Dazzling flames wrapped in waves of heat crashed forward, bathing Yu Lingxi’s sweat-drenched face in a gorgeous red.

Ning Yin looked at her, covered in blood as though he were in purgatory.

There was no time for pleasantries. The fire ravaged the roof, and Yu Lingxi watched helplessly as the beam above gave way with a cracking sound of unbearable strain.

“Watch out!”

Yu Lingxi instinctively grabbed Ning Yin’s wrist and pulled. Almost simultaneously, the heavy bluestone slab closed, and the burning beam crashed down with crackling sparks.

They tumbled down the stone steps, but the landing wasn’t as painful as expected. Yu Lingxi was tightly protected in Ning Yin’s embrace.

Yu Lingxi quickly propped herself up and asked with a trembling voice, “Are you all right, Ning Yin?”

Ning Yin held her so tightly as if he wanted to embed her entirely within his body, building a barrier for her with his bones and blood.

He began to laugh.

Their bells vibrated with the rise and fall of their chests, like two closely pressed, trembling hearts.

“Fortunately…”

Ning Yin’s voice carried the hoarseness of smoke inhalation, resonating softly by her ear, “…I found you.”

“Yes, you found me.”

Yu Lingxi reached for his face, responding softly, “It’s all over now, Ning Yin.”

His face was very hot. This secret cellar was too close to the fire; the ice in the corner had melted into puddles, making the air both hot and stuffy.

Yu Lingxi stood up, leading Ning Yin toward the inner ice chamber, finding a clean, cool place for him to sit.

The bone-chilling ice room effectively shielded them from the heat and the stinging pain brought by the raging fire.

Ning Yin’s eyes were dark and deep, his pale face nearly blending with the ice blocks.

The soft blue light of the chamber enveloped Yu Lingxi’s slender figure, reminding him of that terrible nightmare, and causing a suffocating pain in his chest.

Having narrowly escaped death, Yu Lingxi failed to notice his unusually quiet demeanor.

She placed her hand on the mountain of ice blocks to cool it, then pressed her cold palm against Ning Yin’s burning face to help reduce his temperature.

“You scared me to death.”

She said, still shaken, “When I heard the bell vibrating, my first reaction wasn’t joy, but fear.”

The fire was so intense; she couldn’t imagine what would have happened if their connection had been delayed even a moment longer.

Ning Yin raised his hand, seemingly wanting to touch her temple.

But seeing the fresh blood soaking his hands and sleeves, he casually lowered his hand and chuckled hoarsely, “I’m sorry, Suisui.”

Yu Lingxi’s breath caught.

After two lifetimes, this was the first time she had heard Ning Yin say “sorry.” Even when he had misunderstood her intentions with the sachet, Ning Yin had only silently embraced her tightly.

“At the beginning of our marriage, there should have been no bloodshed.”

Ning Yin wiped his hands on the ice blocks beside him until the transparent ice was dyed a deep red like agate, then asked, “Do you hate me?”

Yu Lingxi widened her eyes in surprise and stepped back to look at him.

“Ning Yin, what nonsense are you talking?” She frowned, using her cool fingertips to smooth the red at the corners of his eyes.

“Suisui should hate me.”

Ning Yin wore a faint smile, but his eyes held heavy gloom, “I was born inauspicious. Whenever I come to see you, I always bring the filthy stench of blood.”

It was his fault; he had ruined the sweetness of their once-in-a-lifetime wedding.

Yu Lingxi’s throat tightened, and for a long while, she couldn’t speak.

The little madman who would get unusually excited at the sight of blood had begun to despise the filth that death brought.

“Each time you come to see me, you cut through thorns and brambles, risking your life to protect me.”

Yu Lingxi hoarsely corrected him, “You used all your strength to reach my side. Even love is not enough, how could there be resentment?”

He could have left the fire, just as she could have escaped from the ice cellar.

Love was like a log over a cliff; if one end became lighter, the other would fall into the abyss. Yu Lingxi felt incredibly fortunate because the moment they heard the bell sound, they both instinctively chose to rush toward each other.

She exhaled a white breath and simply pressed her forehead against his, their noses touching.

After searching through the fire for so long, Ning Yin’s sleeves had become quite charred, and his lips were dry and cracked from the heat, seeping thin traces of blood.

So Yu Lingxi leaned in and, in this icy realm, carefully and tenderly took his lips between hers, gently caressing them, moistening them with sweet dew.

The pale blue light of the ice chamber coated their pressed profiles, quiet and gentle.

Lingxi’s lips and tongue were warm and soft, unlike the icy lifelessness in his nightmare.

Ning Yin opened his mouth and began to kiss her back, intertwining and claiming as if offering his life, unceasing until death.

Yu Lingxi coughed, and the heat that had just risen quickly faded to paleness.

It was far too cold in the ice chamber. By the time Ning Yin withdrew his lips, his large robe was already draped over her.

“It’s a bit dirty, but Suisui will have to make do,” he said.

Yu Lingxi suddenly remembered that in late spring of the previous year, when Zhao Xu had locked her in the storehouse, Ning Yin had similarly removed his robe to wrap her, saying calmly, “The young lady will have to make do.”

“There might be a secret passage leading to the ice harvesting area here.”

Yu Lingxi gathered her thoughts and reminded him.

Ning Yin nodded, bent down on one knee, and tried to carry her.

“That’s not necessary.”

Yu Lingxi’s gaze withdrew from his injured palm, and she shook her head lightly but firmly, “I can walk on my own.”

The deeper they went, the more ice there was, and the colder it became, freezing to the point that their heads ached.

She held Ning Yin’s hand, and no matter how much he was repulsed by the filth and stench on his fingers, she gripped tightly.

Their bells trembled and resonated like cicada songs as they walked together through the long and winding secret passage. No matter how rugged, bumpy, dark, or muddy it was, they never let go.

…

Yu Huanchen and Chen Feng were nearly frantic with worry.

The fire was so intense that there was virtually no possibility of survival for those inside, yet Yu Huanchen still led the imperial guards, pouring bucket after bucket of water onto the burning palace.

Only when blood-stained Ning Yin, embracing Yu Lingxi, came from the North Garden did a glimmer of hope burst forth in Yu Huanchen’s bloodshot eyes. He threw down his bucket and rushed forward, saying, “Suisui! Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Brother.”

Yu Lingxi tightened her grip on Ning Yin’s hand, with frost still unmelted on her eyelashes. Though disheveled, there wasn’t a trace of gloom or timidity.

Yu Huanchen glanced at Ning Yin, suppressing his misdirected anger, and said in a deep voice, “Let your brother take you back to the mansion.”

Yu Lingxi fell ill upon returning to Prince Jing’s mansion, developing a high fever.

It wasn’t her fault. The secret cellar had been so hot during the palace fire, then so intensely cold in the ice chamber. Such extreme temperature fluctuations would have been difficult for even the strongest constitution to withstand.

In her hazy consciousness, someone gently held her, feeding her bitter medicine drop by drop between her lips.

“Suisui.”

His serene voice penetrated through the murky darkness, calling softly and hoarsely, “Get well soon.”

The golden bell hidden in her garment vibrated urgently, just like his breathing, suppressed to the point of nearly losing control.

As the darkness receded like the tide, Yu Lingxi opened her sticky eyelashes.

The night was very deep. Ning Yin’s face, just inches away, displayed a pale handsomeness in the dim light, with dark weariness beneath his closed eyelashes.

Yu Lingxi blinked several times to confirm that this cold, frosty man before her was indeed the invincible, lofty little madman.

She had barely lifted her finger when Ning Yin suddenly opened his eyes.

Their gazes met, and before Yu Lingxi could say anything, Ning Yin pulled her into his embrace.

“Suisui’s eyes are very beautiful.”

He rubbed her thin shoulders and neck, and after a long while, continued, “Such beautiful eyes, yet it took so long for them to open.”

He had lost his usual teasing mischief, his voice cold and almost hoarse.

“I worried you.”

Yu Lingxi raised her arm, weakened by illness, and wrapped it around Ning Yin’s waist, “How long did I sleep?”

“A whole day.”

Ning Yin began to kiss her, from her forehead to her eyelashes, then to her lips, his breath hot yet gentle.

Clean and tender kisses, as if desperately confirming something, without a trace of desire.

“I haven’t washed up.”

Yu Lingxi pressed her lips together, stopping him from continuing downward, “My mouth tastes of medicine.”

Ning Yin said nothing, put on his clothes, got off the bed, and carried her to the adjacent washroom.

The bath in the washroom was kept warm year-round, with mist lingering in the air.

As their intimate garments were removed and piled on the soft couch, Yu Lingxi felt a slight stinging from her fingertips, which had been scraped by the bluestone slabs.

Ning Yin wasn’t in any better condition, with his right palm wrapped in gauze. He sat with bent knees by the pool, holding a bowl of warm porridge and slowly feeding the beautiful woman sitting in the misty water.

By the tender lamplight, Yu Lingxi noticed the crimson tattoo emerging on Ning Yin’s bare chest and was startled.

Strange—Ning Yin hadn’t yet entered the bath, nor had they… done that, so why had the tattoo suddenly appeared?

Yu Lingxi instinctively touched his chest and asked, “Why is this…”

Then her fingertip paused; the temperature wasn’t right.

Splash—she stood up from the pool, cupped Ning Yin’s face with both hands and very solemnly brought her face close to his.

Ning Yin was momentarily stunned, then obediently set down the porridge bowl and raised his hand to hold the back of her head.

“Feeling aroused?” he asked.

“You’re burning up.”

Yu Lingxi pressed her forehead against his, her brows furrowing even more, “You have a fever, Ning Yin.”

“Is that so?”

He appeared indifferent, his pale face showing a touch of color due to the fever. With narrowed eyes, he said, “I’ve heard that during a fever, one can make the other feel more comfortable.”

“…”

Very well, it seemed he had returned to his normal state.

Yu Lingxi’s heartfelt concern turned to annoyance. She emerged from the bath, put on her clothes with trembling hands, and instructed the waiting palace maids to call for the imperial physician.

The imperial physician arrived quickly, skillfully took his pulse, and stroked his beard, saying, “His Highness is detoxifying, so a slight fever is normal. There’s no need for excessive worry.”

“Poison?”

Yu Lingxi instinctively looked at Ning Yin.

Ning Yin sat dressed, and seeing Yu Lingxi staring until her eyes reddened, reluctantly explained, “The poisonous incense Ning Xuan prepared—I was exposed to a bit of it.”

He pinched Yu Lingxi’s little finger, “Such a lowly thing won’t take my life.”

The imperial physician nearby dutifully added, “Although the poisoning is minimal, prolonged accumulation of toxins is certainly not good…”

Ning Yin gave him a cold glance, and the physician wisely closed his mouth.

Remembering something, Yu Lingxi suddenly stood up, searched through the drawer in the inner room, and anxiously asked, “Where is the Hundred Remedies Pill that the medicine peddler left?”

“Gone,” Ning Yin rose and pulled her back.

“Gone?”

Yu Lingxi opened her mouth, but then recalled that Xue Chen had been poisoned with “Hundred Flowers Death” yet had not succumbed to it. With minimal conjecture, she could guess where the last Hundred Remedies Pill had gone.

Her nose tingled with emotion. She sat blankly for a while, then raised her eyes and said, “Bring paper and brush.”

When the attendant brought them, Yu Lingxi closed her eyes to recall and then wrote out a prescription.

In her previous life, Ning Yin’s body was almost suitable for breeding venomous insects, no better than his current condition. When researching prescriptions, he never concealed anything from Yu Lingxi.

From years of grinding ink and attending to him, Yu Lingxi knew many prescriptions with effects equivalent to the Hundred Remedies Pill.

After having the imperial physician verify the prescription, she ordered someone to quickly gather the herbs and prepare the decoction.

Returning to the bedchamber, she found Ning Yin smiling as he reclined on the bed, watching her.

“Don’t you want to try it while it’s hot?” he asked.

Yu Lingxi looked puzzled. Just as she was about to ask “Try what?”, she heard Ning Yin’s morbid laughter: “This prince doesn’t often fall ill. The next time I want to use something burning hot, it might be years from now.”

Yu Lingxi blinked, then blinked again.

“Stop it.”

Realizing his meaning, she was so angry she wanted to hit him, “Take better care of your own body.”

If he didn’t care for himself, there were plenty of others who would care for him.

Ning Yin smiled as he pulled Yu Lingxi into his embrace. He loved her lively, animated appearance.

Even when she was angry at him, scolding or hitting him, it was better than lying motionless on the bed.

“Lie down and rest, behave yourself.”

Yu Lingxi struggled lightly but felt his scorching breath against her ear.

Smiling, he said casually, “My body only has value when you are alive and well.”