“Hua Qiong?” She frowned, repeating the name. “Is she my friend?”

Jin Siyu stared at her expression—clear bewilderment and questioning. Her demeanor and tone were so genuinely natural that no one could find anything unnatural about them.

He suddenly felt a chill in his heart. If this woman truly had lost her memory, that would be one thing. But if she hadn’t, then this ability to maintain composure when suddenly confronted—this skill at deception—would be truly terrifying.

“I don’t know whether she’s your friend or not,” he said. “This is a suspect who was captured along with you. She very much wants to see you.”

“If you want me to see her, I’ll see her.” She struggled to sit up, displaying a very cooperative manner.

Jin Siyu personally went to help her. She showed no courtesy whatsoever, leaning softly against him as maids attended to her, helping her put on shoes.

Jin Siyu had originally only intended to help her up, not expecting her to lean against him so boneless and pliant. Now wanting to withdraw was no longer possible. His hand gripped her arm, and even through the autumn undergarment he seemed to sense that delicate texture. A faint, cool fragrance with a bone-penetrating quality wafted toward him—when he tried to smell it more carefully, it proved elusive. It reminded him of autumn butterflies flitting across late summer lotus leaves. Her face half-leaned against his shoulder, her slender lashes casting gentle, graceful shadows beneath her eyes.

His heart felt somewhat dazed. He thought that stripped of her battle robes, she could actually be this delicate and soft. Could it be that the military camp had merely forced her to be hard and strong, while this person before him was the real her?

“Your Highness, hold me properly and don’t be absent-minded,” she mumbled in admonishment, very naturally placing her bear-paw-like hand on his shoulder. For an instant, Jin Siyu felt like a palace eunuch.

Glancing sideways at that aesthetically displeasing claw-like hand, he very much wanted to brush it off forcefully. But somehow, seeing the faint bloodstains between the white bandages, he didn’t brush it away.

The two of them proceeded out the door together, followed by layers of guards. Every few steps, she had to stop and catch her breath. When encountering doorways, she needed support. When encountering corridors with railings, she had to sit and rest. When encountering pavilions—she absolutely had to go blow in the breeze.

Jin Siyu looked at the sky—at this turtle-like crawling pace, it would be dark by the time she made it there, and his entire day would be consumed by her.

“Your Highness, there’s a lotus pond over there…” She wanted to crawl over again.

Unable to bear it any longer, Jin Siyu suddenly extended his arm beneath the crook of her knees and lifted her horizontally into his arms.

The guards immediately retreated, lowering their eyes and bowing their heads. But she didn’t cry out in surprise. She squinted at him for a long moment, then very naturally rested her head on his shoulder and actually let out a satisfied sigh.

The meaning seemed to be: Finally you’re willing to carry me—I was exhausted from walking.

Jin Siyu suddenly felt somewhat annoyed—was this woman naturally fickle? Unconcerned about being held by just any man?

Just as he was about to lose his temper and throw her into the lotus pond, he heard her say softly against his chest, “I don’t want to go to the red tent.”

Jin Siyu paused, looking down at her. She pressed her lips together, not looking at him, playing with the golden buttons on his collar. Only then did Jin Siyu notice that while she appeared quite calm about being held by him, her body was somewhat stiff, and she was trying hard to keep her chest away from him.

His mood suddenly improved somewhat, though his face remained impassive as he said coolly, “So you’re trying to seduce me?”

“Hm?” She raised her head, her face showing some surprise and embarrassment. Her face quickly flushed red, then she gave a sly laugh. “More or less.”

Jin Siyu’s hand trembled, nearly dropping her. He quickly turned his head away to prevent her from seeing the smile he couldn’t suppress at the corners of his lips.

This woman… was truly quite interesting.

“The matter of the red tent—we’ll discuss it later.” He quickly resumed his normal demeanor, carrying her with light steps as he turned through several courtyards, gradually walking toward more remote areas, descending lower and lower.

In the back garden, a pair of stone lions guarded an entrance. Jin Siyu twisted the head of the left lion, and the ground silently split open, revealing a dark underground entrance.

Jin Siyu carried her inside while the guards remained outside. This was a gloomy iron prison with only one skylight. The light filtering through was hazy and strange—looking carefully, one could see that the skylight wasn’t open to air but appeared to be the bottom of a pond. All four walls were iron—no wonder guards weren’t needed. Once someone entered, there was simply no way out.

“It’s still better to be pretty,” she observed while looking around. “See, even the treatment is different.”

Jin Siyu glared at her—could there actually be such a thick-skinned woman in this world!

Their footsteps echoed hollowly as they stopped before a black cell deep underground.

“See her one last time,” Jin Siyu said coldly. “Soon she’ll be loaded onto a prison cart and sent to Pucheng Prison. Tomorrow she’ll be executed.”

She remained silent, looking into the black cell. Torture instruments hung everywhere inside—even more than in her own dark cell. They were stained with blood and stuck with flesh. The blood and flesh were clearly fresh; these instruments had been drinking deep of the prisoner’s blood just moments ago.

On the rotting straw in the cell lay a black-clothed woman covered in wounds. Her clothes had become fragments, between which showed blue, purple, and scarlet skin. At her waist was a patch of complete scarlet raw flesh that pulsed slightly, revealing blue veins but not an inch of skin—the skin there seemed to have been flayed off entirely.

Below the waist, between the tattered remnants of her skirt, red and white sticky fluids were faintly visible, proclaiming that she had also suffered the most inhumane torture that female prisoners often endured.

She writhed in the straw, her face so covered in blood that her features were unrecognizable. Even her once-bright eyes had grown dim and lusterless.

The thick stench of blood assaulted them. The scene was unbearable to witness.

Jin Siyu heard her emit a low sigh.

His heart tightened.

Then he heard her say, “What crime did she commit that you would treat a woman this way?”

Her tone was very dissatisfied, but her attitude was that of a stranger—like any kind woman’s reaction upon seeing an unknown person suffering.

No pretense of indifference, nor any pain that couldn’t be hidden at seeing a life-and-death comrade in distress.

He was momentarily stunned again, then said coolly, “You don’t know?”

“If I knew, would I need to ask you?” She glared at him irritably.

“You broke into this prince’s residence with a blade, your intentions unclear. This prince struck you unconscious and captured you.” Jin Siyu said coldly, “To rescue you, she actually broke into the residence and nearly killed this prince. That is a capital offense.”

He turned his head sideways to observe her expression. Her brows knitted together in bewilderment and confusion, with no intention of refuting.

“If it were any other matter, seeking clues and truth, I might still consider sparing her life—she might have value in staying alive.” He gazed at the inhuman figure with narrowed eyes, sighing. “But now… since you don’t remember, the grave crime of assassinating this prince falls on her alone… death is certain.”

He spoke casually with feigned regret, his tone light, though the corner of his eye watched her closely. She remained silent, seemingly deep in thought, but still showed no intention of speaking.

“Think carefully—might there be some hidden circumstances?” Jin Siyu coaxed earnestly. “What could you women accomplish? Surely someone directed you from behind. Don’t let yourself be sold out without even knowing it, dying without a proper burial.”

“I think so too.” She finally spoke. “Look at me—no martial skills, no physical strength. Would I go crazy and come to your iron-fortress prince’s residence to assassinate you? Haven’t you wrongly accused me? Haven’t you mistaken me for someone else? Since you’ve wrongly accused me, who’s to say this person wasn’t also wrongly accused? Isn’t that reasonable?”

“Wrongly accused you?” Jin Siyu said. “Currently the evidence is conclusive. If you want to overturn it, you need to provide the full story. Otherwise… someone is going to die.”

“I can’t remember…” She crouched down in pain, clutching her head. “…I can’t remember…”

Jin Siyu watched her, his eyes flickering.

The disheveled woman in the cell seemed startled awake by their conversation. She slowly raised her head, and seeing her, her eyes brightened. She suddenly lunged forward.

She struggled as if trying to say something, opening her mouth with “ah, ah” sounds, but her tongue seemed to have been burned—she couldn’t form complete sentences. She desperately thrust her hand through the iron bars, reaching for the crouching woman’s hand.

Heavy chains dragged across the ground with a heart-stopping clamor, leaving thick, sticky trails of blood on the floor.

In the dim lamplight from the distant entrance, the woman’s face became visible—vaguely that delicate, slightly dark face with thick, sharp brows.

She cried out in pain as Hua Qiong suddenly grabbed her hand and retreated, seeming to want to break free but reluctant to use force on her injured hand. The severe pain brought tears to her eyes.

Only then did Hua Qiong realize her hand was injured. She quickly switched to gripping her wrist instead, immediately leaving bloody marks all over the pale wrist.

“Hua Qiong!” Jin Siyu stood to the side, calling out coldly. “Do you see clearly who’s before you? Confess honestly and you still have a chance at life!”

Hua Qiong spat a mouthful of bloody saliva viciously onto the ground, completely ignoring him. She only gripped her hand, tears falling.

Crystal teardrops slowly rolled down her face, mixing with the dripping blood, gradually turning pale pink, dripping onto her hand.

She lowered her head to look, her expression filled with unbearable pity.

Hua Qiong seemed to want to say something to her but could never get the words out. She only tightly clutched her wrist, her eyes flashing with hope and bitter resentment. She made futile “ah, ah” sounds with her ruined mouth, the shredded bloody flesh constantly writhing—a sight that made one’s heart clench.

She suddenly turned her head to look at Jin Siyu.

Jin Siyu stared at her, his eyes narrowed to pinpoints.

“I can’t bear it…” she murmured. “What great crime warrants this kind of torture? Too pitiful… even if I don’t remember anything, you said she came here for me, so I’m going to plead for mercy—give her a quick death. This half-human, half-ghost state—it’s unbearable to witness…”

“There’s something even more unbearable,” Jin Siyu said coolly. “Tomorrow she’s scheduled for death by a thousand cuts.”

She froze in place, turned back to look at Hua Qiong, and said in confusion, “Then why haven’t I…”

“You only brought a blade into the prince’s residence but didn’t actually do anything.” Jin Siyu said. “She, however, believing I had killed you, actually infiltrated to my side and nearly killed me, so…” He smiled with mocking malice. “She’s essentially dying for you.”

She trembled. Behind her, Hua Qiong cried out with “ah, ah” sounds full of anger and unwillingness, yet still tightly gripped her wrist, her eyes earnest. Though unable to speak, one could still read the encouragement and entrustment in them.

In the lonely cell, lit by a flickering, dying lamp, with blood and flesh everywhere, two women knelt opposite each other across the bars, facing the most tragic separation of life and death.

Desolate and sorrowful, a heavy atmosphere pressed down, nearly suffocating.

Hua Qiong’s tears fell like broken beads onto her hand, yet she struggled to show her a comforting, fearless smile.

That smile flickered in the lamplight with an almost radiant brilliance.

Such a strong woman, such a tragic ordeal, such an unacceptable ending…

She trembled.

Jin Siyu immediately stepped forward, supporting her, saying gently, “…What do you want to say?”

But touching her, he felt her body was incredibly soft. Alarmed, he quickly looked down—her face was deathly pale, her forehead covered in cold sweat. She had fainted.

Jin Siyu stood there stunned, looking between Hua Qiong and her, his mind in complete chaos—uncertain whether he felt disappointment, relief, doubt, or something else entirely.

However, his hand resting on her pulse detected chaotic, turbulent flow beneath his fingers—her meridians were in reverse, all those various hidden injuries tangled within her body. Her fainting was entirely reasonable; that she had lasted this long was already a miracle.

Though… the timing of this fainting was truly convenient…

With a bitter smile, Jin Siyu lifted her again, feeling her cold sweat soaking through her clothes. A faint compassion stirred in his heart.

Behind him, Hua Qiong seemed about to speak. He waved his sleeve in a “silence” gesture.

In the pitch darkness and quiet, he carried her out. The iron door fell shut behind them. Guards approached, bowing to receive orders. He said, “This is an important prisoner. Be careful of jailbreak attempts during the public parade. Don’t take her out during daylight. Tonight at the second watch, load her into the prison cart and send her to the Pucheng magistrate’s prison.”

The guard received his orders and left. He carried her back to that secluded quiet chamber. She remained unconscious, her brows slightly furrowed.

Jin Siyu ordered maids to brew medicine. He sat at her side the entire time. She woke once, drowsily drank the medicine, then fell back into heavy sleep. She didn’t sleep peacefully—her eyelids fluttered slightly, indicating she was immersed in unpleasant dreams.

Jin Siyu suddenly stood and pulled down the heavy curtains, blocking out the last bit of light from outside.

Then he sat beside her, extending his finger to gently stroke across her brow. She seemed to find it comfortable, softly murmuring “mm.”

He smiled and suddenly asked gently, “Who are you?”

She hummed, her lips murmuring unintelligibly. He couldn’t make out what she was saying. He leaned his head closer to listen, but it was still just vague syllables. He had to give up in disappointment and rise.

As he leaned forward, her lips brushed against his temple.

As if encountering a heart-stopping softness—the faint fragrance from her lips and breath spreading out. In the deep winter of the northern lands, flowers suddenly bloomed in profusion, more gorgeous than spring blossoms.

He froze in place, fixed for a moment in a somewhat awkward position. After quite a while, he slowly straightened up.

That bone-penetrating softness seemed to linger at his temple, carrying an enticing moisture. It slowly dried on that patch of skin, making it feel somewhat taut—like some emotion at this moment that he was unwilling to let others know.

However, he then lowered his gaze coolly, sat up straight, and looked at her humming and murmuring form.

She seemed to dream of something amusing and showed a rare smile. When she smiled, it began at her lips and rippled like waves to the corners of her eyes. Her entire face became vivid and bright, clear and brilliant as a jewel beneath water.

If her eyes were open, how would such a smile captivate all living beings?

Someone once said that when smiling, one’s defenses are most relaxed.

Sinking into the darkness, he asked softly, “…Who are you dreaming of?”

She made an “mm” sound, suddenly turned over, and reached out to embrace his arm braced against the bed. She seemed to find it very comfortable, nuzzling against it, pressing her face there, and didn’t move again.

Jin Siyu watched with amusement and exasperation as she shamelessly latched on. She seemed to lack a sense of security and liked to clutch onto something while sleeping.

He tried to withdraw his hand, but she only gripped tighter, causing him not only to be unable to move but also unable to turn his head to speak from his awkward position.

Jin Siyu could easily have kicked her off or flung her away as he had yesterday, without any courtesy. But somehow, he didn’t.

He suddenly felt a bit tired. Dealing with this woman seemed to be an exhausting affair—heaven knew what she might do next. He gave a shallow yawn and, following the momentum, also lay down on her wide bed.

He pulled over half her quilt and truly fell asleep.

Both were very quiet. Inside the room, the incense smoke spread faintly with a somewhat special scent. Smelling it for long made one increasingly drowsy and unclear-headed.

The last trace of dim light beyond the curtains vanished completely. Night had fully descended. This sleep actually lasted two hours. With the distant bell for dinner, both of them woke.

Just awakening from deep sleep, consciousness at its most muddled moment.

She turned her body slightly, still engaged in intimate entanglement with the quilt, humming and moaning. He opened his eyes but didn’t move, his gaze clear and bright.

In the faint distant lamplight and curling smoke, he suddenly spoke, calling out:

“Wei Zhi.”

“…”

After a moment of silence, she turned her head to look at him, saying in astonishment, “Who are you calling?”

He sat up, looking into her eyes—those particularly misty autumn-water eyes, always veiled in fog, making it difficult to glimpse any turmoil within.

These eyes were truly heaven-blessed—you could never read from such eyes what you wanted to know.

He could only see genuine bewilderment in her expression.

“Nothing.” He paused quietly, lowering his head to straighten his collar. “I thought of my enemy.”

“Oh?” She lazily turned her head to look at him, appearing not particularly interested.

“This person killed tens of thousands of my Great Yue brothers and destroyed all the achievements I established galloping across the northern frontier.” Jin Siyu’s smile was warm as jade, though a cold light flickered in his eyes. “If I cannot flay and dismember him, burn his corpse and scatter the ashes, how can I face my brothers who died on the battlefield?”

She listened, lazily yawning, and said perfunctorily, “Right, right. He who does not avenge is no gentleman. You must catch him and torture him severely. Or you could castrate him—that’s the cruelest punishment for a man.”

“That would only work if it were a man.” He gazed at her, his smile gentle.

“It’s not a man?” She finally showed some curiosity. “A female general?”

“Who knows?” He stood up and pulled open the curtains. Maids streamed in like flowing water, arranging small tables on the bed and setting out food.

The food was abundant but didn’t look particularly refined. Large bright red plates held red and white ground meat that didn’t seem fully cooked, showing traces of blood—reminiscent of everything seen in the underground dungeon.

Jin Siyu smiled as he arranged her bowl and chopsticks. “This is our Great Yue’s famous ‘Snow Jade Meat Broth.’ Don’t let its appearance fool you—the heat is actually perfect. It contains large amounts of egg white, steamed in a basket. It’s extremely tender. You mustn’t miss it.”

She sat on the bed, staring blankly at the dish. A maid knelt on the bed, ladled a bowl, and served her food.

She resolutely turned her head away.

“I can’t eat it.”

“Why not?” Jin Siyu sat cross-legged opposite her, leisurely taking a bite, looking genuinely puzzled as he asked.

She pressed her lips together without speaking.

“Wasting food is shameful.” His face darkened. He set down his own bowl, scooped up a spoonful, and shoved it toward her mouth. “If you don’t eat this, you’ll go down and eat prison food!”

She struggled desperately to dodge, but in her weakened state how could she withstand his strength? Her mouth was force-fed, and before she could chew, she spat it out with a “wah,” spraying red spots all over the brocade bedding.

Jin Siyu set down the bowl and chopsticks heavily. The porcelain base struck the black sandalwood table with a crisp sound.

“I can’t eat it.” She didn’t look at his expression, gasping as she said, “Seeing this just makes me think of… Hua Qiong.”

Jin Siyu’s eyes narrowed to slits. “At least you’re honest about it.”

“You said she’s dying for me.” Tears welled in her eyes but stubbornly refused to fall. “I’m eating well and sleeping well here while she’s going to be executed by a thousand cuts. If I could eat, would I even be human?”

“Then hurry up and remember.” Jin Siyu said. “Why won’t you?”

“I won’t!” She suddenly overturned the food table. “If I could remember, would I need to suffer like this? Whatever the truth is, it is what it is—at worst, just tie me up and drag me to the execution ground for slicing! Why would I stay here being endlessly tested by you and having to eat this brain-like disgusting thing?”

With a clatter, the “brains” along with bowls, chopsticks, and soup spilled all over the bed and splattered on his robes. The maids were so shocked they forgot to react, standing there like wooden posts.

Jin Siyu also froze opposite her, staring dumbfounded. He thought, so she can lose her temper after all. And when she does lose her temper, she’s truly as fierce as a tigress.

Looking at his disheveled state, his robes covered in red and white meat chunks, recalling her description, he somehow suddenly felt nauseated and nearly vomited. Immediately furious, he turned to the maids and shouted, “Why aren’t you cleaning this up!”

The maids all trembled in fright, shakily coming forward with tears in their eyes to clean up, feeling rather wronged—someone else overturned the table, and that person was even a prisoner, so why were they the ones being scolded?

Prince An had always been gentle and refined, a gentleman admired by all. Even toward servants, he rarely spoke harshly. Yet today he’d lost his temper several times. The maids all felt that since encountering this prisoner, His Highness had been somewhat abnormal.

After changing to clean bedding and tidying the table, Jin Siyu also changed his clothes and coldly ordered, “Bring new dishes.”

“I won’t eat.” After a pause, these words escaped her lips.

Jin Siyu looked at her with a sinister gaze, then suddenly sneered coldly, “You can’t bear to see her die—why not exchange your life for hers?”

She paused, murmuring, “Exchange lives?”

“Use your own life to exchange for hers.” Jin Siyu said coolly. “Stop pretending to be so pure and noble. Since you know she’s dying for you, all you’ve done is fuss about not eating meat broth. Have you ever said a single word about dying in her place? Your so-called life-and-death bond—nothing more than this.”

His tone was vicious, his face mocking, waiting for her to explode again. But she made no move, silently contemplating, her expression gloomy. After a long while, she sighed softly. “…I want to live.”

The cold smile on Jin Siyu’s face intensified.

“However.” She suddenly looked up with a smile, still that somewhat casual smile, not sharp or aggressive. Yet somehow seeing it made his heart tremble. “I think you ultimately won’t let me go, so…”

She climbed down from the bed, not even putting on shoes, walking toward the door without looking back. “Farewell, forever.”

“What are you doing!” Jin Siyu watched her crooked, unsteady gait as she grabbed this and touched that for support, feeling his anger rising like flames in the brazier, impossible to suppress.

“Going to eat prison food.” She walked crookedly, answered lightly.

Before reaching the door, the light behind her dimmed. Her waist tightened. Before she could struggle, he had grabbed her by the waist and tossed her back onto the bed.

A breath caught in her throat and she began coughing, her chest heaving, her breathing fragmented. A faint blush appeared on her somewhat pale cheeks. Combined with her autumn-water eyes full of flowing ripples, she looked as weak as a wisp of graceful cloud.

Jin Siyu paused again.

He leaned over her, originally intending to coldly lecture this woman whose exterior was delicate but whose heart was firm, then let her go. But unexpectedly, when his gaze fell this way, it happened to encounter her refined features. Beneath her misty eyes, her lips and cheeks had both flushed from the exertion. Below was a stretch of snow-white, slender neck. Her collar had come loose, revealing an exquisite, delicate collarbone. And further down…

Jin Siyu somewhat flustered withdrew his gaze, suddenly realizing his hand was still gripping her waist. The touch was warm and soft, a narrow handful, slender yet with the unique resilience of a woman who practiced martial arts. It gave one an impulse to try breaking it, or to see what angles such softness could be bent into beneath oneself.

Once this thought arose, his mind grew hazy. His breathing quickened. The maids all around were very perceptive and silently filed out like fish. The last one carefully closed the door.

As the door closed, they exchanged glances and pursed their lips—female prisoners of war from Great Yue mostly met this fate. Seeing Prince An moved by desire, after this night of favor, this woman would probably preserve her life.

The sound of the door closing startled Jin Siyu from his dazed state. He smiled lightly, released her waist, and instead took a silk handkerchief to wipe clean the dust and dirt on her feet from walking barefoot on the ground.

Her slender ankle held in his palm was also delicate as bamboo. Her toenails weren’t dyed deep or pale red with garden balsam as Great Yue women customarily did, but were clean and white as pearl shells. His movements unconsciously became lighter, carrying a tenderness he himself hadn’t noticed. She remained motionless, allowing him to attend to her.

After wiping her feet clean, he tossed aside the handkerchief and leaned forward over her. She still didn’t move.

Was this tacit permission, or invitation?

Jin Siyu smiled and reached out to untie her sash. In the past, he had occasionally enjoyed female prisoners of war captured from Tiansheng. His subordinates selected those with good looks and pleasant temperaments to send to him—it was merely sampling something different, changing tastes. But never before had he felt this lingering, tender sentiment.

Because of this vague sense of pleasant intimacy, the corners of his lips held a gentle, warm smile. With a puff, he extinguished the lamp. The pale yellow glow withdrew. Moonlight poured down ethereally. Half her body was in the bedding, half in the moonlight, as soft and light as a feather.

Her sash came undone, her collar opened, revealing skin paler than moonlight, more lustrous than pearls and jade.

She remained silent throughout, her elbow pressed over her eyes. Jin Siyu knew she had no strength to struggle, but in his heart he believed she actually didn’t want to struggle.

Women who disguised themselves as men to join the army mostly had drifting backgrounds and bitter loneliness. Such people rarely could preserve their chastity intact. If this kind of pleasure between men and women could exchange for freedom and life, it was ultimately worthwhile.

His finger lightly touched that patch of pale skin.

She trembled.

He suddenly trembled too.

As if struck by a thunderbolt, his finger actually froze in mid-air.

Cold moonlight streamed through the hall and into the room.

Illuminating Jin Siyu, his face in that instant paler than the moonlight.

Illuminating his half-raised hand, staring fixedly at that patch of skin at her waist. Right where he had just touched, dense, fine goosebumps had appeared, arrayed on her lustrous skin, starkly eye-catching!

Revulsion!

Only when a woman felt extreme inner revulsion would her body produce this reaction!

She was revolted by his touch!

For a moment, Jin Siyu’s mind actually went somewhat blank—his entire life born of noble blood in golden halls, refined and elegant in appearance and graceful in manner, wherever he went women offered their favors, walking through streets he was cheered by crowds. He had experienced treacherous deceit and the fickleness of human hearts, experienced scheming and deception and the inconstancy of worldly affairs, but truly had never before experienced this moment… revulsion.

Revulsion arising from a woman’s heart that she couldn’t control.

Jin Siyu’s hand hung suspended in mid-air, facing that patch of skin covered in fine goosebumps. He suddenly felt like some third-rate thief who waylaid women on roadsides, dragged them into the woods, and used brute force to overpower them.

Rage blazed up. The pride of a golden, jade-born prince made it impossible for him to continue what he intended to do.

His finger trembled. The quilt rolled over, covering her disheveled collar. Without a word, he stood and strode out.

The door closed with a heavy bang that seemed to shake all four walls.

Quiet returned on all sides. After a long while, she opened her eyes and smiled, somewhat wearily.

Then she pursed her lips and with difficulty, using her bandaged bear-paw-like hands, felt around behind her waist.

A small ant—she managed to extract it.

Gazing at this ant with the expression of a benefactor—the one she’d secretly grabbed when she got out of bed earlier—her expression was half-smiling, half-not. After a long moment, she said softly, “Thank you for crawling and crawling, defending my chastity. Otherwise, these goosebumps really aren’t easy to make appear on command.”

Moonlight shone into her eyes, a cold, contemptuous look flashing within.

Then she gently blew, sending the ant falling to the ground, as if blowing away this mortal world’s infinite ashes of tribulation.

Night reached the second watch. Faint sounds of wheels and horses could be heard.

According to Prince An’s orders, tonight the condemned prisoner would be loaded onto a cart and sent to Pucheng magistrate’s prison.

All around was very quiet, showing no signs of tight security. There was no need—the prisoner had already been tortured to near death and barely conscious. Even if you released her from the cell, she likely wouldn’t have the strength to crawl three steps.

The quiet chamber where “Miss Wang Shaoyao” stayed was also very quiet. The special prisoner was seriously ill. Coming and going were either doctors or maids. The guards watching the door leaned lazily against the doorway, chatting in low voices.

Though calm and relaxed, the air seemed to hold a hidden tension, taut in the dark night.

The second watch drum sounded twice.

She suddenly opened her eyes in the quiet chamber bed.

First turning her head to look below the bed—the maid was sleeping deeply on the footrest. She slowly lifted the quilt and slowly got out of bed.

Her landing was soundless. The maid didn’t wake.

Like a wisp of wandering spirit, she left the room. The guards at the door sat in the corridor holding long spears, their heads nodding. She passed right by them without their noticing.

At the end of the corridor, a squad of guards was just changing shifts, passing each other.

She calmly drifted past the corridor. Coincidentally, tonight the maids had changed her into a black inner garment, making her completely inconspicuous.

Turning past the gallery was a courtyard. There were no guards in the courtyard, but there were at the moon gate.

The guards at the moon gate hid in a dark corner, heads together looking at erotic pictures, constantly snickering. How could they spare a glance upward?

She drifted past behind them, turning around from behind a cluster of flowering trees.

Several guards seemed completely unaware, yet suddenly raised their heads and looked at each other.

A black shadow silently appeared behind them. The guards quickly discarded the pictures and stood respectfully with lowered hands.

“She went out?” the newcomer asked in a deep voice.

The guards nodded.

In the moonlight, that person’s expression was solemn, his eyes flickering with complex meaning. It was Jin Siyu.

He remained silent for a long moment, then waved his hand. The guards departed. The erotic pictures lay on the ground, no one picking them up.

“Your Highness, should we…” someone behind him asked in a low voice.

Jin Siyu said coolly, “I’ll follow myself. You take people and wait.”

The person behind received the order and left. Jin Siyu stood dazed for another while before drifting out.

He followed the slender shadow ahead, watching her pass through halls, cross courtyards, traverse the garden, cross small bridges… Gradually he felt something was wrong.

This route—it didn’t seem to lead toward that dungeon?

His brow furrowed. Jin Siyu discovered with astonishment that she was swaying and drifting toward a small pond in the back garden.

What was she going there for?

Having assumed she would go to the dungeon, his heart full of complex emotions as he waited to catch her red-handed, Jin Siyu stood stunned behind her, watching her stumble through dew-laden grass, step across white stone pavement, swaying and tottering straight toward the pond’s edge.

The pond had been artificially excavated. Originally the owner had pretentiously raised cranes by the pond. Later the cranes died and the pond was left empty. The water quality was clear, glistening in the moonlight.

She walked to the pond’s edge and without stopping, lifted her foot to step toward the pond—

Jin Siyu suddenly shot forward.

His form was like lightning, his lunging posture graceful as a crane. In an instant, he rushed behind her, grabbing at the back of her garment.

But ultimately he was a step too late. With a splash, water sprayed up.

She fell in, and he couldn’t avoid the same fate. Having lunged too urgently, unable to stop his momentum, he also plunged headfirst into the water.

The water wasn’t deep, just bone-chillingly cold in winter. As soon as he fell in, he frantically grabbed for her. The person beside him wasn’t struggling as if drowning—he grabbed her in one try. Pulling her over to look, her face was deathly pale, her eyes actually closed.

Closed?

Sleepwalking?

Jin Siyu stood dazed, dripping wet and shivering, then heard the person in his arms murmur, “Bathing…”

She had emerged in the middle of the night like a ghost, all because she was dreaming about taking a bath?

He’d followed her all this way just to accompany her in this freezing winter ice-lake cold water bath?

Jin Siyu was so angry he forgot to climb out, snorting furiously while still in the water. At this moment, torches gradually lit up. Guards came running. The leader, who had been sent to arrange an ambush according to his orders, now seeing this scene, stood stunned before quickly removing his own cloak to offer.

Jin Siyu held her and waded through the water to shore, looking down to see her clothes completely soaked. The single garment clung to her slender body, curves graceful, with a kind of burgeoning yet green sensuality. Glancing around, he saw the guards’ expressions were unnatural. He quickly pulled down the cloak from his shoulders and wrapped her tightly, then ordered repeatedly, “Summon a physician immediately. Send three more braziers to Cuixue Studio. Brew ginger soup. Quickly!”

Raising his hand to touch her forehead, it was indeed burning hot. His heart grew vaguely anxious. Though soft jade and warm fragrance filled his arms, he had no improper thoughts. He quickly walked back to Cuixue Studio, ordering maids to hurry and change her clothes. For a time, vaguely anxious and worried, he paced back and forth in the hall, until a maid timidly reminded him that he thought to change out of his own wet clothes.

When he returned after changing, the physician had arrived. After merely taking her pulse, he exclaimed “Ah!” and said, “How did this young lady’s condition suddenly become several degrees more serious? This is troublesome now…”

Jin Siyu’s heart sank. Looking down, he saw the person on the bed burning with alarming heat—one could feel the temperature from three feet away. Then in a blink she would suddenly cool down, cold as ice, chilling and forbidding. Tormented between blazing heat and icy cold, one worried that in the next instant she might shatter from the unbearable suffering.

Her consciousness seemed unclear. Her hands futilely scratched at her chest, as if wanting to claw out the troublesome heart’s blood. Jin Siyu, afraid she’d injure her not-yet-healed hands, used his elbow to pin down her wrists. He heard her murmur even in unconsciousness, “Bathing…”

Jin Siyu thought this woman had been captured after bloody battle, stayed in dungeons, rolled on the ground, and due to severe illness and fear of catching cold, hadn’t bathed. Being naturally fastidious, even her dreams were consumed with it, causing her to wander out half-asleep searching for water. This had ended up making him take a cold bath too.

“Would a hot bath help?” Seeing her uncomfortable state, he thought for a moment and asked the physician.

The physician looked at Jin Siyu somewhat oddly, thinking His Highness’s question was truly foolish. Her life was nearly gone—what bath?

“Your Highness…” The old man stroked his beard and tactfully reminded, “In her condition, I’m afraid before long, she’ll need complete purification…”

By Great Yue custom, the dead were given a thorough cleansing before being placed in coffins. Jin Siyu paused before understanding, asking incredulously in anger, “What do you mean?”

The physician dared not speak further. He didn’t write a prescription either, but humbly bowed and said, “Perhaps Your Highness should try summoning an imperial physician from the palace…”

Jin Siyu remained silent. Imperial physicians never left the capital. This place was extremely far from the capital. Even if an imperial physician set out, he likely wouldn’t arrive in time.

The physician before him was already the foremost renowned doctor in Great Yue’s northern lands. If he was helpless, no one else nearby could save her life.

“Your Highness, among the common people there are actually many hidden experts, and some have ancestral secret remedies that are miraculously effective.” The physician suggested. “Why not post a public notice seeking renowned physicians, or make private inquiries? There may still be a thread of hope.”

Jin Siyu sat silently, his refined features sunk in daylight and shadow, expression indiscernible. After a long while, he nodded.

The physician ultimately left some calming medicine. After it was brewed and she drank it, she quieted somewhat. Near dawn, she woke.

Seeing him, she smiled wearily, murmuring, “Did you… beat me up in the middle of the night? Why am I so exhausted?”

She still had the spirit to joke. Jin Siyu could only force the corners of his mouth up as well. Looking at her face, gaunt from one night’s ordeal, he was silent for a long moment before saying, “Through all ages, only death is difficult. But you seem to have no will to survive?”

She remained silent, her expression showing disagreement. After a long while she said, “…Are you willing not to kill me?”

Jin Siyu didn’t speak. He suddenly smiled. “People’s hearts are truly unfathomable. Some, facing death, struggle desperately to live. Others, with a chance to live, self-destructively seek death.”

She closed her eyes, looking too lazy to answer him.

Jin Siyu didn’t need her to answer. He clapped his hands. Guards carried in another person and settled them in the outer room. Jin Siyu said, “This is a friend of yours, near death. He doesn’t want to die and has been struggling to live. You’re both sick like this—I needn’t avoid anything. I’ll just place him in the outer room so you can see how others seek survival, perhaps mutually encouraging each other. Maybe you’ll recover.”

“My friend?” She opened her eyes, thought for a moment. “Hua Qiong?”

“His name is Klie.” Jin Siyu said matter-of-factly. “Knowing you were captured here, he pleaded at my gate for three days and nights. The gate guards set wolfhounds on him and tore open his throat. He’s been unconscious and unable to speak since. I don’t know if he’ll survive. I think this person has great loyalty and is without fault. I’m considering promoting him, but he has to have the life to enjoy such fortune.”

She listened, showing a weary smile. “Klie… is it? Then please save… him.”

“I also want to wake him to see what he wants to say.” Jin Siyu stood. “I’ve heard that at Three Tripod Mountain west of Pucheng, there’s a barefoot country doctor with ancestral secret remedies effective for many ailments. I’ve sent people to find this doctor to examine you both.”

“I think… you’re a good person.” She smiled, grasping his sleeve, saying softly, “How is it I can’t remember… why I would be your enemy?”

“You’ll have to ask yourself that.” Jin Siyu gently withdrew his sleeve, smiling as he tapped his own head. He gently tucked her quilt corners. “Sleep. That Klie outside has a torn throat and often makes strange sounds. Don’t be frightened.”

She nodded, appearing very calm. Her expression even held some compassion. He watched her for a while, then walked out with light steps.

She lay in the bedding, eyes open, listening to the footsteps gradually fade to silence.

From the outer room, Klie’s murky, strange breathing sounds drifted in.