Ning Yin could already predict what would happen next.

Yu Lingxi’s secret joy would soon be replaced by panic, followed by desperate pleas under the blade. When she discovered that begging was useless, she would break out in curses from despair…

Various emotions would bloom like flowers on her beautiful, frightened face, and then, abruptly end.

Ning Yin waited patiently.

But Yu Lingxi walked to the door, then slowly turned back, standing in place with her head lowered and eyes downcast.

The interest in Ning Yin’s eyes sank.

“So eager to die?” he asked.

Yu Lingxi lightly shook her delicate head, saying softly: “Outside the Prince’s residence is just another cage. This humble woman simply feels that continuing a life worse than death is not as clean as dying outright.”

This woman was boring to the extreme, which paradoxically made her interesting.

So he smiled, an extremely light sneer, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue.

He walked past the fragile young woman in crimson, slowly pacing to sit in the chair. His increasingly pale face in the darkness was as cold as a ghost, and he said unhurriedly: “Do you know this Prince’s methods?”

Yu Lingxi didn’t make a sound, unsure whether to nod or shake her head.

“With your appearance, you would be most suitable for having your intact skin peeled off and hung from the eaves, made into a human lantern. To ensure the skin’s color remains undamaged, it must be peeled while you’re alive.”

Ning Yin said each word deliberately, elegantly, and clearly.

She steeled her heart and increased her grip.

The wound on her hand from gripping the blade last night had not been treated and soon began to bleed again, dripping through her fingers onto the floor tiles.

Yu Lingxi looked at the wound on her palm for a long time, then pressed her crimson lips together and said: “This humble woman has wounds on her body, which would spoil the integrity of the skin. A lantern made from it would likely leak air.”

The implication was: could there be another way to die?

Ning Yin was astonished at her stubbornness, his patience was already at its limit.

He leaned back in his chair, observed her for a while, and said gently: “Come here.”

Yu Lingxi hesitated for a moment but still supporting her knees that were almost too weak to keep from kneeling, she moved step by step lightly to stand before the sinister, handsome Regent.

Before she could see how it happened, she felt a chill on her neck as Ning Yin grasped her throat.

To say “grasped” wasn’t quite accurate, because Ning Yin’s long, powerful fingers rested against her slender neck, not appearing to exert any force.

Yet somehow she couldn’t breathe, as the air instantly became thin.

Yu Lingxi’s cheeks gradually turned a magnificent red, like a flower blooming vibrantly before death. She opened her lips to breathe in vain but did not struggle.

Again, this deliberate provocation is followed by a calm “facing death” attitude.

Ning Yin, as if holding a lifeless clay figure, released his hand in boredom.

Yu Lingxi, with slightly reddened eyes, immediately braced herself on the ground, breathing rapidly.

Her soft black hair fell from behind her ear like spilled ink, highlighting her translucent white face that seemed delicate enough to break with a touch, extremely fragile.

Such a seemingly delicate woman, yet daring to manipulate his thoughts—how rare! To kill her according to her wishes would be too much of a waste.

Ning Yin gently reached out, tucking her disheveled hair behind her ear, having formed a new idea.

…

From then on, whenever Ning Yin left his chambers, he would see that woman kneeling far down the corridor, asking weakly: “Will the Prince kill me today?”

If he said “yes,” then Yu Lingxi would try her best to enjoy the last day of her life, then tidy her appearance and quietly wait for death.

But each time, Ning Yin would not kill her.

He was waiting, waiting for the day her psychological defenses collapsed.

Half a month later, Yu Lingxi was still alive.

Ning Yin even tacitly permitted the servants: whatever material requests she made, they should try to satisfy them.

This was unprecedented preferential treatment in the Prince’s residence. For a time, many servants came to respect Yu Lingxi, thinking that she was about to rise like a phoenix…

Unfortunately, this “phoenix” was not so promising. After many days of anxiety, she fell seriously ill.

Ning Yin was busy eliminating his opponents. By the time he realized that no one had come to pay respects and asked “Will you kill me” For many days, Yu Lingxi had little life left in her.

The beautiful sick woman on the bed breathed weakly, withering rapidly like a flower deprived of nutrients. Her cracked lips moved urgently, producing indistinct murmurs.

Ning Yin leaned forward on his cane and only then heard her calling for her “father and mother.”

She said she was cold and wanted to go home.

“The tombs of the Yu family stretch across mountains; you no longer have a home,” Ning Yin sneered at her without mercy.

He rarely had leisure time, but now he picked up a chipped porcelain bowl from the table, pinched her cheeks, and forcibly poured the small amount of tea at the bottom of the bowl into her mouth.

Although the tea was cold and murky, and most of it flowed down the corners of her mouth into her collar, it still shocked the servants.

Since leaving Yujie Xiandu, Ning Yin had not served others for a long time.

It wasn’t compassion that moved him. He was a man who recognized no kinship, who could torture and kill his father; he had long lost all human emotions.

A spider would fatten its prey that had fallen into its web before swallowing it whole, enjoying the ultimate delicacy. But if the prey died before being fattened, it would be too disappointing.

His heart was far more cruel than a spider’s.

With Ning Yin’s tacit permission, Yu Lingxi quickly began to recover.

Within half a month, she was able to get up and walk.

Whether it was something Yu Lingxi saw in a dream while confused by fever, or some unfinished task she remembered, after recovering, her will to live became much stronger.

Occasionally, she would boldly brew tea or warm wine for Ning Yin, but she no longer eagerly inquired about when she would die. Although still frail, the light in her eyes was much brighter.

She now cherished her life, which was good.

On a sunny, pleasant day in late autumn, Ning Yin timed it perfectly and summoned her before him.

On the table was already placed a bowl of dark brown medicinal soup. Judging from the names of more than a dozen venomous insects and snakes on the prescription paper beside it, this medicine was certainly terrifying.

“This Prince has been brewing poisons lately and needs someone to test them on,” he said, crossing his hands and leaning back in his chair, slightly raising his chin to indicate to her, “Drink it.”

Caught off guard, Yu Lingxi could only stare in shock.

She should have known that the infamous Regent would not easily tolerate her; the peaceful quiet of these days was nothing more than an illusion like the moon reflected in water or flowers in a mirror.

Ning Yin was quite satisfied with her reaction. That delicate lotus-like face finally revealed surging, overlapping emotions, rather than the wooden expression of someone seeking death.

Indeed, feeding her for a month before striking was much more delightful.

Ning Yin couldn’t explain why he went to such trouble to torment Yu Lingxi. Perhaps it was revenge for being manipulated by her several times when they first met, or perhaps he simply enjoyed the pleasure of destruction, finding joy in others’ pain…

After all, what logic could a madman have?

“Drink it, or shall this Prince feed it to you?” he said, slowly tapping his knuckles on the jade handle of his cane, a sign of his impatience.

Yu Lingxi did not want to know what would happen if she provoked the Regent’s impatience.

Forced to drink the medicinal soup, she sat stiffly for a while, then asked with a choked voice: “This medicine, does it work quickly?”

“If this Prince knew, why would I need you to test it?” Ning Yin replied, supporting his temple with his finger, fabricating deliberately. “If it’s fast, it will take effect within a quarter of an hour. If it’s slow…”

He deliberately dragged out his tone, lazy and sinister: “…who knows?”

Yu Lingxi nodded, then sat at the dressing table and began to arrange her hair and apply makeup.

Even in death, she wanted to be clean and beautiful, to face her parents and siblings in the underworld in the most beautiful state…

At the thought of her deceased family, tears finally spilled over, wetting her cheeks.

Ning Yin’s gaze followed her movements with interest.

With her back to him, she quickly wiped her eyes, lowered her head, took several deep breaths, and then continued applying powder and drawing her eyebrows with reddened eyes.

After the medicine took effect, she stood up shakily, dragged her heavy body to the bed, lay face up, crossed her hands on her chest, and waited for death to come.

Someone who had nearly died from illness once particularly cherished life, and was ultimately unwilling.

Ning Yin savored the subtle emotions of restraint on her face and coldly smiled: “If you have any last words, say them quickly.”

Yu Lingxi thought for a long time, and finally said softly through extreme drowsiness: “If I become a ghost, I will come back to find the Prince…”

After speaking, she closed her eyes, her breathing deep and long, falling completely into slumber.

She left the Regent sitting ominously by the bed, almost wanting to pinch her awake.

He extended his hand toward the young woman’s slender neck, his five fingers closed then opened again, and he smiled pathologically: “Very well when you become a ghost, don’t forget to come to find this Prince.”

He didn’t know then that many years later, these words would come true.

…

Yu Lingxi hadn’t expected to wake up again.

Seeing that sinister face by her bedside, Yu Lingxi’s heart tightened as she thought with frustration: Could this unpredictable madman have followed her to hell to torment her?

Perhaps her expression was too bewildered, for the madman rarely spoke a human sentence, supporting his head leisurely: “Stop looking. You’re still alive.”

Before Yu Lingxi’s confused mind could clear, she heard the deep voice again, pathological yet gentle: “Finish your last words. Why did you want to come back to find this Prince? Hmm?”

She had spoken harsh words, yet hadn’t died.

Yu Lingxi had no defense, and could there be a worse situation than this?