The blood-stained finger on the ground suddenly beckoned to her.

This beckoning made all the hair on Jing Hengbo’s body stand on end.

She stared unblinkingly at that finger, slowly backing away—this scene was too eerie. Only a fool would approach on invitation.

However, her steps soon stopped, because after that finger beckoned, it pointed downward, landing on the muddy ground and began to write.

Jing Hengbo stared blankly at the finger. Well, the finger was quite slender. Well, the handwriting seemed pretty good too. Well, she seemed to be focusing on the wrong things…

A line of characters appeared in the dirt. She blinked, not quite understanding why the owner of this hand, who could clearly stand up and communicate with her directly, insisted on hiding behind the wall corner and playing ghost.

Soon she understood why.

The finger suddenly paused on the ground, then pointed behind her, pointed at the writing on the ground, and then suddenly disappeared.

At the same time, a voice slowly sounded behind her.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was clear and cold, like plucking harp strings in falling snow on a quiet night. Jing Hengbo sighed.

That persistent ghost Gong Yin had still come after all.

But had he seen that eerie hand or not?

Gong Yin’s tone remained calm and distant, with no discernible change. “Had enough fun?”

Jing Hengbo hummed a response.

“If you’ve had enough fun, then come back.” Gong Yin didn’t mention the street murder at all, as if such matters were trivial.

Jing Hengbo made another acknowledging sound and hurried to crouch down to help Cui Jie, but seemed to lack strength. After getting Cui Jie halfway up, she slipped from her arms. Jing Hengbo turned to look at Gong Yin.

Gong Yin waved his hand, and a guard appeared like a ghost and shouldered Cui Jie.

Jing Hengbo glanced toward the ground from the corner of her eye—with all that helping and shuffling just now, both the writing and bloodstains on the ground were gone.

Jing Hengbo was wondering if they would be discovered by pursuing soldiers when leaving, when she suddenly heard a loud shout in the distance: “Found that murderous woman! Come quickly!” She could hear chaotic footsteps and voices all heading in that direction.

A simple diversion tactic, but very effective. At least when Jing Hengbo was surrounded by Gong Yin’s guards and emerged, no one paid attention, and they returned to the inn quite smoothly.

At the inn entrance, Jing Hengbo saw the still-unwell Jing Jun anxiously looking out at the door. When she saw her, Jing Jun seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and hurried forward saying, “Are you all right? I just heard something happened on the street…” As she spoke, her eyes swept behind Jing Hengbo, and her cheeks suddenly took on a faint blush.

Jing Hengbo was looking around at the street activity and didn’t notice her expression. Hearing the concern in her voice, she felt warmth in her heart, took her hand and smiled, “Don’t worry, with so many people around, how could anything happen?”

Suddenly a cool breeze passed by, white robes fluttering—Gong Yin had already entered first. Though he said nothing, his body language was full of “you’re all so talkative.”

Jing Hengbo pursed her lips and followed with cat-like steps. Jing Jun pressed her lips together, stepped aside, and looked at Gong Yin’s retreating figure.

Gong Yin and Jing Hengbo’s rooms faced each other. As long as Gong Yin was willing, he could split open Jing Hengbo’s door from across the hall at any time. Jing Hengbo’s protests against this arrangement were ineffective, so she could only quickly rush past him and slam her door shut with resentful force.

She sat in her room for a while, thinking about the words she had seen written on the ground, feeling irritated and restless. After thinking for a moment, she suddenly opened her door again and peered toward the opposite room.

As soon as the door opened, the white-robed figure who had been standing with his back to the door and hands behind his back slowly turned around. His eyes were fixed like deep-sea pearls in the twilight sunlight. The pale golden sunlight danced at his hair tips, making his face appear even more snow-like.

Jing Hengbo hadn’t expected him to be standing at her door the whole time and couldn’t help but freeze.

“What are you doing here?”

Gong Yin’s gaze was light, looking past her shoulder. “What are you opening the door for?”

Jing Hengbo paused, raised an eyebrow, “…I want water to wash my face!” She looked around, “Hey, why did you transfer away the two guards at my door? You won’t let me go out, but you transferred them away—what if I have needs?”

Gong Yin extended his hand toward her.

Jing Hengbo was stunned again—what was this for?

“Basin.”

Jing Hengbo almost wanted to clean out her ears—had she heard wrong?

She looked down at his hand—delicate and white, with clear lines, slender fingers, and beautiful joints… the hand belonging to Dahuang’s number one person.

This hand was waiting for her basin?

“Don’t you want to wash your face?” His tone was cold and natural. “How can I fetch water without a basin?”

This time Jing Hengbo really wanted to clean out her ears.

It wasn’t that she was belittling herself or elevating Gong Yin, but someone like Gong Yin personally fetching face-washing water for her?

Besides, anyone could see he’d never done such servant work before. Didn’t he know that inn servants would bring up hot water in large jugs, with no need to take a basin to fetch it?

He had properly sent away the guards just to stand at her door and do menial work?

Unfortunately, after she stared at the nobly dignified Master Gong for a long time, he showed no intention of withdrawing his hand. Jing Hengbo could only go back to get a basin and slap it into his palm.

“I want it scalding hot! Bring it to me quickly!”

Use power while you have it—it expires if unused.

Gong Yin glanced at her, took the basin, turned and walked to the railing. Below the railing was the first-floor courtyard, where a servant was laboriously carrying a large jug of hot water as he passed by.

Gong Yin beckoned.

The jug flew from the servant’s hands, soaring upward and landing lightly and cleverly in his palm.

The servant looked up with his mouth agape, his expression like he’d just seen a deity fall from the sky.

Gong Yin poured the hot water from the jug into the basin, flicked his sleeve, and sent it back into Jing Hengbo’s room, landing perfectly on the basin stand.

Curling steam obscured Jing Hengbo’s expression—she was presumably angry. Gong Yin thought about how when Jing Hengbo was angry and flushed, a faint rosy tint would sweep from her temples, extending all the way to her shimmering eyes, beautiful as summer lotus. His heart suddenly stirred slightly.

After that stirring, cold swept through his entire body.

He quickly turned around, extinguishing that moment’s association. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a young guard standing in the shadows below, constantly gazing up at Jing Hengbo’s room with a slightly red face and faintly longing eyes.

This young guard was the very one Jing Hengbo had kissed on the forehead in her joy earlier.

Two hours ago, after that kiss, he had lost his chance to stand guard at Jing Hengbo’s door.

Gong Yin glanced at him, placed both hands on the second-floor railing, and gazed into the distance as the setting sun withdrew its last trace of light behind the mountains.

His mood suddenly improved.

…

Jing Hengbo angrily finished washing her face, paced around the room, thinking about the words that hand had written on the ground earlier.

“If you want freedom, tonight send Gong Yin away and meet with me. The signal will be three partridge calls.”

Send Gong Yin away… how was that possible? Didn’t she see he was guarding the door?

Just as she was thinking irritably, she suddenly heard three low bird calls from the ceiling beam.

Jing Hengbo’s heart jolted. She quickly walked to the window to look out—Gong Yin was no longer at the door, but his room door across the way was open, presumably ready to split her door open at any moment.

This mysterious person dared to contact her like this—his courage was really too great.

She looked up, seeing a corner of black clothing hanging down, with a faint dark gleam even in the shadows. The style of that clothing made her heart jump again—it looked familiar.

Sure enough, the next second, leisurely laughter came from the ceiling beam.

“Respected Your Majesty, your collar is loose. Please let this humble minister tie it up for you, will you?”

…

Jing Hengbo blinked and swallowed, but cursed inwardly.

Searching everywhere without success, then stumbling upon it when least expected!

If she had known the one playing ghost to contact her was the black-clad beautiful State Preceptor, why would she have bothered with all this worry?

She had been stupid too—how had she not thought that this journey was probably a big magical duel between the two State Preceptors? The black-clad beautiful State Preceptor hadn’t gained any advantage all along, so sooner or later he would make a move through her.

But it didn’t matter. Since he was here, she might as well accept it. Right now the black-clad beauty was taking risks by coming over, so the initiative was still in her hands.

“I suddenly feel weak in my hands…” She leaned against the bed, smiling as she looked up, deliberately directing her loosened collar toward his direction. “Won’t you come down and tie it up for me?”

A soft laugh came from the ceiling beam. “Yelu Qi wouldn’t dare presume upon Your Majesty.”

Oh, his name was Yelu Qi.

“Someone who doesn’t even dare come down, yet has the nerve to talk about giving me freedom?” Jing Hengbo lazily turned around. “Negative points, get out.”

There was a slight sound from the ceiling beam, a section of black clothing dropped down, and Yelu Qi’s charming face—beautiful whether sulky or happy—appeared, smiling, “Give this humble minister half a quarter-hour, and this humble minister guarantees you won’t regret it.”

Jing Hengbo couldn’t see his blooming beauty clearly in the shadows, but just hearing his low, mellow laughter made her unable to harden her heart to drive him away—she was both a face-controller and a voice-controller.

“Gong Yin is meditating, so this humble minister risks showing himself. Let’s make this brief,” Yelu Qi said. “Let’s make a deal. You help this humble minister with one thing, and afterward, this humble minister will no longer be your minister. You can be your own queen—how about it?”