Yu Lingxi fell ill, frightened sick by Ning Yin.

One couldn’t blame her for being delicate. Anyone who woke up in the morning to see two female assassins’ corpses hanging beneath crystal lamps in the hall would have their souls scared away.

Under the lamps, Ning Yin in his purple robe, incomparably handsome, had given the scene an exquisitely refined name: “Beauty Lamps.” He had invited Yu Lingxi with great interest to appreciate them together.

Yu Lingxi couldn’t catch her breath and fell ill immediately upon returning to her chambers.

She burned with fever all night and finally managed to return from the gates of hell.

But living beside Ning Yin was far more terrifying than the gates of hell.

Before her, many had sent beauties of all types to Ning Yin’s side—whether to curry favor or to assassinate him—but without exception, none had lived to see the sunrise of the second day.

Only Yu Lingxi was an exception.

Perhaps it was because she had been frail and sickly since childhood, appearing weak and harmless as though waiting for death; or perhaps because she was uncontentious, with flattering skills that pleased him…

In any case, Ning Yin hadn’t killed her yet.

But this was only “temporary.”

Yu Lingxi was perceptive enough to accommodate the madman’s temperament, obediently playing the role of a caged canary, not provoking him.

Unfortunately, Ning Yin quite enjoyed provoking her. Yu Lingxi’s heart, no matter how strong, couldn’t bear serving a madman day after day.

It was only because she had fallen ill from fright these past two days that she could have a moment’s respite.

Having just recovered from her serious illness, Yu Lingxi finally had some peaceful time, leaning against the noble consort’s couch and reading a book.

Though the weather had turned warm, she was still wrapped in thick fox fur. Her complexion was somewhat pale, yet it didn’t diminish her beauty at all.

The thin light by the window gilded her exquisite profile. Her skin was as white as snow, her dark hair like fine silk clinging to her delicate figure, making her appear even more fragile and vulnerable. Only the beast-headed ring on her finger revealed her noble identity as the youngest daughter of the Great General’s family.

The ring had been given to her by her gravely ill mother with tears, after her father and brothers had died in battle, imploring her to survive no matter what.

Yu Lingxi’s gaze fell on the ring, and she couldn’t help feeling a pang of sorrow.

If her family were still alive, she would have been cherished and adored like a star surrounded by the moon, rather than shrinking in the Regent Prince’s mansion as a caged bird, facing a madman day and night.

The only consolation was that when Ning Yin wasn’t in one of his fits, he wasn’t particularly harsh with her.

She was sensitive to cold, so the palace always supplied silver-thread charcoal; precious incense that even the imperial palace rarely had was burned all day in the Regent Prince’s mansion.

It was tolerable; she could make do.

Yu Lingxi turned a page of her book with little interest, then saw her maid enter with a bow.

Hutao presented a gold-embossed invitation and cautiously said, “Miss, the Zhao household sent an invitation this morning.”

The Zhao household Hutao mentioned was the residence of Zhao Hui, the current Deputy Minister of Revenue. And Zhao Hui was Yu Lingxi’s uncle by marriage.

If she remembered correctly, today was her uncle’s birthday, and the household would certainly hold a grand celebration.

Her uncle was a greedy man. When Yu Lingxi’s father and brothers died in battle and her mother passed away from illness, she had no choice but to take refuge in the Zhao family. She couldn’t believe that when she was “gifted” to Ning Yin, her uncle hadn’t played a role in pushing it forward.

This was a knot in her heart that she couldn’t untie.

Yu Lingxi was too lazy to exchange pleasantries and was about to throw away the invitation when she noticed the paper was different.

A thin secret note fell from the folded layer of the Zhao family invitation. Curious, she opened it, and the name signed at the bottom made her pupils contract.

If there was one person in this world, neither relative nor kin, who would risk his life to help her, it would be Xue Cen.

The Xue family’s second son, who had grown up with her like childhood sweetheart, the legitimate grandson of the Prime Minister’s family, of noble birth, with an unmatched elegant handwriting that no one could imitate. Each stroke was the most familiar sight to her.

Upon seeing the eight forceful characters that read: “Meet at Zhao mansion, I will save you,” Yu Lingxi’s first reaction was not joy but panic.

What was Brother Cen planning to do? Was he tired of living?!

She hurriedly threw the secret note into the charcoal brazier and poked the ashes to pieces, making sure no traces remained.

Setting down the copper hook for stirring the charcoal, she was still uneasy and asked the attendant outside: “Where is the Prince?”

The attendant replied, “The Prince has gone to the palace to handle important matters and will return late. If Madam has any concerns, this servant can relay them.”

“Important matters” meant nothing more than confiscating property and tormenting the masterminds behind the assassins.

Hearing that Ning Yin would not return to the mansion for some time, Yu Lingxi felt slightly relieved.

After pondering for a moment, she instructed her maid in a casual tone: “Hutao, bring out the pair of hundred-year snow ginseng we received last month. I’ll go to the Zhao mansion to offer birthday congratulations.”

…

The Zhao family’s birthday banquet had many visitors, providing the best cover.

Yu Lingxi arrived wearing a veiled hat to conceal her face. She deliberately avoided the guests and found a deserted corner in the garden to sit down.

She didn’t know what kind of tea the Zhao household served. It smelled fragrant when first sipped but left an extremely bitter aftertaste.

Yu Lingxi only took one sip before setting down the teacup.

Soon, footsteps approached from behind. As she turned around, Yu Lingxi was stunned.

After two years apart, Xue Cen seemed to have lost some weight, but he still maintained his elegant scholarly appearance, like sunlight after a storm.

“Second Sister, you have suffered,” he said.

Looking at Yu Lingxi’s pointed chin, his eyes quickly reddened: “Don’t worry, he won’t be able to abuse you much longer…”

Yu Lingxi had no time for pleasantries or reminiscing.

She lifted the light gauze of her veiled hat and said solemnly: “Brother Cen, I am fine now. Don’t do anything foolish.”

Xue Cen thought she was putting on a brave face, and the pain in his eyes intensified.

“The Regent Prince is tyrannical and cruel. He deserves to die.”

He lowered his voice: “Don’t be afraid. Once my plan succeeds, I’ll make him pay with his life for all the pain and humiliation you’ve suffered these two years! Then, no one can stop us…”

“Xue Cen!” Yu Lingxi wished she could wake him up.

Xue Cen had probably forgotten how Ning Yin had secured the Regent Prince’s throne through mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

He had killed his brother, murdered his father, and disowned all his relatives. The court and the kingdom were mere chess pieces and playthings in his hands—how could he be easily shaken?

The “Beauty Lamps” under the eaves of the prince’s mansion were a clear warning.

Yu Lingxi was extremely anxious and earnestly advised him to cherish his life: “For the sake of our childhood friendship, whatever you’re planning, stop it immediately!”

For a moment, everything was so quiet that only the rustling of wind could be heard.

In this dead silence, a sudden, extremely light “tsk” sound came: “Such childhood sweethearts.”

The familiar voice, tinged with a smile, instantly drained the color from Yu Lingxi’s face.

Xue Cen also saw the newcomer, and his expression immediately became extraordinarily vivid.

Under the moon gate framed by begonia blossoms, a handsome man in sandalwood-purple royal robes stood tall, his hands resting on a jade-handled, gold-inlaid walking stick. Around him, officials and attendants trembled on their knees.

Ning Yin had been standing there for who knows how long. His cold eyes swept over Yu Lingxi and landed on Xue Cen.

After two years in the Regent Prince’s mansion, no one understood Ning Yin’s temperament better than she did.

Today, secretly meeting Xue Cen without Ning Yin’s knowledge was already a huge risk, and now they had been caught in such a scene…

One must know that you can’t reason with a madman. Moreover, even a basketful of explanations couldn’t clarify such a scene.

“Your Highness…”

Yu Lingxi’s legs weakened, and she knelt. Being obedient and admitting fault was always the safest option.

Her thoughts raced, but before she could explain, Xue Cen stepped in front of her.

He must have recalled some humiliating memory from the past. He pulled Yu Lingxi up and protected her behind him, saying coldly: “Second Sister, we don’t need to kneel to such a person!”

Ning Yin narrowed his eyes, which was a sign of his anger.

Yu Lingxi was both afraid and angry—afraid of Ning Yin’s madness and angry at Xue Cen for adding fuel to the fire. A mouthful of blood instantly choked in her chest, leaving her speechless.

“Very good. Young Master Xue’s spirit has grown stronger,” Ning Yin said, smiling in a way that made Yu Lingxi’s hair stand on end.

She was too familiar with Ning Yin’s character: the more beautifully this madman smiled, the more ruthlessly he killed.

What happened next was predictable: Yu Lingxi was dragged back to the Regent Prince’s mansion and confined to the palace.

Xue Cen was dragged away by Ning Yin’s men, his fate unknown.

None of the more than a hundred guests present—including the advisors and allies of the Xue family—dared to plead for mercy.

In the prince’s mansion bedchamber.

The maids lit silver-thread charcoal braziers and wrapped her in thick fox fur, but Yu Lingxi’s fingertips were as cold as ice. Her heart hung on a knife’s edge, and her stomach churned.

Since returning from the Zhao mansion, she had been feeling unwell.

Yu Lingxi didn’t have Xue Cen’s courage; she wanted to live.

She gazed at her beast-headed ring for a long time, finally patted her cheeks to gather her spirits, and called her maid: “Hutao, help me with my makeup.”

Just as she finished her makeup, Ning Yin returned from the Court of Judicial Review.

As the chamber door was pushed open, Yu Lingxi instinctively stood up abruptly. Teardrops still hung on her eyelashes, and her teeth lightly bit her red, full lower lip, hesitating to speak.

Ning Yin entered without looking at her.

His left leg had an old injury, said to have been inflicted during his years in exile as a youth. He walked slowly, which gave him an air of elegant leisure.

Yu Lingxi noticed speckles of dark red on his boots—she didn’t need to guess whose blood it was—making her even more anxious.

Xue Cen must have been severely tortured, but should still be alive. If he were dead, Ning Yin would have brought his head when entering the door, inviting Yu Lingxi to “appreciate” it.

The floor lamps illuminated the hall brightly, and the attendants quietly withdrew.

Ning Yin sat on the edge of the couch, methodically wiping his long fingers clean, and called: “Come here.”

During these two years in the Regent Prince’s mansion, what Yu Lingxi feared most was when he would wipe the fresh blood from his hands while smiling at her, saying: “Lingxi, come here.”

But she had no choice. Xue Cen’s life was in Ning Yin’s hands.

Yu Lingxi calmed herself and tried her best to make her posture appear less rigid, then moved over with her head lowered.

Then, with a thud, she knelt before Ning Yin and said in a small voice: “Your Highness, I was wrong.”

Ning Yin continued to unhurriedly wipe his fingers.

Because of his difficulty walking, he had concentrated on training his upper body, giving him arm strength beyond that of ordinary men. His joints were pale and slender, with veins slightly protruding on the back of his hand. He could easily crush a person’s neck bones.

He glanced over, his voice particularly gentle: “Tell me, what did you do wrong?”

As Yu Lingxi bowed, her slender waist revealed an alluringly graceful curve. Her fingers anxiously twisted the edge of her sleeve as she tried to make her voice sound more sincere.

“I was wrong to leave without Your Highness’s permission to reminisce with my sworn brother.”

She deliberately emphasized the words “sworn brother,” cleverly arguing her case, hoping to dispel Ning Yin’s anger.

Yu Lingxi wanted to save Xue Cen, not because he was the elegant and refined legitimate grandson of the Prime Minister’s family, nor because she still harbored innocent romantic feelings from her youth.

It was because on the night she was forced into a sedan chair and presented to the prince’s mansion, the proud and moonlight-clear Second Young Master Xue had gritted his teeth and prostrated himself at the young Regent Prince’s feet, kneeling humbly in the pouring rain until dawn.

He was her late brother’s only close friend. Countless young ladies in Chang’an were infatuated with him, and his future had been bright. Yu Lingxi owed him a debt of gratitude.

Ning Yin seemed to snort with laughter: “Sworn brother? I’ve heard that you and the Prime Minister’s second son Xue were childhood sweethearts with lingering affection.”

“Childhood sweethearts is true, lingering affection is false. It was just a joke when our parents were alive…”

Before she could finish speaking, she felt a chill at the back of her neck.

The Regent Prince, who struck fear into people’s hearts, was born extremely handsome. His smile was particularly stunning, with a kind of pale, morbid gentleness.

“Why don’t I fulfill the wishes of you two ill-fated lovers?” he said softly.

Those long, well-proportioned hands that had taken countless lives lingered around Yu Lingxi’s slender neck, causing a shudder of terror.

Yu Lingxi suppressed the fear in her heart and raised her head: “No… not good.”

Ning Yin showed no discernible emotion as his fingers lightly gripped the back of her neck.

She understood that without some drastic measure, tonight would not end well.

Yu Lingxi had to steel her heart.

She bit her red lips and raised her delicate fingertips tremblingly, inexpertly reaching for Ning Yin’s belt and outer robe.

Her long lashes fluttered, her fair hands soft as if boneless.

Ning Yin slightly raised his eyebrows.