Yingzi’s words left everyone present utterly stunned. What exactly did he mean by that?

Only after his anxious outburst did Yingzi actually look properly at the princess consort, and seeing the large, bloody wound on her forehead, he immediately fell silent.

Truthfully, he had complete confidence in the princess consort’s ability to handle Chu Feiyan—whether it was the once-famous civil and martial examinations, or scheming to ruin her chances at marriage, Her Highness had won both rounds beautifully!

He’d only worried that Her Highness might lose her patience and ruin Prince Yao’s grand scheme!

Whoever had secretly drawn that forbidden totem in the carriage back then, Her Highness dared not bring it to Nanzhao—but Prince Yao dared.

Prince Yao never personally escorted anyone or anything except military provisions and wounded soldiers. This time, agreeing to Prince Nanzhao’s request was clearly meant to use that totem to make trouble through Chu Feiyan!

Nanzhao was a stagnant pond—without throwing in a large stone, no ripples would ever form. To draw out news of the Lonely Isle as quickly as possible, Chu Feiyan was the key this time!

So, for now, Chu Feiyan truly couldn’t be harmed—this woman had to be sent to Nanzhao!

Yingzi had been worried Her Highness might let her temper flare and truly break things off with Chu Feiyan! But everything he saw before him now proved Her Highness hadn’t acted recklessly at all—she’d kept the bigger picture in mind.

Seeing that the one who’d arrived wasn’t Jun Beiyue, Ziqing had already felt a pang of disappointment. Hearing Yingzi’s words now, the light in her eyes dimmed further, and she lowered her gaze, saying nothing.

Hongyi wasn’t about to let this slide, scolding through her tears, “Yingzi, whose side are you even on? Aren’t you worried Her Highness might have been bullied?”

“I… this… no, I just… oh, could Her Highness really be bullied by anyone?”

Yingzi stammered for a long moment before finally getting a sentence out, though it directly contradicted itself—clearly, right in front of him, Her Highness had indeed been mistreated.

“How could Her Highness possibly not be bullied! Do you think she doesn’t feel pain, doesn’t feel hurt, doesn’t feel sad? Do you think she’s some kind of god? Even the gods in heaven would feel sad if they were cursed at!” Hongyi shot back angrily.

Others might not know, but she understood better than anyone.

Her Highness was, in truth, a foolish girl at heart—impulsive enough to slap Situ Xin’er repeatedly over a mere servant like her, and yet unable to say a single word of comfort in return.

She would spend an entire afternoon holed up in the kitchen learning from Shiliang, helping him tend the soup, and even when Prince Yao didn’t drink it, though disappointment welled up inside her, she still managed to say, “I spent the whole afternoon making this.”

Everyone thought Her Highness was so strong, that no one could bully her, that she could handle anything. But who knew that this very woman, so fiercely determined to be strong, had once told her that she wished for someone who could calmly smooth over all the world’s chaos and complications, and take her home.

She was weak—she had wounds, all buried deep inside her heart. Otherwise, why would she long for someone who could heal her wounds?

Hongyi’s blunt, rapid words left Yingzi thoroughly embarrassed, and Ziqing’s expression turned somewhat pained, not knowing what to say either, simply telling Imperial Physician Gu to apply the medicine.

Imperial Physician Gu, ever perceptive, hurried to ask, “Your Highness is injured now—when will the prince be returning?”

To everyone’s surprise, Yingzi, still flustered, missed the deeper meaning behind the question entirely and blurted out, “I don’t know either. The prince sent me to fetch the poison master, and I’ve brought him back!”

At the words “poison master,” Ziqing’s heart trembled slightly, her already pale face growing paler still.

Seeing Imperial Physician Gu’s sharp glare, Yingzi finally caught on, quickly adding, “But he should be back soon—someone’s gone to report to him, he’s certain to rush back right away!”

Ziqing didn’t ask a single question, quietly letting Imperial Physician Gu tend to her wound. His hands trembled slightly as he worked, but Ziqing never once cried out in pain. After a good while, the wound was finally treated and wrapped in a layer of white gauze, though blood still seeped through faintly.

“Your Highness, please avoid water on this wound these next few days, and don’t bump it,” Imperial Physician Gu instructed quietly.

Ziqing nodded and rose to head toward the door, but before she’d taken more than a few steps, she found herself face to face with the very poison master Yingzi had brought back, being led over by a maidservant. Without realizing it, she slowed her pace, a flicker of fear crossing her eyes—fear even she herself hadn’t quite noticed.

Spotting Ziqing from a distance, the poison master immediately bowed in greeting. “Your Highness! It’s been a while—I trust you’ve been well!”

Ziqing was the one who had sought this man out to cultivate the poison within her, without revealing the truth of her constitution’s immunity to all poisons. She had requested large quantities of antidote, claiming she needed to take it regularly.

“Yes, you’ve traveled a long way, you must be tired. Please rest first,” Ziqing said flatly.

But the poison master stopped her. “Your Highness, relying on antidote long-term to suppress the poison isn’t a real solution—it will damage your health!”

“Yes, I know,” Ziqing said, turning to leave. The poison master watched her go, puzzled, with an odd, inexplicable impression that the Princess Yao seemed almost afraid of him.

Ziqing walked away hurriedly, her heart pounding rapidly. With the poison master already brought all the way to the estate, Jun Beiyue was clearly serious about this.

This poison—it wasn’t that she didn’t want it cured. It was that she couldn’t control herself once it began!

She had seen the look on the faces of those addicted to poison before. She didn’t want to expose herself in such a wretched state before that man—just as she didn’t want Jun Beiyue to see her true face!

If even she herself would be frightened, would fear it—how could she possibly ask anyone else to accept it?

Hurrying back to the east garden, she’d only just begun to calm herself, about to enter her room, when she heard the faint, faint sound of a zither drifting from within. Ziqing froze at once—the moment she heard that sound, she knew whose hands it came from. Such a delicate touch, one that would go unnoticed if not listened for carefully—only Xuanyuan Lige’s hands could produce such control!

He was inside!

How fortunate—ever since leaving Qinse Valley, there had been so many things she’d wanted to clarify with him.

The moment she pushed the door open, she saw Xuanyuan Lige seated composedly before the zither stand, gently stroking Wuzheng, undisturbed by her arrival, head slightly bowed in complete focus, purple robes and silver hair making him look every bit like an immortal musician.

A zither wasn’t just meant to be heard—it was meant to be watched too. Xuanyuan Lige was without doubt the most flawless musician in all the world; the movements of his fingers were composed and elegant, and this particular piece was leisurely and melodious, unfamiliar to her ears—likely another new composition of his.

Ziqing loved music like this that could put one at ease, especially played with such a light, delicate touch, as though the notes truly flowed forth gently from his fingertips.

If this had been before, Ziqing would have sat down quietly and simply enjoyed the tranquility of the music.

But now… a complicated look flashed through her eyes as she spoke flatly, without any form of address, going straight to the point. “Lishang—did you deliberately give it to me?”

He didn’t stop playing, and the music remained perfectly steady, without a single ripple of disturbance. He smiled warmly. “I already explained this back in Qinse Valley. No, I didn’t.”

“Then you knew the truth—why didn’t you tell me?” Ziqing asked again.

“He didn’t know the full truth either, not until he reached Qinse Valley and understood it clearly. Whatever you know now, I know as well,” he said, offering no further explanation—only stating fact.

He had always believed Lishang contained the fifty scrolls requiring Qinse Valley’s fingering techniques, and so assumed the instrument itself must have originated there.

It was only after he discovered her constitution’s immunity to all poisons, and even glimpsed the secret hidden on her face, that he began investigating her origins—tracing it back to Mu Ci of the Han Prime Minister’s residence, and further to Madam Ci, only then learning that Lishang, Wuzheng, and Mozheng had all been brought to Qinse Valley by Madam Ci, who was her own mother.

It was also then that he first learned of the connection between the Lonely Isle and Qinse Valley.

As for the sound of waves within the sea valley, he and she had discovered that at the same time.

As for gifting her the zither and the score back then, he truly hadn’t done it deliberately…