The doors and windows of the Eastern Palace sleeping quarters were tightly shut, with moisture steaming and rising, condensing into fine, crystalline droplets on the beams above.

Behind the screen, a silhouette with delicate curves appeared. Zhao Yān gathered her half-dry hair from the back of her neck with one hand, exposing her slender white nape, while pressing soft, resilient white silk cloth to her chest with the other hand, slowly winding and tightening it around her body turn by turn.

After binding herself with silk for nearly half a year, her chest barely felt like her own anymore. Yet as the weather grew warmer and spring clothes became increasingly thin, Zhao Yān dared not relax her vigilance.

Zhao Yān frowned, then choked as the binding tightened, taking quite some time before she could gradually find space to breathe again.

“After the wine toast, the Crown Prince need not make an appearance. If the proceedings go quickly, Your Highness only needs to endure for half a day.”

Liu Ying helped her master put on a plain white undergarment, concealing the tightly bound layers of white silk beneath. With lowered eyes, she said, “Spring and summer are the most difficult to endure. Your Highness suffers greatly.”

She was a palace maid personally trained by the Empress, so naturally her actions resembled the Empress’s—caring only about results, not methods. It was rare for her to speak such intimate words.

“Liu Ying, you’re truly becoming more compassionate.”

Zhao Yān still had the spirit to tease her as she put on a crimson gauze robe and let down her gathered hair. “Before returning to the palace, I had already prepared myself mentally. Now that we’ve come this far, I must endure the discomfort no matter how unbearable.”

After dressing fully and stepping out, she saw Liu Ji standing in the corridor wearing a veiled hat.

…

…

She raised her hand to lift a corner of the hanging veil and said to Zhao Yān: “I need to leave the palace. Please take me out with you, Your Highness.”

Although Liu Ji had the Eastern Palace token, considering how closely various court factions were watching, and with someone like Prince Su, who had eyes and ears everywhere, her movements were not convenient. If she could hide in the Crown Prince’s carriage and leave the palace together, it would save her these troubles.

She would directly express whatever she thought or wanted to do, and was extremely opinionated. For instance, she wasn’t asking “whether you could take me out of the palace,” but had already decided “take me out too.”

Zhao Yān didn’t inquire about what Liu Ji planned to do outside the palace. “Trust those you employ” was a principle her Grandmother Empress Dowager had taught her.

The Flower Pin Banquet was set in Penglai Garden, north of the Imperial City. From the side gate of the Eastern Palace, turning a corner and walking along the path outside the palace walls for half an hour would bring them to the Penglai Gate.

Liu Ji lifted the carriage curtain to look outside, then said, “This place will do.”

Zhao Yān pushed aside a corner of the carriage curtain to look. She saw Liu Ji entering through the Yongchang District gate, casually browsing some shops along the street before disappearing into the constantly moving crowd.

Zhao Yān watched her disappear into the distance before instructing Gu Xing to continue driving.

Liu Ji traversed several streets, wandering for over half an hour, until she confirmed no suspicious figures were following her. Only then did she enter a rouge shop on Daning Street, exiting through the back door, and circling to the back wall of Mingde Hall.

She boldly tucked the hem of her skirt into her waistband, not caring that her undergarments and calves were exposed, and skillfully climbed the crooked jujube tree, swinging herself up onto the wall.

A bean curd vendor passing by with his cart stared in astonishment at the woman sitting brazenly on top of the wall.

Liu Ji froze while rubbing her ankle, lowered her skirt to cover herself, tossed her hair, and snapped fiercely: “What are you staring at! Haven’t you seen a woman meeting her lover before?”

With that, she rolled her eyes and jumped into the rear courtyard of Mingde Hall.

Birds on the wall flew away, startled. The vendor muttered something about “declining social morals” and walked away shaking his head.

Liu Ji stood with folded arms, hiding behind a rockery in the corner of the courtyard, frowning as she waited for a group of scholars strolling and reciting poetry to leave before emerging and heading directly toward the Mirror Pavilion.

Dodging and hiding all the way, she truly resembled someone engaged in an illicit affair.

For the Shangsi Festival, Mingde Hall was on holiday. The scholars either returned home to visit relatives or went out together for spring outings. The more refined ones would find scenic spots to float wine cups on streams and compose poetry. Thus, the tower was empty with no one on duty.

Liu Ji climbed the spiraling old wooden stairs to the fifth floor.

The top floor was a pavilion with windows on three sides. Left unattended for a long time with no one to clean it properly, the pavilion had accumulated a thick layer of dust, making the desks and wooden floor dim and lackluster, almost indistinguishable from their original colors.

The scent of years of decay enveloped her from all directions. Liu Ji raised her hand to brush away a huge cobweb above her head and clenched her fist several times before finding the courage to step back into this desolate gloom.

The lotus candle holder lay toppled on the ground, its paper shade damaged with only the bamboo frame remaining, resembling a white skeletal remains stretching across the floor.

Liu Ji righted the candle holder and vigorously brushed away dust from the corner of the desk. The words “Extinguishing the Lamp” in neat calligraphy gradually appeared before her eyes.

Memories from this time last year rushed forth like a flood. The grand scene of scholars surrounding the frail and gentle Crown Prince discussing classics and principles was vivid before her eyes.

They knew no fatigue, sleeping in disarray when tired, sometimes waking abruptly from dreams with brilliant ideas, disheveled and writing furiously until dawn broke, only then collapsing with immense satisfaction.

Back then, the pavilion’s lamps burned brightly through the night, just like the passionate flames in their hearts.

They all thought the long night was ending, with dawn just ahead…

Liu Ji’s delicate eyebrows wrinkled as she pulled a hairpin from her hair and gradually scratched, cut, and destroyed the words “Extinguishing the Lamp” in the corner of the desk until they were completely unrecognizable.

She gathered her sleeves and squatted down, prying up a hollow floorboard to retrieve an object that had been sealed away for nearly a year.

It was a scroll, palm-sized. Untying the cord and unfolding a corner, she first saw a crooked flower-like pattern, followed by several signatures in different handwriting styles.

Crown Prince of Great Xuan Zhao Yǎn, Shen Jingming, Cheng Jixing, Wang Yu, and Liu…

Liu Ji didn’t continue looking. She stuffed the heavy scroll into her bosom and went downstairs.

Penglai Garden was opened from east to west with a dozen or so gardens of various sizes, planted with masses of peach, pear, apricot, cherry, and other flowering plants. With hills and ponds standing prominently, palaces scattered about, and pavilions hidden amongst misty clouds, it resembled a fairyland on earth.

The Eastern Palace carriage stopped at the main entrance. Zhao Yān stepped down using the footstool, then suddenly paused to rub her right eye, causing the small tear mole to be rubbed into a bright red.

“Is Your Highness’s eye still uncomfortable?” Liu Ying asked with concern.

“My eyelid keeps twitching,” Zhao Yān frowned.

Liu Ying went to the carriage and brought out a small sleeve warmer, pressing it against the acupoint at the corner of Zhao Yān’s eye. “Perhaps Your Highness has been straining your eyes too much these past days without proper rest.”

“I still feel something isn’t right.”

Zhao Yān thought for a moment, then instructed Liu Ying, who was accompanying her: “At the banquet, you must secretly verify all drinks and food served before presenting them. And the incense in the braziers should also be replaced with our own.”

“Yes.”

Liu Ying replied, “I’ve already instructed Li Fu about this. After we’re seated, I will remind him once more.”

The precautions at Penglai Garden weren’t as strict as in the palace. The banquet would be filled with all sorts of people, so extra caution was warranted.

As they were speaking, the sound of approaching hoofbeats gradually grew louder.

Zhao Yān was still holding the warm sleeve warmer when she glanced sideways and saw Wenren Lin coming on horseback under the pear blossoms growing out from the palace wall.

In Great Xuan, black and red were considered noble colors. Today he wore a deep red everyday attire, darker than official robes—a dark red like fresh blood. It accentuated his broad-shouldered, long-legged athletic build while making his face appear even more frost-white and handsome.

Right, Father Emperor had asked him to select a noblewoman he fancied at the banquet, so naturally, he would dress to catch the eye.

Zhao Yān turned aside to avoid his gaze. Yesterday she had received a reply from Huayang, written by Shi Lan under the name “Princess Changfeng,” thanking the palace envoy for their concern and stating that Her Majesty the Empress Dowager was doing well at Huayang Traveling Palace…

The letter was written tactfully, implying that someone was indeed secretly investigating matters at Huayang.

Wenren Lin had been appearing and disappearing unpredictably lately, brewing some unknown plot. Remembering how he had mentioned “Princess Changfeng” repeatedly, Zhao Yān suspected he wouldn’t give up easily.

No wonder her eyelid had been twitching nonstop since yesterday.

While she was pondering, Wenren Lin had dismounted and was walking toward her. The pear blossoms, white as snow, swirled around his boots.

Zhao Yān discreetly turned her body and went to greet Zhou Ji, who had just alighted from his sedan chair.

“Instructor Zhou, you’ve arrived just in time. I’m still uncertain about one aspect of the flower pin etiquette we learned yesterday. Please enlighten me.”

With that, she took an intricately layered “Eighteen Scholars” flower from the tray offered by her attendant.

This way, she naturally and cleverly avoided bumping into Wenren Lin.

Wenren Lin didn’t pause.

The little Crown Prince typically dressed neatly, with snowy white or apricot white being his usual colors for everyday clothes. Today, however, he wore a light crimson gauze robe—the vivid color making his entire person brighter, even lending a certain charm to the tear mole at the corner of his eye.

At this moment, he was diligently holding a layered blooming white camellia, constantly adjusting his posture according to Zhou Ji’s instructions, with a slight smile in his eyes.

Compared to the petals of the “Eighteen Scholars” flower, it was hard to tell which was whiter—the flower or his fingertips.

Wenren Lin merely glanced once before withdrawing his gaze, calmly walking past the cheerfully conversing pair and up the stone steps.

He hadn’t come for the Crown Prince this time—he wasn’t in the mood to tease a cat.

The cool breeze from their passing contact vanished in an instant.

Zhao Yān caught the faint woody scent emanating from Wenren Lin, mixed with a trace of something she had never smelled before, like… the cold clarity of ice and snow in deep winter.

“Your Highness?” Zhou Ji called out.

Zhao Yān came back to her senses and hastily covered up: “Thank you, Instructor Zhou. I’ve remembered it now.”

Simply “using” Zhou Ji and leaving seemed impolite, so she handed him the white camellia in her hand: “This is to thank you, Teacher.”

At the Flower Pin Banquet, receiving a flower bestowed by the Crown Prince was a great honor that could not be refused.

Zhou Ji, therefore, extended his hand to accept it, saying: “Thank you, Your Highness.”

The white camellia resting in his refined fingers complemented his temperament quite well.

Zhao Yān left satisfied.

Zhou Ji watched her relaxed, retreating figure, a familiar scene surfacing in his mind.

Peach blossoms like rosy clouds at Huayang Traveling Palace, a lively and charming young girl casually breaking off a budding branch and handing it over: “The spring scenery is beautiful, it’s truly a shame to be shut up in the study. Little Zhou Teacher, don’t be so stubborn, this is for you!”

The breeze stirred his blue robe, and Zhou Ji felt confused by the memory that suddenly emerged.

Despite completely different voices and vastly different personalities, why did the person before him seem like an old acquaintance?

It seemed his face blindness condition was growing more severe.

Zhao Yān hadn’t expected so many female attendees at the banquet.

Besides the unmarried noble daughters selected by various families, idle consorts from the rear palace had also gathered in Langfang Pavilion at the northeast corner to view flowers from the height and gaze at the magnificent scenery.

As soon as Zhao Yān appeared, all eyes at the gathering turned toward her.

Among the scholars in blue robes from the imperial examination, the Eastern Palace Crown Prince in his crimson gold-embroidered gauze robe was especially eye-catching, not to mention his face of such exceptional beauty that it blurred the distinction between male and female!

With such outstanding looks, among all the men at the banquet, only Prince Su could surpass him.

But Prince Su held a high position and great power, with unpredictable moods, and was not an easy person to approach. The noble daughters had all been instructed by their parents and elders, and naturally wouldn’t be foolish enough to feed themselves to a tiger. Earlier, the overconfident daughter of Minister Guo, who had mustered the courage to “accidentally” encounter Prince Su, who knows what he said to her on the painted bridge—but the Guo family’s eldest daughter soon returned crying, her hands and feet ice-cold and trembling, as if her soul had departed…

Seeing this, the other women completely abandoned any inappropriate thoughts.

But the Crown Prince was different.

He was noble and beautiful, approachable, with a slender frame that wasn’t sickly, perfectly capable of arousing maternal feelings and tenderness in women.

What did his young age matter? The young ladies could handle that!

The noble daughters were at the age when romantic feelings blossom. Even with veiled hats covering their faces, they couldn’t hide their blushing hearts.

Zhao Yuan’yu stood in the shadowed doorway, watching the Crown Prince receiving the admiration of beautiful women from afar. His effeminate, harsh face was also tinged with heavy darkness.

“Why hasn’t that slut arrived yet? Quickly present the items!”

He urged through gritted teeth, impatient to drag Zhao Yǎn off his pedestal and trample the dignity of the Eastern Palace into mud.

The young eunuch didn’t dare disobey and ran to deliver the message.

Meanwhile, Zhao Yān patiently smiled and nodded in acknowledgment to each honored scholar who came to kneel and pay respects.

After the Ministry of Rites’ lengthy opening speech, they finally reached the procedure for bestowing the imperial flower pins.

Two rows of palace maids entered in procession, offering trays with gold and silver velvet flowers that had been prepared in advance.

According to Great Xuan’s old custom, the Top Scholar, Eyes of the Board, and Flower of the List would receive gold-leaf velvet flowers, while the remaining scholars would receive silver-leaf velvet flowers. The Crown Prince had to personally pin the flowers to the side of their gauze caps as a sign of imperial favor. Even the posture for holding the flower and the angle for pinning it had strict regulations.

Zhao Yān picked up the Top Scholar’s gold-leaf velvet flower.

The flower was extremely exquisite and detailed. Upon careful inspection, even its fragrance was made to seem remarkably genuine.

Zhao Yān didn’t think much of it and, following protocol, pinned the flower to the cap of the Top Scholar—a man old enough to be her father.

The Top Scholar wept with gratitude, performing three kneels and nine kowtows before withdrawing.

After finally bestowing all the flowers, it wasn’t yet time for the banquet to begin. The Ministry of Rites presented refined dance music to entertain the new nobles. Zhao Yān felt stuffy in her chest and went to find a shaded spot in the corridor to get some air.

The noble daughters, who had been holding back for a long time, nudged and glanced at each other, gradually gathering in groups of three or five.

Some of the bolder ones spoke up directly and frankly.

“Crown Prince, please bestow flowers upon us too.”

“Yes, yes! Even if Your Highness gives us just a blade of grass, it would be our greatest honor!”

Wenren Lin came down from the winding corridor bridge by the meandering stream to witness this lively scene.

The little Crown Prince was surrounded by a flock of twittering women, giving them various freshly picked flowers. His manner showed he was genuinely enjoying himself.

Wenren Lin changed direction and walked toward them.

The cheerful laughter stopped abruptly, and even the warm breeze seemed to still.

Zhao Yān looked up, her slightly curved eyes freezing when she saw Wenren Lin approaching casually.

With the cautionary tale of the Guo family’s eldest daughter fresh in their minds, the noble daughters seeing the handsome god of death approaching swiftly retreated, keeping him at the center.

A slightly younger girl stood motionless, too dumbstruck to react. Her sister bit her lip and stepped forward to yank her back.

Wenren Lin was quite satisfied with their sensible behavior.

He fixed his gaze on Zhao Yān, looking at her for a long while before saying coolly: “Your Highness seems quite generous with your flowers.”

Zhao Yān didn’t believe he had come specifically for small talk.

He merely enjoyed destroying her good mood and relishing in everyone’s trembling.

The jade narcissus that the palace attendants had gathered were almost all given away, with only a single early-blooming pomegranate flower lying lonely on the stone table.

“Bestowing flowers to reward ministers on behalf of Father Emperor is my duty,” said Zhao Yān.

Moved by sudden inspiration, she naturally picked up the pomegranate flower and offered it, looking up submissively: “This one is prepared for the Grand Tutor.”

She had skillfully continued the conversation. Wenren Lin’s gaze moved from her lips down to the equally vibrant pomegranate flower.

Flower shadows danced; one stood with hands behind his back, the other sat straight and proper; one in a blood-red robe, the other in bright crimson.

Bestowing flowers was an imperial favor for loyal ministers and meritorious officials—the giver was the sovereign, the receiver the subject.

Unfortunately, he was neither a loyal minister nor a meritorious official. The distinction between sovereign and subject could not constrain him in the slightest.

“Your Highness is thoughtful.”

Wenren Lin accepted the pomegranate flower, absently rubbing the petals between his fingers.

The flower stem turned once in his fingers, and Wenren Lin detected a very faint fragrance beyond that of the pomegranate flower.

Something seemed off, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

“My Lord,” Zhang Cang saluted Wenren Lin with clasped hands, apparently having something to report.

Wenren Lin held the flower stem behind his back, gave Zhao Yān a slight nod, and left.

The fiery red pomegranate flower turned lightly between his fingers, staining his frost-white, slender finger joints with the flower’s vibrant color.

The clouds scattered, warm sunlight poured down again, and Zhao Yān’s vision wavered.

She quickly braced her head and exhaled a hot breath.

“What’s wrong with Your Highness?” Liu Ying immediately supported her.

“I feel a bit dizzy,” Zhao Yān said.

Liu Ying looked up at the sultry sun and said quietly: “Perhaps you’re feeling stifled. Let me help you to Shicui Hall to rest for a moment.”

Shicui Hall wasn’t far. Zhao Yān lay on a small couch, but the dizziness did not subside.

Thinking it was because her chest binding was too tight, making it difficult to breathe and causing dizziness, she said: “Go inform the Ministry of Rites that I likely won’t make it to the wine toast at the banquet opening. Let them handle it as they see fit.”

Seeing that her complexion was truly unwell, and since the toast wasn’t an essential procedure, Liu Ying nodded: “Your Highness, please wait here for a moment. I’ll go make arrangements.”

Since the incident during the Minghua era when a prince brought guards into the palace attempting to assassinate the Emperor at a banquet, the palace had decreed: except for military officials who could bring one deputy when entering the palace to report duties after removing armor and weapons, no one else—whether prince or heir—could bring guards or servants into the palace.

Therefore, even Gu Xing could only wait outside the Penglai Garden palace gate.

With insufficient personnel, Liu Ying could only find a eunuch to relay the message.

However, there was no one around, and waiting any longer might be too much for Her Highness. She frowned slightly and headed toward the nearby banquet along the path shaded by flowers and trees.

As soon as Liu Ying closed the door, Zhao Yān could no longer support herself. Her body gradually went limp, her eyelids feeling as heavy as lead, her consciousness sinking into muddy quicksand.

The door was suddenly pushed open as a palace maid supported a woman who appeared to be a consort as they stumbled in. The woman’s hairpins and ornaments were completely disheveled, her breathing rapid, already unconscious.

“Beauty Liu, please rest well here,” Zhao Yān heard the palace maid say timidly.

She caught her breath, and even in her dazed state realized what was happening.

Though uncertain which part of the procedure had failed, she had indeed… fallen into a trap.

The most filthy and despicable trap.

Before she could call out, the sweet fragrance emanating from Beauty Liu rushed into her nostrils, merging and colliding with the substance already in Zhao Yān’s body. Like oil poured on fierce flames, it ignited an overwhelming and unfamiliar burning sensation.

Panic and helplessness washed over her as Zhao Yān dug her nails deep into her palms.

In a pavilion atop the rockery, Zhao Yuan’yu observed everything.

Only after witnessing the bribed palace maid deliver Beauty Liu into the hall did he snort in satisfaction and confirm: “Zhao Yǎn has been extremely cautious lately, refusing to touch anything that goes into his mouth, and even using incense prepared by the Eastern Palace. Are you certain the drug was administered?”

“This pair of Mandarin Duck Incense was personally prepared by the Priest. It’s divided into female and male varieties. The female portion was put in Beauty Liu’s drink, while the male portion—Qiu Niang disguised herself as a palace maid and applied it to the gold-leaf velvet flowers. As long as the Crown Prince came in contact with even a little while bestowing the flowers, he would certainly be affected.”

The young eunuch revealed a lewd smile. “If one smells only one type of incense, it’s harmless—causing at most some dizziness like being drunk. But when the female and male fragrances meet, yin and yang attract each other, and the reaction… Young Master, you’ve witnessed it firsthand.”

Recalling the results of the drug trials at the residence, Zhao Yuan’yu broke into a sinister smile.

If not for needing to conceal his identity, he would personally go to see that little Crown Prince stripped of propriety and ethics, copulating like a base animal with the Emperor’s woman in that degrading manner.

How satisfying!

The drug that the Priest had Qiu Niang deliver truly suited his intentions perfectly!

Noticing something was missing, Zhao Yuan’yu looked back: “By the way, where is Qiu Niang?”

The young eunuch shook his head: “I’m puzzled as well. By rights, Qiu Niang should have returned after infiltrating the palace maids and administering the drug.”

Zhao Yuan’yu’s eyes darkened, but he quickly ignored this minor incident and excitedly waved his sleeve: “Never mind her! Follow the plan and lead those consorts to Shicui Hall. We must catch them in the act!”

…

Where… is this?

Qiu Niang sat trembling on the ground with her hands bound, looking around in confusion.

She had merely gone to handle matters for the Prince Yong’s heir, and just as she was about to return to report, someone struck her with a hand chop and roughly brought her to this place…

Qiu Niang’s gaze froze as she stared at the handsome man half-hidden in shadows.

She recognized the dark red attire, her face showing half fear, half undisguised admiration despite herself.

“Where is your Priest hiding?”

His voice was low, creating an illusion of intimacy.

Qiu Niang’s pupils trembled as she bit her lip and said: “I… I don’t know any Priest.”

The man played with the pomegranate flower in his hand. In the darkness, only the outline of his dark red clothing was visible, along with the burning red between his fingers.

“You will know soon enough.”

He said this with a smile on his lips.

A scream that hadn’t fully escaped was choked in her throat, followed by a dull thud as she fell.

“Take her back and interrogate her slowly,” Zhang Cang instructed the eunuchs waiting outside.

The woman was quickly dragged away. Within a quarter of an hour, she would be delivered to the dungeon of Prince Su’s mansion.

“My Lord, we—”

Zhang Cang turned around but suddenly changed color upon seeing his master’s face.

That face was as white as frost, with only his lips showing an abnormal crimson.

Wenren Lin raised his eyes, their jet-black hue subtly revealing an eerie dark red, extremely bewitching.

Zhang Cang knew this was a sign of the Cold Bone Poison flaring up.

“My Lord, your poison!”

Zhang Cang came to his senses and desperately searched his person, but found nothing.

They had all thought the poison would activate on the seventh, so this month’s pills were still hidden in a secret compartment in the prince’s mansion…

Why had it come early? Why today of all days!

“I won’t die just yet, what are you panicking for?”

In the darkness, Wenren Lin’s voice was calm to the point of cruelty.

Knowing how ferocious and terrifying this poison was when fully activated—something even a hardened warrior like Zhang Cang couldn’t bear to witness again—how could he not be anxious?

“Can My Lord still walk? Let’s return to the mansion immediately for your medicine. There’s still time!”

He stepped forward, half-crouching, and patted his sturdy shoulders. “Come, My Lord, lean on this humble official’s shoulder.”

Wenren Lin laughed: “If people saw this Prince in such a state, could we still maintain peace afterward?”

“Then what should we—”

“You go back to fetch the medicine.”

Wenren Lin said, “Just half an hour. This Prince can endure it.”

Zhang Cang slapped his forehead and said: “This humble official will go right away!”

With that, he ran off like a whirlwind, even forgetting to close the door.

Wenren Lin went to the window and sat in the three feet of warm sunlight.

He found a comfortable position to lean back, closed his fist, then slowly released it, carefully feeling the waves of cold, stabbing pain emanating from his bones and viscera. Even the sunlight felt like ice knives cutting through his bones, yet his expression remained unchanged.

After all, he was used to it by now.

In Shicui Hall.

Zhao Yān, her face flushed, gasped as she held half of a broken flower vase.

The other end of the vase was shattered on the head of the now unconscious palace maid.

Having dealt with the maid, Zhao Yān turned her gaze to Beauty Liu who was continuously writhing and moaning on the soft couch.

The suffering she herself endured was no less than Beauty Liu’s.

The drug was extraordinarily potent. Earlier when she was alone, she merely felt dizzy, but once Beauty Liu arrived, an inexplicable fire ignited in her heart, nearly consuming her reason. However, the person who administered the drug didn’t know she was female, so she had no interest in another woman like Beauty Liu. Thus, she could barely maintain a shred of clarity and attacked the maid when her guard was down.

She couldn’t just stay here foolishly.

Even without the act being consummated, she—as the Crown Prince—sharing a room with a disheveled imperial consort was an enormous crime.

Revealing her true identity could prove her innocence, but how could she dare? The crimes of deceiving the Emperor and a hen crowing like a rooster were far more severe than the crime of adultery!

The broken flower vase clattered to the ground. Zhao Yān hastily covered Beauty Liu with a quilt to protect her last bit of dignity, then, clinging to her final moment of clarity, staggered out the door, supporting herself against the wall.

Zhao Yān’s steps were extremely unsteady, her vision distorted and blurry. She could only grope forward guided by instinct.

“Where are they? They’re gone! Hurry and find them, don’t ruin everything!”

The shrill voice of a eunuch came from the distance.

Zhao Yān’s heart lurched, and she instinctively stumbled in the opposite direction.

She didn’t know how far she had walked or where this winding, seemingly endless corridor would lead. She only wanted to get as far away from people as possible, to prevent anyone from seeing the “Crown Prince” in such a disheveled and humiliating state…

The sounds of human voices gradually faded, replaced by her own strange, rapid breathing.

The burning sensation blazed from within, rising to her cheeks and transforming into beads of sweat that streamed down. Zhao Yān was like a fish out of water, suffering to the point of near death.

Just as she could endure no more, she finally spotted a secluded hall hidden behind green pines.

Zhao Yān sought refuge inside.

Having exhausted her strength, she practically tumbled into the hall.

Then unexpectedly, she fell beneath a familiar patch of dark red fabric.

Zhao Yān hadn’t expected anyone to be in the hall and was momentarily stunned.

She had no strength to stand up, could only bite her lower lip hard, and hazily looked up along that red fabric—

In her scattered vision, that pale face leaning close appeared ethereal and blurred.

She desperately widened her eyes until those features slowly assembled into the visage most familiar to her.

Wenren Lin looked at the “little Crown Prince” with sweat-soaked hair and flushed face, surprise flashing in his eyes. Suffering from his poison attack, his mood was naturally poor. Hearing footsteps approach, he had harbored murderous intent, but the person who stumbled in was…

“Your Highness?”

He raised his ice-cold fingers to brush aside the loose strands of hair at Zhao Yān’s face, seemingly wanting to see her face more clearly.

Zhao Yān’s mind roared, and for a moment she dared not look at his expression.

She closed her eyes in despair and humiliation.

But reality proved there was even greater despair.

When Wenren Lin raised his hand, his unique cold scent wafted to her nose—a distinctly masculine scent vastly different from Beauty Liu’s.

Zhao Yān even suspected he had also been drugged with some powerful aphrodisiac, because the last shred of clarity she had been holding onto shattered completely the moment she crashed into this man.

The suppressed, unfamiliar desire returned a thousandfold like a broken dam.

Uncontrollably, she raised her hand, her trembling fingertips passing through that ray of sunlight streaming through the hall door, gently gripping that patch of dark red sleeve.

A tiny force, as if begging for mercy.

Wenren Lin was stunned.

Looking at the little Crown Prince’s wet, unfocused eyes, he seemed to understand something, and an exquisite smile gradually spread across his face.