The study originally had delicate porcelain beauty lamps lit, enveloping the interior in bright illumination.

As the door opened, a man of refined temperament carrying a woman as light as a feather entered with a smile.

His hands supported her back and the crook of her knees, his posture gentle. Her head rested against his chest, her long skirt trailing down. His cloak covered her. Her pose of looking up at him with a slight smile was like a flower nearly broken by the wind, held in the warm sunlight of his gaze.

Jin Siyu carried her all the way to the beauty couch before the bookshelf. First spreading out his cloak, he then placed her on the couch, took a brocade coverlet to place over her, and—seeming to fear her pillow wouldn’t be comfortable—adjusted the movable backrest of the beauty couch several times. She softly allowed him to arrange her, her eyes clear and casual.

Looking through the gap in the curtain behind the bookshelf, following Jin Siyu’s gaze, his eyes glimmered in the candlelight. His expression watching her was tender and focused.

If not for the three layers of guards and mechanisms inside and out, not for this endless heart-stopping testing, not for whatever prohibition someone had perhaps placed on her—they truly appeared a deeply affectionate couple.

By candlelight, Jin Siyu carefully arranged her hair, gathering the black tresses into a bundle and carefully drawing them from behind her back to hang down from the couch, lest they be crushed.

The beauty couch had always been placed before the bookshelf. Jin Siyu liked to read on the couch after taking books. Her long hair flowed like water, the ends trailing all the way to the floor.

He stood behind the bookshelf, between curtains, gazing at that long hair through gaps between books.

The hair was very beautiful—fine and smooth as flowing water. He looked at it somewhat dazedly, thinking that since their meeting he’d actually rarely seen her with loose hair in feminine appearance—she was always in male attire: servant, student, official robes, a young minister in light clothing and loose sash… Many faces, each a brilliantly talented distinguished youth, none the current her.

Soft and ethereal, blooming in another man’s embrace.

Wind leaked through the window crack, stirring the hair ends in dreamy motion. He recalled their first meeting when this hair dripped with water, clutched in her hand. She stood waist-deep in lake water, looking at him through misty vapor, hair raised soaking wet.

Then that hair had been lustrous and black—the finest black silk. Now though the hair remained long, the luster at the ends had grown somewhat dim. Long ill and injured, though she wore light makeup, these swaying strands still betrayed her weakness.

Several of the longest strands swayed gently, close enough that it seemed he need only extend his hand to catch them. Yet he remained still in the shadows—not just his fingers, even his breathing made no sound.

Picking unripe fruit would only damage the blossom on the branch.

“Shaoyao’er.” Jin Siyu sat behind the desk on the other side, softly calling to her. “I’ll handle today’s documents first. If you’re tired, rest awhile.”

Hearing this name, he felt a chill—Shaoyao, what imagination to come up with that.

“Mm.” Her answer was melodious, the tail sound slightly rising, light and obedient. “May I look at the books on the shelf?”

Behind the bookshelf, he raised his eyebrows—this woman had never used such a tone with him before. Either businesslike and serious, or falsely smiling with seeming closeness that was actually distant.

“As you wish.” Jin Siyu smiled and buried himself in the pile of documents.

She half-reclined, examining the books on the shelf. From his angle, he could see her face directly.

Seeing the scar on her forehead, seeing the bruised red between her brows, seeing her pallid complexion beneath the rouge and powder she didn’t like wearing—she was thin as paper. Even with the world’s most renowned doctor at her side providing long-term careful treatment, she still hadn’t recovered quickly.

To think she was this gravely ill inevitably gave him pause for thought. The poison in the military rations—Zongchen would surely have resolved it after arriving. But the bruised red between her brows showed she had other ailments. Presumably that poison had triggered her old illness. However, judging by Zongchen’s demeanor, he didn’t seem anxious, suggesting no mortal danger.

Though he’d wondered if Jin Siyu had given her some drug, with a descendant of the Xuanyuan family present, there was no need to worry about that.

Only in this condition, it would be very difficult to bring her out intact from this dragon’s pool and tiger’s den. No wonder Zongchen and Gu Nanyi, though right at her side, had remained quiet until now.

He leaned against the wall, his finger pressing on a protrusion beside the bookshelf, intently watching her movements.

She reached out to select a book from the shelf. Her sleeves were extremely long, concealing her fingers. That hand pointed along the rows on the bookshelf, then suddenly stopped at one position.

There stood a volume of the *Great Yue Compendium*, collecting classics, histories, philosophies, belles-lettres, astronomy and geography—a comprehensive Yue encyclopedia. Each volume was as thick as a palm’s width. That book was positioned right before his face. If that book were removed, though a curtain layer still remained, once light passed through, it would easily reveal the contours of his face.

Her finger stopped there without hesitation, slowly pulling it out.

He smiled silently and bitterly.

“You want that one?” Jin Siyu turned to see and said, “Too heavy. I’ll get it for you.” He started walking over.

“Oh my.” She looked up, her hand stopping. “You’ve reminded me—it really is too heavy. I’m afraid after taking it I couldn’t hold it. I’ll choose another.”

“Fine.” Jin Siyu walked away, took a *Poetry Selection* from the adjacent shelf, smiling. “You women—reading this cultivates temperament.”

She smiled, giving Jin Siyu a sidelong glance. “Are you implying I have no temperament?”

Jin Siyu smiled without speaking, his expression warm.

She didn’t press the question either. Lips pursed in a light smile, in the lamplight with windswept hair at her temples, her eyes brimmed with ripples.

As if young lovers flirting and teasing, gentle atmosphere flowing through the air.

He suddenly felt an ache deep in his heart.

She’d never smiled at him this way, never been this close to him—even if false, it seemed she never had.

Yet she’d already reclined leisurely, casually flipping through that *Poetry Selection*, constantly murmuring recitations, appearing quite absorbed. Watching, the corners of his lips curved slightly upward, thinking this woman was the world’s most noble natural actress—whatever she did, real or fake, was absolutely perfect. He remembered she’d clearly said before that poetry was mere technical trifles, that parsing words and phrases constrained one’s spirit, excessive indulgence only made one more pedantic, so ordinarily she didn’t read such things. Even when she did, it was to induce sleep.

Now reading with such delight.

Over there, Jin Siyu listened with great enjoyment, occasionally discussing a few lines with her. The two conversed with smiles and laughter, atmosphere harmonious. Suddenly Jin Siyu stopped his brush with an “eh?”

She set down the book, raised her eyes to look over, but didn’t voice any question.

Jin Siyu was about to speak when he suddenly looked up. “The wind’s rising outside.” Then they heard sudden gusting wind, swirling and pressing close. Great Yue’s northern border often had strong winds in winter. Jin Siyu immediately stood to close the windows.

Just reaching the window, the wind surged. With a puff, the lamp light suddenly extinguished.

Because of the strong wind, even the lanterns outside were blown to the ground. For a time, all around lost illumination. The entire study was immersed in pure, complete darkness.

“Such strong wind.” Jin Siyu knew she absolutely couldn’t be exposed to wind—fearing she’d catch cold, not having time to light lamps, he hurried first to close the windows but momentarily couldn’t find the window latches.

She remained quiet in the darkness.

Beside her, a familiar faint fragrance suddenly approached—gorgeous and cool. A hand seemed to emerge abruptly from the darkness, extremely accurately grasping her.

Gripping right on her injured hand, pressing the not-yet-healed joints. She winced in pain but didn’t cry out or speak.

That hand held hers, gently tugging toward the back of the bookshelf.

She didn’t move, her breathing calm in the darkness.

That hand, having failed with one tug, didn’t force further but the person seemed not to have left. Beside her, extremely subtle air currents swirled. That trace of breath approached.

She didn’t move, frowning, and pushed back with her other hand.

Pushing into empty space—he’d suddenly disappeared again. She paused, momentarily dazed, her hand suspended in midair, seeming to feel a brief confusion.

In that moment of confusion, her hand was grasped again.

This time gripped extremely lightly, like a leaf of grass falling among flowers, not alarming those delicate petals. Fingers quickly and softly noiselessly caressed upward, pausing particularly on her slightly deformed joints.

Then she felt coolness on her hand—something moist and warm pressed against it.

She was as if pierced by lightning, motionless.

In the darkness, Jin Siyu stood distantly by the window, fastening latches on each window. The study had a long row of windows. He closed them one by one. The constantly sounding closing and latching noises obscured any faint sounds.

In the darkness beside the beauty couch, warm moist lips touched her deformed fingers—this was wind bearing rain, clouds shedding tears, sweeping across from distant heavens in loneliness, leaving wet and warm traces wherever they passed.

She stared wide-eyed, appearing somewhat dazed. Unable to use martial power, her vision not as sharp as before, she vaguely seemed to see a blurred shadow half-kneeling before her couch.

She stared at that shadow. In her eyes, floating light shifted and changed like midnight tides, silently surging beneath the moon.

That rain-bearing wind swept across her fingers, then suddenly reached her lips.

Only when breath approached did she seem to startle awake from a dream. Instinctively she tried to evade, but he seemed to have anticipated this evasion. His lips waited at the most precise position. When she evaded, she instead delivered her lips right to his.

He didn’t hesitate to meet her, fiercely biting down.

Biting.

Teeth on her lips, holding those two petals between his teeth, he lightly sucked—fragrance penetrated straight to his core. A clever light knock silently opened the gateway of teeth. He drove straight in without invitation, using his nimble tongue to taste her long-missed fragrant sweetness, acting as an unrestrained dragon, swimming freely only in the depths of her rose island.

She seemed completely unprepared for him to be so bold, actually daring at such a location and moment—virtually before Jin Siyu—to forcibly kiss her. For a time, she’d even forgotten to be alarmed. She only felt her mind thundering in chaos. Before regaining consciousness, he’d already seized territory, and she’d forgotten where her borders lay.

In the darkness, lips and teeth entangled. Precisely because of the most intimate contact at the most inappropriate moment, the adulterous thrill—she couldn’t control her flushing face. Wanting to push, her hand injury wasn’t healed. Wanting to struggle, any movement of the beauty couch would inevitably make sound, certainly alarming Jin Siyu. She could only freeze there, gradually beginning to tremble slightly, quivering like falling blossoms. Because of this light trembling, that kiss became even more boundlessly rippling. In the darkness, both heard each other’s violent heartbeats—like great bronze bells, pounding in each other’s minds. All around, ripples silently expanded outward. Like great waves rising on the sea, rolling up and crushing countless white corals into fragments amidst azure waves. She gradually felt herself shatter—every sinew and meridian seemed swept by countless electric shocks, threading through crisscross, filling and accommodating, shocking her soft, shocking her split, shocking her shattered, shocking her into dust between heaven and earth.

So soft as spring water, boundlessly drowning, yet not emitting the slightest gasp—neither of them did. So quiet as to be eerie, silent to the point of alarm. In the most impossible circumstance, in the most hopeless perilous ground, clinging unto death, one kiss.

In feeling, incomparably long, as if crossing ancient primordial times. In reality, incomparably brief—no more than an instant’s spark.

Jin Siyu had already reached the last long window.

Tears suddenly welled in her eyes.

Such crystalline flashing.

Like the first six-petaled plum blossom snowflake falling in a great snowfall…

Bone-piercingly cold.

He suddenly silently shifted away. He could delay no longer. She seemed to stubbornly refuse to risk leaving with him. He also felt the timing wasn’t mature. Then he could only first enter the secret passage behind the bookshelf.

The secret passage had been discovered long ago. The reason he dared not attempt it was not knowing whether beyond the passage lay escape or trap.

He hadn’t entered Pucheng and Puyuan alone. Even if Jin Siyu had laid heaven and earth nets, he had ways to escape intact. But if she wouldn’t cooperate, or perhaps truly hadn’t lost her memory and harbored resentment—then many people would die.

Deep in his heart he knew rushing out would actually be better than entering the secret passage. That would be truly unsafe. Yet touching her so, his heart ached, knowing this rush would waste all previous effort. Afterward, Helian and Zongchen rescuing her would be even harder.

He wanted to not be so selfish for once.

This journey had been so bleak and cold, like long snows across endless skies. Yet in this lifetime, one should risk everything for someone once.

He reluctantly yet resolutely moved his lips away, retreating backward toward behind the bookshelf.

She suddenly struck out like lightning!

In the darkness, boldly swinging her elbow—having lost true power but with angle precise and force exquisitely skillful—using all her body’s strength, she viciously flew and crashed against his temple!

He’d never imagined she would suddenly strike at this moment. He only felt his mind explode with a bang, sparks flying, then heaven and earth went pitch black.

He collapsed noiselessly.

Then she began screaming.

The scream was shrill, full of terror, like steel wire puncturing the dark silence.

While screaming, she rolled off the beauty couch. Rolling off, she swept him with her foot behind the bookshelf, then crawled and rolled to the back window. There was also a window there. Because it didn’t face her direction, Jin Siyu hadn’t gone to close it first. She rapidly rolled over, leaped up, raised her hand to pull open the window—pulled extremely violently. Dark light flashed in her hand simultaneously.

“Shhht!”

Something was triggered, whistling as it shot into the study with a bang, embedding somewhere, bringing a humming vibration.

Her scream had just begun when Jin Siyu had already rushed over, lunging by memory toward the beauty couch’s location, but touched empty space. Greatly alarmed, he shouted lowly, “Shaoyao!”

She screamed, cowering beneath the back window, trembling. “Someone!”

“Shhht.”

Jin Siyu lit a candle, held it in hand. Dim yellow lamplight reflected on his face, worried expression floating between his brows. “Shaoyao!”

He strode quickly over, embracing her. “How did you get here?”

“Someone!” She twisted in his embrace, pointing straight at the back window. “Just now when you went to close windows, I was lying on the couch. Suddenly I heard the back window crash open. Someone rushed in, first sweeping over to grab me up. Probably discovering something wrong, threw me aside. I tumbled out all the way here… Hey, where’s the person?”

She looked around in panic, drawing in a sharp breath. “Where’s the person?”

Jin Siyu stared at her. She was disheveled, rolled into a corner, hair scattered from collision, even her makeup smeared. The soft wood Doctor Ruan had given her to stabilize her joints was scattered everywhere—clearly from being grabbed by the hand and pulled up, so painful that tears welled in her eyes, washing away the rouge beneath them.

“You truly saw someone?” he asked slowly.

She shook her head. He paused.

“Not saw—felt.” She said. “I only heard the back window crash open, fierce wind sounds, then someone grabbed me up and threw me out, extremely fast… I tumbled out dizzy-headed, only heard wind sounds overhead, then your light came on… Was that person human or ghost? How so fast? Where did they go now?”

Jin Siyu looked up at the endlessly swaying trees outside the back window, saying slowly, “I think… because the front windows were locked, and you exposed their whereabouts, they escaped out the back window.”

She looked up in astonishment. Her gaze swept past unintentionally, and she drew in another sharp breath.

Right on the front wall’s ceiling beam, embedded in dense rows were dark blue iron arrows, glinting in the lamplight.

“He triggered the mechanism.” Jin Siyu followed her gaze, his expression not particularly surprised. “As long as someone appears anywhere outside the reasonable path range before or behind the study, they might trigger mechanisms.”

“What kind of person is this?” she murmured. “An assassin?”

Jin Siyu clapped his hands. Before long, someone entered at his call. He said, “Just now an assassin broke into the study. Strengthen security throughout the residence, increase night patrol shifts, and search the entire residence immediately.”

“Yes!”

The guard received orders and left. Jin Siyu lifted her up. She breathed out a long sigh, murmuring in his embrace, “Just now I thought I was going to die…”

“Why didn’t you think you’d be rescued?” Jin Siyu looked down at her, smiling faintly. “What if this person came to rescue you?”

“Rescue me?” She widened her eyes, then smiled. “Someone rescuing me would throw me away? I rather think they’re most likely your enemy.”

“Oh?” Jin Siyu placed her on the soft couch. “Why?”

“With your status, you couldn’t possibly have no enemies.” Her answer was simple.

He was distracted for a moment before saying, “Yes. From childhood until now, I’ve experienced one hundred thirty-one assassination attempts. Assassins—to me, nothing could be more commonplace.”

His tone was casual. She lowered her lashes—if truly commonplace and never minded, how would he remember the number of assassination attempts so clearly?

“Call Doctor Ruan to treat you. Look how disheveled you are.” Jin Siyu said.

“This late at night, and I’m not injured—no need.” She shook her head. “I’m frightened, my heart racing a bit. Just let me lie down. We can chat casually.”

“Or I’ll send you back to your room.”

“What about you?” She looked at him. “I think you need rest more.”

“After sending you over, I still must return.” He smiled bitterly. “Some troublesome matters.”

“Oh?”

But Jin Siyu said nothing more, his brows furrowing lightly.

She also didn’t speak, closing her eyes to rest. For a time, the study held only the rustling sound of papers flipped by wind. After a long while, Jin Siyu came over to help her up. She raised her head to smile at Jin Siyu.

Seeing her smile, Jin Siyu paused. For a moment, even he hadn’t reacted—a sentence escaped his lips.

“My Fourth Brother has made some moves recently. I’m troubled…”

Once said, he felt it inappropriate—why had he said this? Yet unable to take it back, he could only smile bitterly.

She didn’t speak, raised her eyes to look at him questioningly, saying softly, “Things weighing on your heart feel bad. If you’re willing, treat me as a listener.”

“It’s nothing much.” Jin Siyu thought for a moment, sat down beside her, gently held her hand. “My Fourth Brother took advantage of my recent defeat to move against my faction’s Minister of War and Minister of Revenue, colluding with the Censorate to jointly submit memorials, forcibly removing them—one removed, one demoted. The Minister of War position went to my uncle, who’s always favored Fourth Brother. The great army is still at the front. Everyone knows there’ll be battles again come spring. Appointing generals and deploying armies are all under the Ministry of War’s control. If he deliberately obstructs, I’ll have trouble here.”

“Your Fourth Brother?” She questioned this rather intimate form of address.

Jin Siyu smiled bitterly. “My full blood younger brother.”

“Then why so serious?” she said. “Even if the Minister of Revenue is your uncle and shows some favoritism, it wouldn’t go that far. No need for such worry.”

“You don’t know.” Jin Siyu hesitated for a long while before finally saying, “Though Fourth Brother and I are full brothers, we’ve never gotten along. Mother Empress never tried to reconcile us either. In her view, with two sons, whoever ascends the throne, she’s still Empress Dowager. She supports both sons. Whoever loses ambition, she abandons and supports the other instead. This has been her method for remaining unshakable in Great Yue’s rear palace for years. Now… using it on her sons.”

She remained silent. After a long moment she said, “What a terrifying imperial family…”

Terrifying imperial family—mothers not being mothers, sons not being sons, brothers not being brothers.

Jin Siyu smiled bitterly, lying down beside her, hands pillowing his head, murmuring, “Look—closest brothers yet become your greatest obstacle. Can’t move them, can’t kill them. What to do?”

She smiled—truly can’t move them, can’t kill them? If you truly couldn’t move or kill, you wouldn’t even conceive this thought.

“Can’t kill brothers,” she casually flipped the book in her hand, “but uncles who don’t know their place can certainly be moved.”

Jin Siyu paused, turned to look at her, suddenly laughing. “Nonsense. You don’t know my maternal family’s power. Sons can be selectively abandoned, but brothers are the backbone maintaining clan prosperity. Mother Empress greatly protects the clan. Moving my uncle would anger Mother Empress. Even my own foundation would be unstable.”

She still had that bland expression. “Simple then. Just make your uncle lose favor with your Mother Empress.”

Jin Siyu, hearing her tone, became interested. He rolled over to face her. “Do you have some good method?”

“No method.” She yawned lazily. “Is Great Yue’s palace full of beauties?”

“What beauties?” Jin Siyu laughed. “Father Emperor is aged. Mother Empress is… strict. To avoid harming the dragon body, the palace hasn’t selected consorts in years. Now they’re mostly old matrons.”

“I see.” She smiled. “The palace is too quiet. The Empress inevitably focuses more attention on court matters.”

This sentence was only half-said, but Jin Siyu—being so intelligent—immediately understood her meaning. Suddenly slapping his hand, he said, “You women still understand women best. But… my uncle would never dare offend Mother Empress.”

“Where’s the offense?” she said. “Since there’s major war, the Minister of War must recommend generals, right? Generals recommended by the Minister of War winning battles at the front and presenting captives to His Majesty—very normal, right? As for these captives… how His Majesty chooses to dispose of them is His Majesty’s business. Don’t you agree?”

Jin Siyu looked at her. After a long moment, amusement floated in his eyes. “On Great Yue’s borders are several tribes whose women are extremely beautiful and skilled in arts of seduction…”

She smiled without speaking.

“Only if Father Emperor truly dotes on these women, forcing Mother Empress to redirect energy back to the rear palace and punish Uncle, but I know Mother Empress’s methods well. These women with only looks cannot contend with her. By then…” Jin Siyu pondered.

“By then you can play the good person.” She stretched lazily. “An emperor exclusively favoring war captives never sounds quite proper. Your Highness, loyally serving the nation, mobilizing censors to submit remonstrations—that’s appropriate. By that time, His Majesty will presumably have tired of the novelties. With pressure from inside and out, he’ll compromise. In the end, the Empress will likely be grateful to you.”

Jin Siyu gazed at her intently, eyes burning. After a long moment, he suddenly leaned forward, embracing her. “Shaoyao, I never imagined you’d help me.”

At this moment, his tone was sincere. The habitual refined yet slightly distant feeling dispersed, showing considerable joy and sincerity.

She was in his embrace, posture languid, breath faint. Smiling, she played with the gold buttons on his collar, saying softly, “Why wouldn’t I help you? I don’t remember past events. I only remember now you treat me quite well. Despite my great crimes, you didn’t kill me—clearly you still cherish me. Since you’re troubled, naturally I don’t wish to see it. Only my thoughts are a woman’s—I don’t know if I spoke correctly.”

Jin Siyu looked down at her long thick lashes, densely fluttering, pert and obedient. He couldn’t help smiling, gently stroking her long hair. “Right or wrong doesn’t matter. Having this intent brings me great joy.”

She looked up at him, smiling. “Then hereafter I’ll give you advice daily—a whole pile of terrible advice.”

He couldn’t help laughing heartily, intimately pinching her nose tip, suddenly saying, “Shaoyao, Doctor Ruan says the blood clot from your head injury has dispersed. If memory doesn’t return soon, I’m afraid it’s hard to say when you’ll remember. Perhaps three to five days, more likely many years. You’re now all alone, physically weak. Still let me care for you.”

Still let me care for you.

Said tactfully, yet the meaning was clear. She remained silent, a trace of light smile at her lips. “You’re willing to believe me?”

Jin Siyu smiled. “You’ve also felt how especially fortified Puyuan is, haven’t you? Don’t be overly sensitive. It’s not targeting you I’m a dignified imperial prince, heaven’s noble offspring, heaven’s noble offspring. Wherever I am must always have step-by-step defenses and constant vigilance. This is also to protect you well.”

She smiled, leaning toward him without a word. He embraced her, warmth blooming in his eyes that even he hadn’t noticed.

That mountain-like suspicion, gradually worn thin through day after day of countless tests—his innumerable arrangements and trials before her had always come up empty. Now even doubting her was difficult.

Once he’d suspected she was that person. Yet she hadn’t desperately tried to save Hua Qiong, hadn’t acted against Klie. Even Klie was improving day by day. Her joy was written between her brows. She truly believed his words.

And news from Tiansheng reported they’d already held a funeral for Wei Zhi—mourning by the three armies, imperial edict of consolation. He’d sent people to secretly excavate the tomb. The corpse in the tomb was complete. Taking a section of bone to have a shaman test it, the derived age truly matched Wei Zhi.

And the legendary Wei Zhi compared to this gentle, pert woman—too many differences. That had been a youth gentle in appearance but sharp in essence, amiable yet distant in attitude, yet acting like thunderbolts in deeds. At Thousand Pound Gully, his hurried glimpse of Wei Zhi had indeed left this impression.

Sometimes he thought—was he too suspicious, his ideas too absurd? Though this woman was outstanding, she still fell far short of that legendarily peerless statesman and heroic youth.

Just a Tiansheng war captive who’d lost memory and martial power—taking her as his beloved was natural and justified.

Never before this moment had he so wished to believe her.

Believing her, he could embrace her.

The woman in his embrace had faint delicate fragrance—warm, gentle scent. He couldn’t help feeling restless, yet thinking there were still matters to handle, he reluctantly pushed her away, got off the couch, listened to the wind gradually lessening, and smiled. “I should still open the windows slightly. With them all shut tight like this while the brazier burns, careful we don’t get smoked.”

He went to open windows, walking along the wall, then went to brighten the candles.

His earlier position had always faced away from the bookshelf. His mind full of troubling court affairs, focused on conversing with her, he hadn’t noticed behind the bookshelf. Now going to trim candles, he was about to walk toward this side of the bookshelf.

The *Poetry Selection* placed aside on the couch suddenly fell to the floor with a clatter.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, rolling off the couch to pick it up. Just crouching down, she suddenly cried out in alarm.

Jin Siyu had just walked over. His gaze focused—he’d already seen a strand of black hair faintly showing behind the bookshelf.

His eyes flashed. Glancing at her, he reached out to drag that person out. That person wore guard’s casual clothes but had an unfamiliar face.

“Who is this hiding behind the bookshelf?” she asked in alarm.

Jin Siyu’s expression was cold. He clapped his hands. After a moment, the Puyuan steward hurried in. Seeing that unconscious person on the floor, his expression changed. “Your Highness, this is that study servant arranged for you. How is he still here now?”

Jin Siyu stood with hands behind his back, coldly. A trace of doubt flashed through his eyes, then he said in a deep voice, “Broke the rules. You know what to do?”

“Yes.” The steward sighed inwardly. He knew His Highness had arrived at the study early today. This servant must have been unable to avoid in time, so hid behind the bookshelf. Somehow he’d fainted here. He couldn’t help silently cursing this person’s stupidity. Rather than rushing out at the time to offend His Highness, he couldn’t stay and violate taboo. His Highness handled many secret official matters. Once overheard by someone, that was truly a capital offense.

He waved to two guards behind him, signaling them to drag the person out.

“Wait.”

When she spoke, the steward stopped, knowing she was now His Highness’s number one favorite. He dared not offend.

“Where are you taking him?”

The steward remained silent, sneaking glances at Jin Siyu.

Yet she seemed to already understand. Frowning, she looked toward Jin Siyu. “Your Highness, this servant didn’t break the rules. Today you came early by half an hour. He was presumably cleaning the study, not daring to meet you face-to-face, so hid behind the bookshelf. And just now an assassin broke in. Upon discovering me, he presumably also discovered him and struck him unconscious… He knows nothing. Isn’t that right?”

Jin Siyu was silent, understanding her meaning—this servant hadn’t deliberately lingered in the study. And when he began discussing court matters with her, the man was already unconscious and hadn’t heard anything.

He glanced faintly at that servant. All people recently entering the residence, regardless of background or origins, were under extremely tight surveillance. He also never forgot to test them. Only after testing to complete satisfaction could he use them. So today he’d come early to the study. If this servant tried to take her away or tried to access the secret passage behind the bookshelf, waiting for him would be the heaven and earth nets he’d already arranged.

Yet there’d been nothing.

Yet ultimately she’d discovered him first.

Looking at her earnest eyes, he knew this woman’s heart was actually soft. Pleading for mercy was inevitable.

“Since so, capital punishment can be avoided, but living punishment is hard to escape.” He said faintly. “Thirty boards to teach him a lesson.”

She sighed but said nothing more. Jin Siyu thought she’d continue pleading, but seeing her accept gracefully, he was somewhat surprised. But she said, “You have your rules. You’ve already given me much face.”

Truly understanding and tactful. Jin Siyu smiled, his mood improving several degrees. With great interest, he took out black and white stones. “Let’s play chess.”

Guards stepped forward, dragging Qiu Shu out. Crossing the threshold, he woke.

Someone just waking from unconsciousness has somewhat dazed eyes, not quite understanding what’s happening. The steward said, “You’re lucky, boy. Offending His Highness is normally a capital offense. Miss Shaoyao pleaded for you—receiving thirty boards and you’re fine! Won’t you express gratitude?”

He raised his eyes, looking toward the two inside. The brazier was warm, candlelight bright red. A couple knelt facing each other, both contemplating the board. Her long black hair cascaded down, covering half her face and expression. Suddenly she made a terrible move with a clack, provoking Jin Siyu’s hearty laughter. Hearing the steward say he should kowtow in gratitude, he waved impatiently.

He remained silently watching, his gaze sweeping across the sleeve where she propped her elbow, then he stood on his own, following the guards into the courtyard.

Two servants in the courtyard held boards, setting up the punishment bench waiting. He smiled, but before lying on the bench said, “Two elder brothers, these clothes were lent to me by a guard brother. I must return them. If damaged, it’s hard to explain. I’ve heard elder brothers’ skill is extremely clever—can injure skin and flesh without damaging clothes. Please help.”

“That’s easy.” One servant smiled. “You understand propriety, boy. I think you’re afraid of stripping, aren’t you? After all, from a scholarly family—understandable. Only that method injures more. Have you considered carefully?”

“No problem.” He looked toward that study. Warm yellow lamplight flowed out like water, faintly mixed with her low delicate laughter and Jin Siyu’s hearty laughter.

“Begin.”

“One—”

“Got you!”

As the first board sound fell, she smiled charmingly and made her move.

The heavy board striking flesh transmitted to the inner room already somewhat faint and indistinct. She seemed not to hear, smiling between her brows, only watching Jin Siyu opposite.

When the first board fell, he trembled.

Yet he pulled his lips into a smile, thinking Great Yue’s Pucheng truly was a strange journey. In this lifetime, having experienced everything, he’d never tasted such flavor.

A superior personally performing menial labor, those who control life and death controlled by others.

She on warm couch in magnificent hall smiling and playing chess with another, he in cold wind courtyard alone receiving punishment and boards—truly the most wondrous thing in life that wouldn’t happen before and wouldn’t happen after.

Perhaps heaven couldn’t abide his initial selfish thought, so arranged this physical suffering in the dark?

Or was this lass deliberately retaliating?

Presumably quite pleased?

Though thinking this worldly cause and effect truly wasn’t satisfying, if it could truly make her pleased, that was also fine…

“Fifteen!”

“No more no more! You can’t play like this!” Her coquettish voice came over, clattering chess sounds drowning all other sounds.

Blood dripped beneath the punishment bench, seeping through inner clothes, slowly oozing down.

His chin rested on the bench, expression calm, eyes closed, listening.

Not listening to wind sounds striking overhead, listening to her low laughter from the distant interior—clear and bright, carrying soft mellowness. Hard to say clearly how these two sensations could simultaneously appear in one person’s laughter. Yet it was so—each sound exquisitely pearl-like, yet trailing slightly curved notes at the end, so that laughter gained intoxicating rhythm, so openly and directly alluring.

Suddenly remembering this laughter had been long absent. Even returning in the future, it likely wouldn’t be easily heard by him. Better seize this opportunity to hear more now.

Also thinking why was this woman so absorbed in chess… How come he remembered previously, aside from harming people, she fundamentally didn’t like using her brain?

Thoughts wandering, not attending to those tiger-strong board sounds. Yet blood still gradually seeped out, the area growing larger. Clothes undamaged, semi-transparent with deep crimson undertone. On his legs, fire lines seemed to burn, scorching wherever they reached as if flames leaped up, convulsing as if convulsing to his heart.

So boards were this hard to endure—better a quick blade… His head struck unconscious was still somewhat dizzy. Dazedly thinking, after returning home, abolish boards—uniformly three blades, six holes!

“Thirty!” The board count voice was drawn out and decisive.

“Got your big dragon!” She made her move with a clack, laughing crisply.

“Qiu Shu expresses gratitude—” The supervising steward by rule drew out his voice at the door to express thanks. Jin Siyu waved his hand. “Take him down. Find a doctor to look. Don’t let him fall ill.”

She listened to that drawn-out announcement, glanced at the blood-stained board in the punishing servant’s hand. Her gaze didn’t extend further but settled smiling on Jin Siyu opposite, gently placing her hand in his palm, saying softly:

“Your Highness, you’re truly kind.”