing with sharp, slicing sounds.

Her swordsmanship was of military origin—broad and forceful, fierce and resolute—each movement steeped in the ruthless spirit honed on the battlefield. For a woman, such skill was indeed rare.

Li Xuan stood silently beneath the corridor, arms crossed, watching without interrupting.

From the perspective of a martial arts master, Xiao Ningshuang’s sword technique was fundamentally solid but overly focused on formality. The flow of internal energy was sluggish; she did not understand how to perfectly fuse energy with strength, intent with form. The sword was fine, the wielder beautiful, but the technique itself lacked spirit, burdened by a craftsman’s rigidity.

“What a pity,” he thought. With proper guidance, her achievements could surpass these limits.

Having finished a routine, Xiao Ningshuang sheathed her sword and stood still, a fine sheen of fragrant sweat on her brow, and a healthy flush on her pale cheeks. She had long noticed Li Xuan’s presence but had chosen to ignore it. Now, seeing him gaze unwaveringly, her delicate brows furrowed, and she asked coldly, “Your Highness, what do you wish to instruct?”

“Not at all,” Li Xuan smiled and stepped forward. “Your Highness the Crown Princess’s swordsmanship is exquisite, yet... the killing intent is too heavy, lacking fluidity and natural ease. Persisting thus harms the mind and hinders progress in martial cultivation.”

His words were polite yet incisive, pinpointing the bottleneck Xiao Ningshuang had failed to break through despite years of training.

Her heart jolted, a flicker of surprise flashing in her beautiful eyes. Her father, General Xiao Yuan, had once told her something similar, but never as succinct and direct as this. Could this playboy prince truly understand martial arts?

She quickly masked her surprise with a cold expression and sneered, “Your Highness speaks so confidently. Are you saying your martial prowess surpasses mine, who has practiced for years?”

“Not surpass exactly, just a little know-how,” Li Xuan replied nonchalantly, walking toward a neglected rockery in the corner of the courtyard.

He was about to perform something far more important.

This was a forgotten corner in the original owner’s memory. Li Xuan took a deep breath, sinking his energy into his dantian, then suddenly opened his mouth without making a sound. Instead, he manipulated his chest, abdomen, and every muscle and bone to produce a peculiar resonance.

A low, rumbling hum sounded from deep within him, like the roar of tigers and leopards or thunder from the netherworld. The sound was not loud but penetrated the air with a subtle vibration.

The Tiger-Leopard Thunder Sound!

This was the supreme secret method in his former life’s martial arts, used to temper sinews and bones and stimulate circulation. Through sonic vibrations, it transformed the body from inside out, cleansing muscles and marrow. For this broken body, it was precisely the remedy needed.

Xiao Ningshuang’s pupils constricted sharply.

She heard the sound—not through her ears, but exploding directly within her mind, stirring her blood and qi so intensely that her sword hand tingled.

She looked at Li Xuan in shock. His shoulders rose and fell, his spine like a dragon’s, his joints cracking and popping. Though still slender, he gave off an aura of immovable strength, like a towering mountain.

What kind of sinister technique was this?

Xiao Ningshuang had never encountered such a bizarre cultivation method.

After nine consecutive rumbles, Li Xuan slowly ceased. He was drenched in sweat, as if pulled from water, limbs weak and barely able to stand. Yet beneath this exhaustion, a faint new warmth flowed slowly through his parched meridians.

It was effective!

Li Xuan’s heart leapt with joy.

He steadied himself, preparing to return and regulate his breath, but turning around, he met Xiao Ningshuang’s gaze, filled with disbelief and suspicion. Knowing his display had been shocking, he offered no explanation, only a grin revealing white teeth: “Princess, it seems my martial prowess is indeed a little higher than yours.”

With that, he ignored her stunned silence and returned to his room.

Xiao Ningshuang stood there for a long while, the strange thunderous sound and his teasing words echoing in her mind. Her confusion surged stronger than her resentment.

Who exactly was this man?

Back inside his chamber, Li Xuan immediately summoned Wang Fugui.

“Wang Fugui, bring me some medicinal herbs,” he ordered, handing over a pre-written prescription.

Wang Fugui took it and gasped. The list included century-old wild ginseng, snow-capped ganoderma, millennia-old he shou wu, red blood vine, dragon bone herb... a series of rare and precious medicines—either unheard-of treasures or priceless elixirs.

“Y-Your Highness, you’re...” Wang Fugui stammered, “Are you planning to concoct pills? These herbs—just obtaining one or two would drain the entire Eastern Palace treasury! Moreover, some are extremely potent; most people would suffer harm or even hemorrhage to death if used carelessly!”

“Do as I say, no more questions,” Li Xuan reclined with eyes closed. “Money is no concern. Tell General Xiao it’s from me—that his daughter’s future happiness depends on these herbs. He’ll understand.”

If you’re going to extort, do it with a righteous air. Since the Xiao family wished to bind themselves to him, they must show sincerity. These herbs were the best gesture of good faith.

After a long pause, Wang Fugui regarded the prince’s unyielding expression and finally gritted his teeth: “Your servant obeys!”

Wang Fugui’s efficiency was remarkable. By midday, General Xiao Yuan personally sent a cart laden with rare herbs in silk boxes, quietly delivered into the Eastern Palace. Along came a message from Xiao Yuan: “Please take good care of Your Highness’s recovery. As for Ningshuang... I entrust her to you.”

Li Xuan nodded in satisfaction. Xiao Yuan was a clever man who understood investment.

That night, in a secluded bathhouse of the Eastern Palace, steam thickened the air.

A massive wooden tub brimmed with jet-black medicinal broth, emitting a rich and peculiar fragrance. Li Xuan stripped off his clothes and took a deep breath before immersing himself into the scalding liquid.

“Ah—”

A fierce sting instantly coursed through his entire body, as if millions of steel needles pricked his skin, muscles, and marrow simultaneously. The medicine’s power was overwhelming, violently flushing his congested meridians and frail internal organs.

Clenching his teeth, Li Xuan silently activated the Tiger-Leopard Thunder Sound, guiding the wild medicinal force to temper his body.

Pain was but the prelude to transformation.

Outside the bathhouse, Xiao Ningshuang stood in the moonlit corridor, her expression complex.

She heard the muffled groans of suppressed agony from within. The sound inexplicably quickened her heartbeat. She did not know what Li Xuan was doing, but she felt it was excruciating torment.

After a moment’s hesitation, she turned back to her room, then soon returned carrying a white jade porcelain bottle. She placed it gently on the bathhouse threshold and left without a word.

The bottle contained the Xiao family’s secret wound-healing ointment, known for calming the mind and relieving pain.

She told herself this was merely to uphold their pact. After all, if Li Xuan were to exhaust himself to death, it would bring no benefit to the Xiao family.

Yet, without her noticing, within her cold eyes, the iceberg called “hatred” had already begun to melt ever so slightly in an imperceptible corner.