Meanwhile, the carriages grew faster and faster, and from a distance it truly did seem they might reach the capital before nightfall. Elsewhere, Jun Beiyue was also drawing close to the capital himself.

Shiliang lay unconscious in the carriage while Jun Beiyue drove it himself—undeniably, this had slowed their pace considerably.

Yet even so, Jun Beiyue brought the carriage to a stop atop a hillside, standing there for a long while, until a messenger falcon arrived bearing a letter!

This was an urgent dispatch sent by Lord Bomiluo!

Jun Beiyue opened it and read, his stern face growing colder and colder still, giving nothing away about the letter’s contents.

Just then, Shiliang stirred awake and moved to climb down from the carriage. Jun Beiyue hurried over, brow furrowed. “Don’t get down. Your body’s still weak.”

Warmth flooded Shiliang’s heart, even as she understood clearly that his lord’s kindness stemmed entirely from needing her body to cultivate a poison-immune constitution—and yet, she still couldn’t help her heart racing.

“Your Highness, where are we? We should hurry back, shouldn’t we?” Shiliang asked anxiously.

“About an hour’s journey left. If we hurry, we should make it back before nightfall,” Jun Beiyue said seriously, gazing toward the direction of the capital.

“Your Highness… my lady… my lady must miss you, mustn’t she.” Shiliang asked timidly, a little shy.

Jun Beiyue merely glanced at her once, saying nothing more.

“Your Highness, shall we get going?” Shiliang asked again.

After a long silence, Jun Beiyue finally spoke. “Shiliang, this matter of cultivating the poison—perhaps it’s time to tell your mistress.”

“No, don’t!” Shiliang immediately grew anxious. “My lady would absolutely never allow it if she knew! Your Highness, my lady dotes on me, often says I remind her of herself, that we’re both children born to a bitter fate. My lady even said that as long as I stay by her side, she’ll never let me suffer! If she found out about the poison cultivation, she’d surely be devastated!”

Her constitution was uniquely suited to being cultivated into the same poison-immune body as the Princess Consort. Ever since the Princess Consort had been cured, the poison master and his assistant had begun planting poison in her as well, and now, having obtained poison-cultivation medicine from the Poison Den, nothing stood in the way anymore!

Once she finished taking the poison-cultivation pills, she too would become just like her mistress—immune to all poisons!

And everything His Highness was doing, all of it, was solely to find a cure for the Charm Fragrance!

When His Highness discovered that finding the secret of the Isolated Isle and the cure for the Charm Fragrance wasn’t something that could be resolved in ten days or half a month, he’d begun searching for other means to cure it!

Cultivating an identical constitution to use for experimentation was the perfect solution!

How could Prince Yao ever bear to put his own consort’s body through such an ordeal? He wouldn’t even let her plant poison in herself at all!

Was the difference between people truly so vast?

She and the Princess Consort truly weren’t alike at all, were they?

At that thought, a flicker of sorrow crossed Shiliang’s eyes. She told herself she would find her own worth in this.

“I don’t like deceiving her,” Jun Beiyue said flatly.

“Your Highness, if it’s deceived her for a lifetime, then it isn’t really deception at all! Your Highness, this life of mine was given to me by the Princess Consort. I’ve always wanted to repay her for that kindness—please, Your Highness, let me do this!” Shiliang said, hurriedly kneeling right there in the carriage.

Jun Beiyue took a deep breath, thoroughly at a loss.

Meeting Jun Beiyue’s sympathetic gaze, Shiliang’s initially timid heart gradually relaxed. In front of such a shrewd man, how could she not tread carefully?

Only matters concerning Han Ziqing could ever disturb his otherwise unshakable composure, and what she needed to do was make him pity her precisely because of how much he pitied Ziqing.

“If she knew you were being treated this way, she’d surely feel even worse for you,” Jun Beiyue said, his own heart aching further, as if he were feeling sorry for this girl on Ziqing’s behalf.

“Your Highness, if my lady never knows for the rest of her life, then she’ll never have to feel bad. This servant asks only to serve you both faithfully for one final month,” Shiliang said seriously.

According to Prince Yao’s plan, in just one month’s time, she would be sent to a secret location to undergo various experiments—either a cure would be discovered, or she would die.

She had only one month left.

Jun Beiyue looked at Shiliang and nodded, saying flatly, “Your eyes… they really do look like hers.”

Shiliang froze slightly, about to speak, when she suddenly recalled the words the Empress of Eastern Qin had said to her, and retreating back into the carriage, her face flushed red at once.

The Empress of Eastern Qin had told her she had what it took to replace Han Ziqing as Prince Yao’s consort!

She could rise just as high as Han Ziqing had, become a phoenix perched atop the highest branch—as long as she obediently played along for this one month.

But she didn’t want that at all. Back when Xuanyuan Lige had threatened her with the lives of her hundreds of beggar friends at the temple, demanding not just her mistress’s whereabouts but also plotting this entire trap in Nanzhao—and now, having fallen into the Empress of Eastern Qin’s hands, she faced not just threats, but temptation as well!

One month… how much could change in one month? It was entirely up to her.

Shiliang lowered her head, and it took her a long, long while to recover herself. She carefully lifted the carriage curtain, glanced once at the darkening sky outside, then closed her eyes.

Her brows knitted tight, her jaw clenched, some unknown struggle raging within her!

Then, suddenly! She popped a pill into her mouth and swallowed it—and abruptly lurched forward, hurling herself violently out of the moving carriage!

Jun Beiyue, seated outside, called out “Whoa—” bringing the horse to a halt. Seeing Shiliang collapsed unconscious beside him, he cried out in alarm, “What’s wrong with you?”

Shiliang weakly opened her eyes, glanced once at Jun Beiyue, then immediately turned away and began retching.

Jun Beiyue instinctively moved to pull back, a flash of impatience crossing his eyes, but he still patted her back gently, asking flatly, “What is it? Are you carriage-sick?”

Shiliang kept retching, nearly to the point of vomiting blood, unable to answer at all.

After a good while, she finally recovered somewhat, collapsing weakly to the side, gazing at Jun Beiyue through tear-blurred eyes.

Looking into those eyes, Jun Beiyue suddenly felt a strange sense of disorientation, before mocking himself inwardly—he’d never once seen that girl Han Ziqing cry.

He’d never even seen her shed a single tear. He remembered she’d once told him that unless he died, she would never cry.

“Are you all right?” Jun Beiyue asked flatly.

“Your Highness, I… I’ve caused you trouble.” Shiliang’s pitiable, delicate expression was genuinely endearing.

“Carriage sickness, or… does something else feel wrong?” Jun Beiyue asked again, glancing at the sky, clearly pressed for time.

“Carriage sickness—the mountain roads are too bumpy. Your Highness, why don’t you go on ahead? I’ll catch up later, I’ll be fine!” Shiliang urged. “My lady hasn’t seen you in so many days, she must be anxious.”

“Nanzhao isn’t a place one can simply wander into casually. There’s no rush—as long as we’re back before the Prince of Nanzhao’s wedding, it’s fine. Rest up, and we’ll set off again once you’re ready,” Jun Beiyue said flatly, leaning back to close his eyes for a brief rest.

Shiliang let out a quiet breath of relief, wiping the corner of her mouth, glancing timidly at Jun Beiyue a few more times before retreating back into the carriage.