“Then say it, say it backwards!”

“I…”

“Good for you, Charles Sullivan, you must have gone to a brothel. What, is your family not feeding you enough? Always sneaking out for food!”

……

Walking out of the Chang’an County Office, standing on the street, Emily Thompson let out a long sigh.

Barring any surprises, he should be safe for the next eleven days.

But after eleven days, that might not be the case.

The Chang’an County Magistrate had already given him instructions, hoping that in these days, he could get a few more cases.

It would be best if a few more assassins came; getting hurt was nothing, saving his life was what mattered.

Just as this thought popped into his mind, Mr. Harris’s loud shout suddenly rang in his ears.

“Young master, watch out!”

Emily Thompson looked up, only to see a flash of light in the distance, arriving in an instant.

Mr. Harris was standing a bit farther away. The true energy in his body erupted with a roar, and he completely abandoned his own defense, sending all his energy surging toward Emily Thompson, but it only managed to slow the arrow by half.

A black-feathered arrow shot straight at Emily Thompson’s forehead.

Emily Thompson could already see the pitch-black, metallic gleam of the arrowhead, and he could clearly smell the scent of death.

No need to wait for eleven days.

In the next moment, this arrow would pierce through his skull.

He closed his eyes, not knowing if, when he opened them again, he would find himself back in that tiny office.

A moment later.

The pain he imagined didn’t come; his mind was still functioning normally.

Emily Thompson opened his eyes.

The sharp arrowhead was less than an inch from his forehead.

But that less than an inch was an unbridgeable chasm.

A slender, fair arm appeared in Emily Thompson’s view.

Because it was so close, Emily Thompson could even see the fine hairs on her arm.

That figure who had always silently stood behind Emily Thompson, never speaking, had somehow appeared at his side.

The arrow was tightly gripped in her hand.

Emily Thompson let out a breath, and only one thought filled his heart.

Love you, my wife…

Chapter 7: Reversing the Heavenly Order

Just a moment ago, Emily Thompson had thought that girls in ancient times should just play the zither and do embroidery, not wield swords and fight.

Now he’d changed his mind.

Wielding swords is great—if his wife only knew how to play the zither and embroider, he’d already be a dead man.

“Protect him well.”

The cool-voiced woman tossed out these words, then soared into the air, darting toward a distant tall building.

That arrow just now had been shot from a window in that building.

After the harrowing moment just now, Mr. Harris pulled Emily Thompson back into the county office.

A moment later, the cool-voiced woman walked back in.

Mr. Harris immediately asked, “Young madam, did you catch the assassin?”

The young woman shook her head.

One failed strike, then a swift escape, leaving no trace behind—the other party was likely a professional assassin.

Mr. Harris sighed. The master had offended so many people, there was no way to guess the culprit. All he could say was, “Let’s go back for now.”

Emily Thompson got into the carriage, quietly moving a little closer to his wife.

That arrow just now had left him shaken; being closer to her made him feel safer.

At the same time, he found it hard to believe.

In this world, are officials’ families really in so much danger? This was the capital, right under the emperor’s nose, and in just one day, he’d already survived two assassination attempts. Looks like Daxia’s public security isn’t so great.

No wonder Mr. Harris brought so many people whenever they went out…

Before long, the carriage passed by a shop. Mr. Harris pulled the reins, jumped down, and said, “Young master, young madam, please wait a moment. The master might come home tonight, so this old servant will go buy some pastries he likes…”

He habitually patted his waist, then suddenly froze, exclaiming in surprise, “Where’s my money pouch?”

Hearing this, Emily Thompson reached to his own waist, pulled out a money pouch, and tossed it over, saying, “Use mine.”

Mr. Harris caught the pouch, surprised. “When did my money pouch end up with the young master?”

Emily Thompson didn’t know either—maybe Mr. Harris had left it by the bed, and it got mixed up when he was getting dressed. Mr. Harris didn’t think much of it, walked into the pastry shop, bought a bag of pastries, got back on the carriage, and shook the reins again…

……

The residence of the Minister of Justice.

Emily Thompson’s room.

Emily Thompson sat at the table, looked at Mr. Harris, stretched out his right hand, grasped at the air a couple of times, and asked, “When I jumped off the roof this morning, that move you used was…”

Everything that had happened today had made Emily Thompson deeply aware of how dangerous this world was.

His wife was formidable—so formidable she could catch an arrow with her bare hands—but she couldn’t always be by his side to protect him.

Relying on others was no substitute for relying on himself; his own safety was best kept in his own hands.

Besides, for Emily Thompson, when there was danger, his wife by his side was the safest; when there wasn’t, she was the most dangerous.

Emily Thompson rubbed his chest; that spot still ached faintly.

Whether it was to protect himself from assassins or from his wife, he had to get stronger.