Tea. Did she want tea?

Was she asking him?

No—this was the woman softening, this was her, in her own way, pleading with him to let her off this once.

Looking at that stubborn little face, so meek and gentle now, not put on, genuinely, thoroughly meek, waiting a little anxiously for him to agree.

Jun Beiyue had already calmed down completely, a trace of self-mockery flickering through his eyes. This was probably the first time in his life he’d ever argued with someone like this.

He had never bothered arguing—either he fought directly, or he simply ignored the person. Why would he waste so many words?

Only this woman could make him the exception.

Unable to help the ache in his chest, he said flatly, “Imperial Physician Gu, why don’t you all wait outside for now.”

Seeing the Princess Consort like this, Imperial Physician Gu’s heart ached for her too. That last line of hers had been completely unexpected—such a stubborn woman, in the middle of such a fierce quarrel!

And then she’d suddenly gone quiet, asking her lord if he wanted tea. He’d only mentioned once that his lord liked a cup of green tea at this hour, and she’d remembered.

Imperial Physician Gu let out a small breath of relief, hurrying out with the poison master and his assistant. His lord had told them to wait outside—whether the poison would be cured or not was anyone’s guess now.

Once everyone had withdrawn, Jun Beiyue finally sat down, sighed, and said nothing.

Ziqing, too, let out a quiet sigh, and personally brewed a pot of green tea. Jun Beiyue’s palate was extremely particular—the water, the leaves, the temperature, the steeping time, all of it mattered enormously to him.

He only needed to smell the aroma and look at the color to instantly judge the tea and the water, and one sip would tell him everything he needed to know.

But right now his attention wasn’t on the tea at all. Ziqing brought the freshly brewed pot over, fragrant steam curling up and drifting between the two of them.

“Here. It’s my first time brewing it—try it and tell me what you think.” Ziqing smiled, a little bashfully, offering it with both hands.

Jun Beiyue took it, gestured for her to sit, and without even glancing at the tea, took several sips before saying, “Talk. Why.”

She surely had a reason. He hadn’t noticed it earlier in his anger, but he wasn’t foolish enough to miss it now.

Ziqing, however, dodged the question, glancing instead at the half-empty cup in his hand. “This is the first time I’ve brewed tea for you, and you’re not even going to properly taste it?”

The first time she’d made soup for him, the timing had been off, and he hadn’t even looked at it before sending it off to Imperial Physician Gu. This time, the timing was right, and yet he hadn’t even glanced at it—just drank it down, so carelessly.

Ziqing sighed inwardly. What a fool.

Hearing this, Jun Beiyue paused, brows suddenly knitting as he looked down at the tea. But by then, it was already too late.

Poisoning tea was one of the easiest things to detect—anyone with even a little knowledge of poisons could tell from the very first sip.

And yet he hadn’t noticed at all. This woman had taken advantage of his softheartedness.

“Han Ziqing, you—”

Before he could finish, the teacup in his hand shattered with a crash, and his vision went black as he collapsed, unconscious. Ziqing looked at him, a bitter look crossing her face, her small hand gently stroking his cheek, her fingertip tracing the sharp line of his jaw, coming to rest on his cool, thin lips.

She couldn’t help a helpless laugh. “You’re the real fool!”

He always called her a fool, never realizing he was far more foolish than she was.

She pressed her index finger lightly to his lips, gazing at his peaceful face, an indescribable feeling welling up in her heart. She loved—loved so much—the sight of him quiet like this.

“You haven’t slept all night. You need to rest,” she murmured softly. With that, she turned to leave, but at the door she turned back, gritted her teeth, and suddenly leaned in to steal a kiss from his lips before opening the door.

What was she planning to do?

The people outside had just heard the crash of the shattering teacup and had their hearts in their throats, certain the two of them had come to blows. When they saw Ziqing open the door unharmed—

Imperial Physician Gu’s first reaction was alarm. “Your Highness, is His Highness—”

There were only two paths left: either stay away from that man forever, or stop being so stubborn with him this time.

Ziqing knew that if she kept refusing, he would eventually give up—but that would hurt him. He was doing this for her sake; she understood that better than anyone.

Staying away from him wasn’t possible. So—she would be bold. She would cure it.

She finally looked the poison master and the others squarely in the eye and said flatly, “The three of you, come in.”

Imperial Physician Gu was puzzled. The moment they stepped inside, Ziqing was about to close the door when Hongyi rushed forward. “My lady, let me stay with you!”

Hongyi didn’t know what was happening, but seeing the poison master’s more than a hundred silver needles laid out, every hair on her body stood on end. She couldn’t even imagine how terrifying the process of curing the poison would be.

“Guard the door. No one is to come in, understand?” Ziqing said seriously.

“My lady!” Hongyi begged again. A complicated look flickered through Shiliang’s eyes as she stood, arms folded behind her back, silent, beside Guxi on the other side of the door.

Ziqing ignored Hongyi entirely and shut the door with a sharp “bang.” Hongyi stamped her foot in frustration, looking from Guxi to Shiliang, annoyed. “Are you two mute? Why didn’t either of you beg with me!”

But neither answered, faces solemn, backs ramrod straight. Shiliang hadn’t come back with Jun Beiyue—she’d only just returned, dark circles under her eyes, utterly exhausted.

“Shiliang, you were the one who went with the prince to fetch that poison master, right? Is that person even reliable?” Hongyi asked again, worried.

“Don’t worry. Anyone His Highness hires won’t make a mistake,” Shiliang finally answered flatly.

“But over a hundred silver needles—how exactly is that supposed to cure poison!” Hongyi pressed.

“Sister, a hundred-odd needles are nothing to our lady. Don’t worry so much,” Shiliang said flatly, her nature naturally cold and detached—not unlike Ziqing’s, in some ways.

But Ziqing was their mistress, and Shiliang only a servant, which didn’t sit right with Hongyi. “It’s easy to talk when it’s not your back that’s taking the needles!”

“Sister, a servant’s duty is to obey. We have no right to question,” Shiliang said again.

“You! Don’t give me that soldier talk of yours. After everything our lady’s done for you all, can’t you even see how scared she is? If she weren’t scared, would she be fighting with the prince like this?” Hongyi’s eyes reddened as she spoke, and without waiting for a response, she sat off to the side to wipe away her tears.

Just then, a miserable scream suddenly tore through the door.

Hongyi scrambled up, pressing herself against the door but not daring to knock, her heart burning with worry—what on earth was happening in there?

“Ahh—” Another cry came, as if it had been suppressed for so long it could no longer be held back, as wretched as a sound rising from the depths of hell.

Even the expressionless Guxi couldn’t help but frown, while Shiliang lowered her eyes, her face betraying little emotion.