It was an extremely terrifying dream, where all struggles seemed futile. Knowing the outcome would be unbearably tragic, yet unable to prevent it from happening, she watched helplessly as everything reached a point of no return.

She was a murderer.

A muffled “boom” of thunder sounded. Although it was early winter, there was such lightning. Shen Miao sat up abruptly from her dream, gasping for breath.

Her hand unconsciously clutched something, and she felt someone gently patting her back. The touch was gentle and reassuring, containing a comforting strength. She leaned against the person’s embrace, clutching her neck, feeling her face and head drenched in sweat, nearly unable to breathe.

The person was quite patient, allowing her to curl up against them. After a pause, they placed a hand on the back of Shen Miao’s head, pressing her into their embrace. Shen Miao’s body trembled violently as she bit down on his shoulder. He shuddered but didn’t move away, simply patting her head soothingly.

After some time, the thunder gradually subsided, leaving only the patter of rain flowing from the window into the room. Shen Miao’s heart slowly calmed down. She released her bite, and her nose touched something cold—a golden button.

They were in an extremely intimate position.

She slowly sat up from the person’s embrace.

The other person stood up, and moments later, the room brightened. Someone held an oil lamp, placed it on the small table in front of the couch, and sat down on the edge of the couch. With captivating features and handsome appearance, as elegant and noble as ever, who else could it be but Xie Jingxing? In the lamplight, his gaze carried less of its usual nonchalance and more reassurance, subtly revealing concern.

Shen Miao’s heart tightened.

Lost in a terrifying nightmare she couldn’t wake from, the dream didn’t merely feel like a dream—it seemed as if it had truly happened. Alarmed by the frightening truth, she momentarily lost her composure, clinging to warmth like a drowning person grasping at straws, reluctant to let go. Yet she forgot that in the dead of night, his arrival was itself a matter worth pondering.

The secret she had always kept locked away seemed to develop cracks in this moment, and facing her was the most cunning hunter. Xie Jingxing, with his perceptive eyes, could likely guess much even from the slightest words.

“What did you dream about?” Xie Jingxing trimmed the excess wick in the oil lamp. Even this simple action, when performed by him, created a perfect silhouette in the lamplight, delightful to behold.

“Just a nightmare,” Shen Miao said, lowering her gaze. Yet her voice still had a moment of unnaturalness.

Xie Jingxing paused, then turned to look at her. “So you have moments of fear too?”

Suddenly, Shen Miao felt a surge of anger and said, “I’m not the Prince of Rui. Life in this world is inherently difficult; naturally, I have times when I’m afraid.”

Xie Jingxing looked at her. His eyes were beautiful, shaped like perfect peach blossoms. Usually, they contained traces of both frivolity and seriousness, making it impossible to discern his true thoughts, yet capable of making women drown in his alluring gaze. But now, as he faced Shen Miao, his eyes were as deep as autumn waters, like dark jade, making it difficult to perceive the emotions within. He said, “Don’t be afraid, it’s just a dream.”

Shen Miao’s nose tingled, and an incomparable sadness suddenly welled up in her heart. She prided herself on having excellent emotional control in this second life. Though hatred and love were sometimes impossible to conceal, after brief outbursts, she could always tidy them away neatly. However, tonight’s dream suddenly made it difficult for her to face herself. Perhaps it was the desolate sound of the rain, or perhaps Xie Jingxing’s gaze was too gentle, making her hardened heart vulnerable, wanting to find a place to cry loudly.

Her vision blurred, and she felt something on her face. Looking up, she saw Xie Jingxing holding a handkerchief, wiping away her tears.

She had indeed started crying.

The young man’s knuckles were slender as he slightly bowed his head, his movements gentle, his gaze remarkably serious, as if performing the most delicate task in the world. His long eyelashes lowered, his face handsome as a painting. Having shed his daytime indifference and mischief, he now appeared like the most gentle of companions—like an elder brother, or perhaps a friend.

Shen Miao was somewhat dazed. Until Xie Jingxing finished wiping her tears, she noticed her gaze, and raised an eyebrow to ask, “No more crying?”

She turned away her gaze. “Thank you.” This “thank you,” at last, was no longer dry and sarcastic like before; such a gentle tone seemed to be a first.

Xie Jingxing looked at her with some surprise, then suddenly smiled and patted her head. “What did you dream about? You kept saying ‘Madam Shen’ over and over. What went wrong?”

Shen Miao’s heart jumped, and she looked at Xie Jingxing, asking, “What did I say in my sleep?”

Xie Jingxing pondered for a moment, then said, “You said, ‘Madam Shen, you were wrong,’ and ‘I’m sorry, Madam Shen.'” He asked thoughtfully, “What mistake did you make in your dream that was so serious?”

Hearing this, Shen Miao actually sighed in relief and casually replied, “Nothing, it was just a dream.” She didn’t realize that Xie Jingxing had observed her relief, and his fingers slightly curled.

“But,” Shen Miao suddenly remembered something and looked at him, asking, “What are you doing here so late?” Even Shen Miao herself hadn’t noticed that she had grown accustomed to Xie Jingxing’s midnight intrusions into her chambers; there was no anger in her question now, as if it were a completely ordinary occurrence.

Xie Jingxing pulled a letter from his sleeve. “I originally planned to give you a gift.”

Shen Miao looked at him puzzledly, took the letter, and opened it, only to be startled.

The letter was densely filled with information about Chang Zaiqing’s affairs in Liuzhou, including the fact that Chang Zaiqing had abandoned a husband and son. These were all Chang Zaiqing’s secrets. She was momentarily stunned, not because of the letter’s contents, but because Xie Jingxing would give this to her.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Xie Jingxing tilted his head to look at her. “Did you already know?”

“Still, thank you for your kindness, Prince Rui,” Shen Miao put away the letter. “Please don’t involve yourself in this matter, Prince Rui. I’ll handle it myself.”

Xie Jingxing watched her for a while, then shook his head and smiled. “It seems I’ve meddled unnecessarily.”

Shen Miao was silent for a moment, and somehow felt the room had become cramped. She lowered her head, her gaze unintentionally falling on the corner of Xie Jingxing’s robe by the couch. The fabric was exquisite, with delicate gold embroidery. She could feel Xie Jingxing’s probing gaze on her. Shen Miao raised her head, trying her best to maintain composure as she met his eyes. “If there’s nothing else, you should go.”

Xie Jingxing stared at her.

Shen Miao frowned slightly. She should indeed thank him for pulling her out of the nightmare. But what kind of person was Xie Jingxing? His insight was profound; the longer she stayed with him, the more likely she would be stripped bare of all defenses. Shen Miao never wanted her secrets exposed to others, especially given Xie Jingxing’s sensitive identity. Even though Xie Jingxing currently showed no hostility toward her, Shen Miao dared not be too trusting.

Xie Jingxing said, “With such heavy rain, you want me to leave?”

Outside the window, the rain accompanied the diminishing thunder, seemingly unwilling to stop all night. His words nearly made Shen Miao forget her earlier heartache, and she said, “Does Prince Rui intend to stay overnight?”

Xie Jingxing’s eyes flickered. “Good idea.”

“Xie Jingxing!” Shen Miao rebuked in a low voice.

“You say my name so naturally,” Xie Jingxing tucked the handkerchief he’d used to wipe Shen Miao’s tears into her hand and said, “You sleep. I’ll leave when the rain stops.”

Shen Miao was furious, and whatever romantic atmosphere had briefly emerged in the room instantly vanished. How could a young woman sleep with a strange man watching? What absurdity was this? Xie Jingxing was always doing such inappropriate things.

“With Prince Rui here, I cannot sleep,” Shen Miao said expressionlessly. Xie Jingxing’s distraction had dispersed much of her earlier melancholy about Chang Zaiqing, making her face appear more relaxed.

Xie Jingxing reached out to lift her chin, forcing Shen Miao to look into his eyes, and drawled, “Look carefully. I am of imperial blood, possessing the aura of the true dragon. With me in your room, no evil spirits would dare approach. You won’t have nightmares.”

Shen Miao didn’t get angry but instead smiled. She broke free from his hand, “In that case, I should thank Prince Rui?”

“Indeed.”

Shen Miao glared at Xie Jingxing, but her mood gradually lightened. Xie Jingxing hadn’t asked about other matters—whether he truly hadn’t guessed or knew but pretended not to ask—either way, she felt she had escaped a crisis. Currently, she had no strength to deal with others, and Xie Jingxing’s silence was helpful. Their verbal sparring now seemed trivial.

Xie Jingxing walked to the window, adjusting it to prevent rain from entering, then sat at the table near the couch. He casually picked up a book, apparently intending to read. Without looking back, he said, “With me here, you can sleep peacefully.”

Shen Miao moved her lips, wanting to say something, but ultimately said nothing. Outside, there was bitter wind and rain, with frightening lightning and thunder. She wrapped herself in the quilt, only her head exposed, her gaze unconsciously drawn to the person at the table.

Even sitting, the young man’s figure appeared long and straight. He casually flipped through the book, yet with a very serious demeanor. Viewed from the side, he was truly extraordinarily handsome. Under the faint yellow lamplight, his entire being seemed gentler. Without his usual indifference, the current Xie Jingxing appeared steady and gentle, his silhouette seemingly capable of shielding against all storms. Even without speaking, he could inspire a sense of trust.

He was deeply scheming, cold and ruthless, deceiving everyone, yet also capable of resolute determination. He fooled the imperial family, engaged in subterfuge, appearing frivolous on the surface while wielding great power. He was not a good person, yet… not as heartless as imagined.

Shen Miao’s mood, amid the external wind and rain, had its bit of sorrow and pain seemingly covered under the pale lamplight. She slowly closed her eyes.

The pattering rain finally stopped after a long time. On the table, only a tiny bit of oil remained in the lamp, the flame flickering, about to extinguish.

The purple-robed young man at the table closed his book, stood up, and walked to the bedside.

On the bed, the young woman’s sleeping face was peaceful, emitting even breaths. Her long hair spread across the pillow. With closed eyes, she lacked her usual dignity, showing more tranquility, making her appear even more childlike.

She was only sixteen, still just a young girl. In ordinary families, sixteen-year-old girls might be thinking about which young man looked handsome, or which family’s sachet smelled the nicest.

Xie Jingxing’s gaze was somewhat complex.

From the first time he met Shen Miao, when she had just turned fifteen, she had displayed a shrewdness completely at odds with her age. It wasn’t steadiness but shrewdness; the Shen family faced a very complex situation, yet she never seemed to panic, dealing with situations as they came, as if she had anticipated everything.

Yet she was still just a young girl, just like her nickname, Shen Jiaojiao, who should have been raised delicately. Instead, she was forced to grow up. Never showing vulnerability didn’t mean she wasn’t vulnerable. Like earlier, when she awoke from the nightmare, the despair in her eyes was enough to shock anyone.

She had clutched his clothes, her entire body trembling, as if experiencing something frightening. Yet in an instant, she had recovered her usual dignified demeanor. Like an injured beast that must constantly display its strength because once enemies discover its wound, they will ruthlessly strike.

Xie Jingxing was puzzled. He was not a kind person and possessed a ruthlessness uncommon in others, but every time he faced Shen Miao, he always left some room. From their first meeting, his attitude had been one of concession. He was yielding to her.

But he didn’t know why.

Just like how he deliberately said the rain hadn’t stopped, merely to watch her fall asleep. She was very afraid but tried to be strong, so he could only pretend not to know.

The rain had stopped. He tucked Shen Miao’s blanket, lowered the gauze curtain, and left the room.

On the bed, Shen Miao’s eyelashes trembled slightly, but she didn’t open her eyes.

The mansion adjacent to the Shen residence had now been purchased entirely by the Prince of Rui. Xie Jingxing walked out from inside, and Tie Yi and Nan Qi, who had been waiting outside, hurriedly followed.

“The palace invitation, accept it again,” Xie Jingxing said.

Tie Yi was startled: “Master, didn’t you say you wouldn’t go?”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Xie Jingxing glanced at him.

Tie Yi hurriedly acknowledged but was puzzled. The invitation was from several princes. Several of Ming Qi’s princes and Da Qin’s Crown Prince, Xie Jingxing, hadn’t wanted to get involved and had refused. Why did he suddenly decide to go now? Tie Yi carefully glanced at his master again, noting that Xie Jingxing’s eyes carried a coldness, making him even more confused.

Xie Jingxing’s gaze was slightly cold.

In Shen Miao’s dream, she had not only called for Luo Xuexue but also for Prince Ding, Fu Xiuyi.

“Never like Fu Xiuyi again…” His lips suddenly curved into a mocking smile. “Like?”

Having liked someone in the past was always an annoying concept.

The winter thunderstorm in Jing City quickly turned cold the next day. It seemed as if deep winter had arrived overnight. People discussed the previous night’s heavy rain, all saying it had come rather abruptly.

“I didn’t expect the rain to come so suddenly. I forgot about the flowers in the courtyard. By the time Hua Yi remembered, several pots had already shattered. Those flowers were always carefully tended, which makes this quite a pity.” Chen Ruoqiu was arranging Shen Wan’s clothes while discussing the previous night’s heavy rain.

Chen Ruoqiu had always insisted on a certain elegance, even finding rare varieties of flowers and plants. Shen Wan listened somewhat absentmindedly, his gaze not directed toward Chen Ruoqiu.

Chen Ruoqiu noticed Shen Wan’s demeanor and smiled, asking, “Does my lord have something on his mind?”

Shen Wan came back to himself, looked at Chen Ruoqiu, and said, “I’m thinking that Yue has reached the age to discuss marriage.”

Chen Ruoqiu’s heart skipped a beat, yet she smiled and said, “I know, and I’ve been looking for suitable families for Yue. But finding the right family takes time; we can’t hastily marry off Yue. You care for her too.”

“It’s been so long already.” This time, Shen Wan wasn’t placated by Chen Ruoqiu. He sternly said, “Ever since Yue turned sixteen, it’s been a full two years. Other families’ daughters, even if not yet married, have been engaged. If Yue delays any longer, it will be difficult to find a suitable family in the future. The few families I gave you the other day are all quite good. I’ve checked—they match our status, and their households don’t have too many troublesome matters. Yue wouldn’t suffer if she married into one of them.”

“While that’s true,” Chen Ruoqiu managed a smile, “it still requires time for Yue to become familiar with them.”

“It’s been two years. Every time we discuss potential matches with her, she declines. And you, as her mother, indulge her.” Shen Wan’s gaze was sharp as he said, “Although our family isn’t lacking, Yue’s aspirations are too high. If she has inappropriate ambitions and drags our entire branch down with her, that would be a severe loss.”

Shen Wan’s gaze was meaningful, and Chen Ruoqiu’s heart skipped a beat. Shen Wan wasn’t a fool; with Shen Yue repeatedly refusing to marry, a father would naturally grow suspicious. Shen Yue was deeply in love with Prince Ding, Fu Xiuyi. If Shen Wan knew this, he probably wouldn’t spare Shen Yue.

“Some families are beyond our reach,” Shen Wan spoke with hidden meaning. “It’s better for Yue to be realistic and give up any improper thoughts early. Otherwise, being so deeply entangled, it will be too late to extricate herself.”

Chen Ruoqiu broke into a cold sweat. Having been married to Shen Wan for so many years, she could almost be certain that Shen Wan must have learned of Shen Yue’s thoughts. But Chen Ruoqiu knew Shen Yue’s temperament all too well. When Shen Miao was still around, Shen Yue had set her heart on Prince Ding. Now, without Shen Miao, Shen Yue would likely be even more resolute. If asked to marry someone else, Shen Yue would likely refuse to the death.

“But my lord,” Chen Ruoqiu still wanted to plead for Shen Yue, “Yue is still young, and some things can’t be rushed. You’ve always doted on her. Can’t you be understanding this time?”

Shen Wan took a deep breath, looked at Chen Ruoqiu, and his gaze showed some disappointment. He said, “My lady has always understood the bigger picture. How have you become so unclear at this point? Prince Ding is far from as simple as he appears on the surface. When the main branch was still here, with the Shen family holding military power, Prince Ding might have had some apprehensions. Now that the main branch has split from the family, my brother and I are both civil officials with smooth careers. Prince Ding won’t value us. When Prince Ding marries, he will surely marry someone whose family benefits him. Yue has little significance to him, so how would he make her his principal wife? At most, she’d be a concubine. Even if Yue gained his favor, how could a concubine compete with a principal wife from a powerful background? In the end, Yue would be the one to suffer.”

Chen Ruoqiu broke into a cold sweat upon hearing this. She had originally thought that Shen Wan disapproved of Shen Yue marrying Prince Ding because he didn’t favor Prince Ding in the succession struggle. But now it seemed that Shen Wan’s assessment of Prince Ding wasn’t as an ordinary man but as someone who understood the weighing of advantages and disadvantages. Such a man would rarely have true feelings, and even if he did, Chen Ruoqiu was unwilling to watch her legitimate daughter submit to another woman.

She said, “I see now. It was my oversight. My lord thinks of everything for Yue’s benefit, yet I complained—it was all my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Shen Wan sighed. “Yue’s temperament has become more arrogant than before. You should help her moderate it to avoid future trouble. I’ve had my men compile a list of good families in the capital. I’ll have it sent to you shortly. You should select a few, and in the coming days, arrange for Yue to meet them.” After a pause, he said, “This matter truly cannot be delayed any longer.”

Having just learned of this matter, Chen Ruoqiu now stood on the same side as Shen Wan and immediately agreed. After Shen Wan left for court, the list was delivered. Chen Ruoqiu carefully examined each entry, marking those she found suitable, truly planning to have Shen Yue meet these families.

Yet she didn’t notice that among the maids sweeping the courtyard in Qiushui Garden, someone quietly set aside their work and left.

Shen Yue’s brush suddenly halted, creating a long ink streak on the unfinished painting. The scene was a beautiful autumn evening in the mountains, but now a stark ink line appeared in the blue sky. She paid no attention to this, instead furiously questioning the maid before her.

“What did you say? Mother is choosing a husband for me?”

“Second Miss,” the maid lowered her head cautiously, “Madam has already selected several people from the list and sent out invitations. She plans to take Second Miss to visit them in the coming days.”

“Outrageous!” Shen Yue angrily threw down her brush, though it wasn’t clear who she was cursing. Her usually gentle and elegant demeanor had vanished, and the surrounding maids didn’t dare make a sound. Everyone knew that although this Second Miss appeared delicate, she showed no mercy when dealing with servants who displeased her.

Shen Yue revealed an expression of frustration.

She was now eighteen. At eighteen in Jing City, she was eligible for marriage, and those not yet married should at least be engaged. But she still wasn’t promised to anyone. She was a talented young woman with boundless abilities, attractive, gentle, and intelligent. Countless men admired her, but she only wanted to marry one person: Fu Xiuyi.

Prince Ding, Fu Xiuyi, was the youngest among the princes and the only one who had not yet taken a consort. Back then, Shen Miao had fallen in love with Fu Xiuyi at first sight, enchanted by his demeanor—how could Shen Yue not be similarly affected? Perhaps such a man was born to enchant others. He lacked the strange temperaments of other princes, was young and handsome, and was of imperial lineage—perhaps the most noble man in Ming Qi apart from the Emperor. Shen Yue had always believed that only she was worthy of Fu Xiuyi. So when Shen Miao shamelessly made her admiration for Fu Xiuyi public, Shen Yue felt that Shen Miao was insulting the man she loved.

Fortunately, Fu Xiuyi had been extremely cold towards Shen Miao, and now, there was nothing between Shen Miao and Fu Xiuyi, which relieved Shen Yue. Once, she had overheard Shen Wan and Shen Gui discussing how Fu Xiuyi might reluctantly marry Shen Miao to gain Shen Xin’s military power. She had been anxious for a long time, almost wishing Shen Miao didn’t exist. Fortunately, Shen Miao had eventually given up.

Now that Shen Miao is no longer competing with her, why were her parents forcing her?

“I want to talk to Mother. I won’t marry! I won’t marry!” Shen Yue stood up, sweeping the writing implements off the table in disarray, clearly furiously angry. The surrounding maids hurriedly knelt, but none dared to persuade her.

Meanwhile, in Caiyun Garden, someone else heard the commotion.

Caiyun Garden was much more desolate now than it had been two years ago. After Ren Wanyun’s death and Shen Gui’s injury to his reproductive organs, Old Madam Shen was furious and forbade Shen Gui from bringing any more disreputable women into the mansion. Shen Gui had given up entirely, knowing he could never father children again. He found the courtyard irritating to look at and simply spent his days frequenting brothels. The only women remaining in Caiyun Garden, apart from the servants, were Concubine Wan and Shen Dongling.

Shen Gui had once had two sons, which could be considered an abundance of heirs compared to the third branch. Unfortunately, now only a concubine-born daughter remained. Regardless, Shen Dongling was Shen Gui’s only bloodline now, so the servants treated both Shen Dongling and Concubine Wan with respect.

“What’s all that noise outside?” Concubine Wan, who was doing needlework, looked up. Over these two years, she had fared well, appearing much more confident than her formerly timid self.

The little maid at the door said, “Concubine, it’s the Second Miss throwing a tantrum because Third Madam wants to arrange her marriage. She’s heading to Qiushui Garden now.”

With a snort, Concubine Wan laughed, shaking her head. “This Second Miss is getting angry over this matter.” She suddenly thought of something, her expression darkening as she said, “She truly doesn’t know how fortunate she is.”

Her Shen Dongling was also a young lady of the Shen family, not much different in age from Shen Yue. But Old Madam Shen looked down on concubine-born daughters, and Shen Gui didn’t care about household matters at all. Shen Dongling’s status was low, and despite all this time, few had come to propose marriage. Even those who did were strange, clearly not from good families.

While she worried about Shen Dongling’s marriage prospects, elsewhere, Shen Yue, who had people managing her affairs, was still dissatisfied. Birth truly was a matter of accumulated virtue.

Just as she was thinking this, Shen Dongling stood up from behind the screen. She had grown considerably taller, with a slender figure and sharp features, bearing some of Concubine Wan’s charm from her days as an opera performer.

“Where are you going?” Concubine Wan asked casually.

Shen Dongling said, “Concubine Mother, haven’t you always been concerned about my marriage?”

Concubine Wan was startled, not understanding her meaning.

“I’ve waited two years. Now, the opportunity has come,” Shen Dongling said.