No, no, this wouldn’t do. Today’s events had absolutely nothing to do with Liu Ruyi—there was no reason for her to be dragged into this mess!

He Tinglan wanted to lift the lid, but the latch outside had been fastened shut. In her desperation, she kicked at it, only to hear an announcement from outside: “His Highness has arrived.”

Footsteps approached from far to near. Frightened, she hugged her knees tightly and dared not move again.

Inside the room, candlelight flickered warmly. Within the red silk curtains, a beauty in thin garments sat waiting gracefully.

Prince Yong’s eyes lit up as he strode in with large steps: “Have you been waiting long? It’s all Ziyan’s fault—he kept me talking endlessly today, making me neglect this beautiful evening.”

The person inside the curtains let out a soft, coquettish hum, her tone sweet and soft: “If Your Highness doesn’t fancy this humble servant, just say so directly. Why use others as an excuse?”

Unexpectedly delighted that this little beauty was so forward and alluring, Prince Yong laughed heartily as he lifted the silk curtains: “How could it be an excuse? I’ll take you right now to meet—”

His words trailed off, the final tone hanging high and never falling.

Prince Yong stared at the clear, beautiful brows and eyes before him. His hand gripping the curtain slowly tightened, and his complexion gradually turned pale.

“Xixiang?” he murmured, his rough hand trembling as it touched the side of her face.

Ruyi blinked innocently, turning her profile-the one most resembling Lady He—toward him in the candlelight, smiling with barely visible white teeth: “Whom is Your Highness calling?”

He Xixiang, He Xixiang.

Prince Yong, over fifty years old, had a baby face. Even when his eyes reddened, he still looked like a young man. He stared at her in a daze, his body going limp as he knelt on the footstool beside the bed.

Ruyi watched him leisurely, thinking he would be so frightened he’d flee rolling and crawling. But unexpectedly, this man suddenly reached out to embrace her, warm tears flowing down her neck into her shoulder hollow.

“I’m sorry, Xixiang, I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be this way, I didn’t want it to be.” He choked with sobs, like a child who had finally found home, finally crying out loud: “You came to see me—am I dreaming? Please don’t let me wake up. I’ll go with you, I’ll go with you right now!”

The crying sounded very sorrowful, but Ruyi felt no sympathy whatsoever.

She turned her hand and produced a dagger, gracefully offering it to him: “Come then.”

A man who had been heartless and unfaithful for twenty years—what kind of deep love drama was he performing with her now?

Who would have thought that Prince Yong, taking the dagger, would stab it toward his own heart without hesitation? His movement was so swift that Ruyi could only reach out to block it in time.

The dagger pierced through the back of her hand, blood suddenly dripping down.

Prince Yong panicked and quickly pressed his hands over her wound: “Xixiang, don’t…”

The moment he covered it, he realized her blood was scalding hot—too hot to be a dream.

He looked up in bewilderment.

Ruyi, with one hand held in his grasp, looked down at him from above with noble arrogance: “I’m not called Xixiang.”

The madness in his eyes gradually faded, but Prince Yong still trembled uncontrollably: “How could this be? How could you look so much like her? Could you be… Ruyi?”

But that old scoundrel Liu Zhangtu had clearly said that Ruyi was dead.

“Your Highness seems to care greatly about this face,” she asked instead of answering. “If that’s the case, why didn’t you snatch her away from the Grand Preceptor’s manor back then? You had that capability later, didn’t you?”

Bringing up old matters, Prince Yong’s eyes revealed pain.

He held his head and collapsed beside the bed, murmuring: “How could I snatch her away? With what right? She had fallen in love with Liu Zhangtu and was willing to bear his children. What more could I, a heartless man, do?”

Twenty years had passed, and whenever he remembered the scene of Xixiang, pregnant, telling him they owed each other nothing, he still felt as if his heart were being carved out.

Yes, he had wronged her first, but he had no other choice. Why couldn’t she wait for him for two more years? Why did she turn around and conceive Liu Zhangtu’s child, becoming the legitimate wife of the Liu manor?

He truly liked her, truly liked her very much.

Tears flowed endlessly. Prince Yong looked up at Ruyi, his eyes holding resentment, but even more longing.

Ruyi couldn’t understand: “Liu Ruyi is Liu Zhangtu’s daughter?”

“What else?” Prince Yong laughed through his tears. “Did you think that with his temperament, he would willingly raise my child?”

“Then why did Lady He enter the household already pregnant?”

“The two of them had secret relations first. Naturally, by the time of marriage, she was already with child.” Prince Yong clenched his fists. “I held Xixiang in my heart, planning to consummate our marriage only after she entered my household. But that old scoundrel Liu Zhangtu—shameless, he acted first and asked questions later, ruining Xixiang’s reputation.”

Ruyi fell silent.

Liu Ruyi truly was Liu Zhangtu’s flesh and blood. She had previously wanted to find a reasonable explanation for Grand Preceptor Liu’s behavior, never imagining he was a beast who murdered his daughter.

How absurd.

“Did Lady He truly die of consumption?” she asked.

Prince Yong shook his head: “How could that be? She was always healthy. If she had consumption, I would have searched for medicine for her. She died suddenly. I’ve always wondered if there was something suspicious about it.”

As he spoke, he stumbled to his feet, pulling Ruyi outside to a small shrine in the outer room.

“I’ve worshipped her for ten years, ten years, but she never once came to my dreams.” His outstretched fingers trembled terribly as Prince Yong choked with sobs: “She won’t even glance at me again.”

Remembering Grand Preceptor Liu’s words, Ruyi shook her head: “It may not be that she’s unwilling to see you—perhaps she simply cannot.”

“What do you mean by this?”

“If Your Highness has leisure time, go look at Lady He’s grave and you’ll understand.”

“Her grave.” Prince Yong paced back and forth pitifully. “That old scoundrel never gave me a chance to pay my respects. I don’t know where it is.”

Ruyi generously pulled out a map for him: “As long as Your Highness gives me the contract documents for the He family’s young lady, this item is yours.”

Twenty years had passed, yet his sorrow remained unresolved, his regrets unconsoled. To exchange an inconsequential concubine for the location of Lady He’s grave, Prince Yong even felt he was getting a bargain.

He removed his outer robe to wrap around Ruyi, then turned and shouted outside: “Someone come!”

A servant quickly brought He Tinglan’s indenture contract. Ruyi smiled as she accepted it, bowing obediently: “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Remembering that the Grand Preceptor’s manor had held funeral rites for the eldest daughter, Prince Yong looked at this living, breathing young lady before him and felt even more heartache. But before he could say anything, a servant hurried over: “Your Highness, Lord Shen asks if you still wish to continue that game of chess. It’s getting late.”

Originally, he had planned to show off his beautiful concubine to Shen Qiyuan, never expecting such developments. Prince Yong looked at Ruyi and pressed the jade pendant from his waist into her hands: “I have no time for lengthy conversation today. Later, when I’m free, this prince will come to find you.”

“Very well.” Ruyi nodded. “Please allow me to take Tinglan’s luggage as well.”

Prince Yong readily agreed, having servants help carry the large red chest from the room to load onto the carriage, then escort her out through the back kitchen door of the prince’s manor.

The carriage wheels began rolling in the night. Ruyi lowered the curtain and had just breathed a sigh of relief when she felt someone behind her.