“Whether I continue staying in Yangquan or truly return to Jinzhong to recuperate, the people behind this won’t let the matter rest.” Zhou Weizhao leaned against his pillow, his expression resolute. “Since that’s the case, we might as well give them an opportunity.”

The thing he had worried most about before coming out had ultimately still happened. The matters in Yangquan County had been smoothly resolved, yet he still had to worry about that person’s assassins—it truly made one unable to guard against everything. Ye Jingkuan couldn’t help feeling somewhat resentful. The people from the Prince’s Household had all been carefully selected to help, who knew there would still be a traitor among them, and one who had nearly taken Zhou Weizhao’s life. Originally he had wanted to return to the capital to investigate thoroughly, but right now the most urgent matter wasn’t about investigating—first ensuring there were no other traitors was the real priority.

But this matter also couldn’t be rushed in a day or two. He nodded at Zhou Weizhao and stood up. “Forget it, it’s really too late today, and Your Highness has only just had the poison neutralized. Whatever needs to be said, let’s discuss tomorrow.”

The drowsy Ye Jingchuan immediately lifted his head and in a flash escorted Ye Jingkuan to the door before returning to stand before Zhou Weizhao, staring at him intently without blinking.

Zhou Weizhao felt somewhat puzzled being looked at this way, and leaning against the soft pillow, he coughed twice and frowned slightly. “The way you’re looking at me reminds me of that big wolfhound you raise. It also looks at you this way every time, wagging its tail and pouncing on you.”

Ye Jingchuan was in no mood to joke with him. He pulled over a chair and sat beside him, his brow troubled as he sighed. “Do you know what my father and mother’s plans are? And my eldest brother too—they all want me to marry Sixth Miss Song.”

Outside the room, the fragrance of medicine drifted in on the wind, making one drowsy, yet Zhou Weizhao’s two eyes were pitch black and bright like finest ink stones soaked in clear water, cold and clear, without a trace of sleepiness visible. He looked at Ye Jingchuan and slowly nodded.

The Ye family wanted Ye Jingchuan to marry Sixth Miss Song—partly because Second Young Master Ye’s intentions were practically written on his face, and partly because they wanted to help him forge an alliance with the Song family. The Ye family had never hidden any of this from him.

Seeing him nod, Ye Jingchuan grew even more troubled, lowering his head, his voice carrying a difficult-to-describe sense of loss. “But Sixth Miss Song doesn’t like me… she even seems somewhat afraid of me. The more attentive and considerate I am toward her, the more she seems like a frightened rabbit shrinking back faster… I don’t understand.”

He himself didn’t understand, and actually didn’t expect Zhou Weizhao to understand either—Zhou Weizhao had spent seven or eight years on Longhu Mountain, and when he returned, he didn’t even have anyone serving at his side. With great difficulty, two fair and delicate female Daoist soldiers were finally seen by his side, but in the blink of an eye he had sent them to Song Chuyi. Such a blockhead… He knew that asking Zhou Weizhao was pointless, but when he confided this trouble to his elder brother, his brother had been somewhat dismissive, saying it was a girl’s shy thoughts and would naturally be fine once they were married. In his heart he knew this was different, just like his sister-in-law Princess Rongcheng—even now whenever she looked at his eldest brother, one could see her affection for him in her eyes…

Zhou Weizhao thought of Song Chuyi’s treatment of Shen Qingrang. When she spoke of those foolish things she had once done, her face and eyes carried deep hatred and terror. Although she had already schemed until Duke Yingguo’s household had no ability to fight back and sent them all far away back to their hometown, seemingly drawing an end to her nightmare, in truth the influence that nightmare had on her was far from over. Even now she was still trapped in that nightmare, unable to emerge.

A person who had once been hurt until covered in wounds—even if you wrapped feelings in thick honey and offered them to her, she would still doubt whether arsenic was hidden inside. An excessively considerate and attentive attitude would instead easily frighten her away.

Zhou Weizhao’s brow unconsciously furrowed tighter. “Have you ever considered that you and Sixth Miss Song might simply not be suitable for each other?”

Ye Jingchuan suddenly raised his head to look at him. Thinking of the tacit understanding and naturalness whenever Zhou Weizhao and Song Chuyi stood side by side, the anger in his heart boiled up bit by bit. Clearly he had known Song Chuyi even earlier, yet Zhou Weizhao always seemed like a roundworm in Song Chuyi’s belly, able to guess her thoughts. He nearly let out a cold laugh from his throat. “She and I aren’t suitable? Why aren’t we suitable? Is it because our families don’t match, or because my character and appearance aren’t worthy?”

Zhou Weizhao shook his head, looking at Ye Jingchuan’s expression as if looking at a child crying and clamoring for candy. “Neither. If Sixth Miss Song only wanted matching family status, then you wouldn’t be this troubled.” He changed his phrasing. “Why do you like Sixth Miss Song?”

“What kind of ‘why’ is there for this?!” Ye Jingchuan stood up indignantly, feeling that Zhou Weizhao was simply toying with him. “Why would I come ask you, a blockhead who was a little Daoist priest for seven or eight years… If you understood these things, the matter of the Grand Princess Consort candidate wouldn’t have given my sister-in-law and the others such headaches.”

He walked off indignantly, and Zhou Weizhao’s remaining words went unspoken. For others, perhaps feelings that arise without reason and deepen with devotion were good, but for someone who viewed emotions as floods and savage beasts, having a reason to like someone would instead give her peace of mind.

The medicine had already been prepared. Qing Zhuo entered carrying the medicine bowl, and seeing Zhou Weizhao still hadn’t fallen asleep, quickly handed him the medicine. “Qing Luo has been brewing this all night. Please drink it while it’s hot, Your Highness. Oh, why did Second Young Master Ye leave in such anger?”

Zhou Weizhao’s hand paused, then he raised his head again to look at Qing Zhuo. “Qing Luo? Isn’t she attending Sixth Miss Song?”

Qing Zhuo slapped his forehead. His Highness had been sleeping in a stupor these past days due to the poisoning, then later was tormented by Imperial Physician Yan and Attendant Hu with golden needle acupuncture, and just now had been discussing matters with the Prince Consort—there simply hadn’t been a moment to spare. He hadn’t yet told His Highness that Sixth Miss Song had also come. With a smile, he explained how Song Chuyi had brought Qing Luo and Han Yan, then added, “It was also Sixth Miss Song and Commander Lai who together devised the plan to lure the snake from its hole.”

Zhou Weizhao smiled at an inopportune moment, feeling that Song Chuyi was exactly like the cat he had once raised on Longhu Mountain—a cat who, though wounded and scarred by others, always remembered to repay kindness. Perhaps because she couldn’t rest easy about the help he had given before, she had come so unhesitatingly, daring even to come to a place of warfare.

Though she always took revenge for any grievance, she also always remembered others’ kindness. Whoever treated her well, she would respond to with the greatest goodwill. Such a contradictory and complex young lady was truly most interesting.