The Princess’ Shadow Guard Cannot Be Too Clever

en halt, and with her sharp eyesight, she spotted something unsightly in the woods in the distance.

She was certain it was a tiger’s mark.

The typically docile horse grew restless and snorted sporadically.

It seemed like they would need to set up camp before the sun set.

Ming Qin soothed the horse and searched for a spot near the road.
She steered the carriage towards a small hill and tied the horse securely.
Carving several wooden stakes, she arranged them around the carriage to ward off any unwanted intruders.
Then, she started a fire and kept a watchful eye on the forest.

“Ah Qin?”

Feeling a tug on her neck, Ming Qin turned around to see Murong Yan lifting the curtain.

“Don’t worry, we’re downwind,” Ming Qin said as she opened the carriage door and lifted Murong Yan, who had been sitting inside the carriage all day with a pale complexion, and placed her on the bench.

She extended her warm palm and gently massaged Murong Yan’s slightly swollen belly, asking with concern, “Is your stomach still hurting?”

She had heard from many senior sisters that menstruation can be very painful.

“I’m fine.”

Feeling the soreness in her waist and the slight pressure applied by Ming Qin on her stomach, Murong Yan smiled to reassure the concerned woman in front of her, then involuntarily coughed a few times.

Ming Qin furrowed her brow and stoked the bonfire to make it burn brighter, hoping to warm up the woman who had cold hands and feet.

The bright and blazing flames could deter wild animals driven by instinct.

But unfortunately, they couldn’t fend off treacherous thieves with evil intentions.

The next morning, Ming Qin made her way alone to the almost frozen surface of the river.

The bank was slippery and treacherous, with even the small stones feeling sharp under her feet.
Despite her hands becoming bright red from the cold, she persisted and soaked them in the icy water.

Knowing that she had left Murong Yan behind to wash the menstrual cloth by the creek, Ming Qin felt the need to hurry back.

As she twisted the wet cloth, she couldn’t shake off the feeling of a chilling sensation creeping up behind her.

At that moment, Ming Qin realized she was not alone.

Was it a human or a beast lurking in the jungle?

Slowly turning around, she found herself face-to-face with a pair of shining eyes deep in the wilderness.

The creature before her was massive, with dense orange fur crisscrossed with black stripes and white teeth that glinted in the dim light.
With each low growl, the creature’s shoulder and cheekbones moved, causing the stripes all over its body to appear blurred.
Its massive footprints left deep impressions in the snowy ground.

As the tiger crept closer to Ming Qin, it moved with the grace of a skilled hunter, emerging from the thick forest.

“Good boy, you shouldn’t have come here,” Ming Qin said calmly, her expression fearless but slightly troubled.

The tiger kept its gaze fixed on her, its long, coarse tail flicking through the underbrush, causing a rustling sound.

“I should really head back soon,” Ming Qin muttered to herself, placing the object in her hand on a flat stone.
“Could it be attracted by the scent of blood?”

The wild beast was about 16 meters away from Ming Qin, its powerful muscles tensed in a crouching position, emitting a low and menacing growl from its throat, like a tightly stretched bowstring, ready to strike.

Without hesitation, Ming Qin drew her long sword from her waist as she watched the scene unfold.
The tiger seemed momentarily dazzled by the reflected light of the blade before it lunged towards her.

Ming Qin deftly dodged the attack of the ferocious beast, causing a splash of water on the riverbank.

The orange figure suddenly turned around, opening its blood-stained mouth full of sharp teeth, ready to bite Ming Qin.
In a split second decision, she leaped onto the tiger’s back, tightly grabbing the fur around its neck, and swung her sword to strike it down.

The frenzied tiger panted heavily and thrashed about, even slamming its back against a nearby tree trunk.
Ming Qin’s grip on the tiger’s fur slipped from her grasp as she was thrown off balance by its sudden burst of energy, causing her long sword to slip from her palm.

“Oh no…”

Ming Qin wasn’t concerned about losing her weapon.
Instead, as she landed, she nearly stepped on something she had placed on a nearby rock.

She twisted her body in mid-air to avoid it, but ended up slipping on the icy mud and falling.

As the woman lay on the ground, the tiger immediately pounced and clawed at Ming Qin’s chest.
Its determination to bite through the fragile human neck was evident in its attack.

With a calm demeanor, Ming Qin reached up and used her left hand to forcefully hold the tiger’s chin, which was covered in thick and spiky whiskers, preventing the beast from delivering a fatal blow.

Despite feeling overwhelmed by the size difference and unfavorable position, Ming Qin remained composed.
The wound on her chest from the tiger’s claw was bleeding profusely, and her right hand was frantically searching for something.

Mixed with the stench of the tiger’s saliva, droplets fell on Ming Qin’s emotionless face.
Just as the ferocious beast was about to deliver the final blow, its body suddenly stiffened, and it collapsed weakly to the ground.

Ming Qin firmly grasped a sharp dagger in her right hand and plunged it deep into the tiger’s fur.

Her wrist twisted mercilessly, and with a decisive strike, she sliced through the diameter of the tiger’s neck.

The upper half of the tiger’s body separated from its neck, and blood splattered on Ming Qin’s body, creating a large patch of red that made it impossible to determine whose blood it was.

The snowy ground was now marked with conspicuous traces, but Ming Qin only wiped her face lightly, showing no emotion.

The dead tiger lay on the riverbank as Ming Qin pushed its body off herself and stood up.
She grabbed a handful of clean snow to try and remove the bloodstains from her body, attempting to make herself look less intimidating.

As she squatted by the river to wash her bloodied hands, the sound of rustling branches and twigs caught her attention.
Turning her head, she noticed a soft and fluffy bundle rolling out from the grass.

“Oh, it’s because there’s a cub.”

Realizing there was a cub, Ming Qin gently approached and saw a small tiger with a head still smaller than her palm.
It was likely not yet weaned and emitted a whimpering, high-pitched sound as it stumbled towards its mother’s corpse lying on the ground.

The attack on Ming Qin was likely due to her unintentionally provoking the strong maternal instincts of the beast.

“Even if I know you have a cub, I still have to kill you if we cross paths,” Ming Qin thought, thinking about the other villagers who had been attacked.

But as she looked at the small cub huddled next to its mother, she suddenly felt a pang of remorse for her hasty decision to strike.

After gathering her things, she prepared to leave.
But as she glanced back at the now-cold body and the cowering ball of fur beside it, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of hesitation in the midst of the lonely forest.

“Never mind,” she sighed, as if giving up.
“Just be a good warm cushion for the princess.”

She then grabbed the small tiger, who was waving its claws fiercely, by the scruff of its neck.

“Stay still!”

Observing the restless little creature in her hand, Ming Qin lifted it to her eyes and spoke to the tiger’s round grey pupils in a composed tone, as if instructing a junior shadow guard, “When you meet the princess, you must behave yourself.
Do you understand?”

Whether it was the natural fear of a wild animal towards a strong individual or the unconscious killing intent emitted by Ming Qin after the combat, the struggling tiger indeed quieted down and fixed its gaze on the woman, lowering its furry head.

“Excellent.”

Pleased with the obedient behavior of the cub, Ming Qin nodded and then placed it in her arms, heading towards the carriage with firm strides.

Slightly in the distance, the clamor of unfamiliar voices and the grating, harsh shout of a man pierced through the air where the carriage had been parked.
Ming Qin’s exceptional hearing picked up on the noise and her heart sank, her face turning the color of iron.

With urgency, she hastened her pace, her lithe form leaving no visible footprints on the snow