After the noon banquet, the ladies from various households sat together to keep Princess Imperial De Yang company and relieve her boredom.

When adults discussed matters, they inevitably touched on important affairs that the younger generation should avoid. Yu Lingxi therefore joined the young ladies from other noble families in the peony garden for casual conversation and flower appreciation.

When that strange dizziness surged up, Yu Lingxi’s heart skipped a beat.

Realizing something was wrong, her first reaction was to find Madam Yu, but after just two steps, her body became so weak she could barely hold onto the carved railing of the corridor.

“Oh, what’s happened to Second Miss Yu?”

Someone beside her exclaimed in alarm and supported her limp body.

“Perhaps she drank too much wine.”

“Let’s help her to the side hall to rest for a while. The banquet won’t end for some time yet.”

The world spun around her. Blurry faces surrounded her as someone supported her toward the side hall at the west corner gate.

She couldn’t go to the side hall; she couldn’t leave the crowd.

Yu Lingxi tried to part her lips, wanting to ask those supporting her to take her to Madam Yu, but all her organs seemed paralyzed and wouldn’t obey her commands. She couldn’t make even the slightest sound.

Unable to speak, with limbs weak and powerless, Yu Lingxi wasn’t a fool. She knew she had likely been targeted by someone’s scheme.

She struggled to maintain the last thread of her weak consciousness, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

At the banquet, she had shared the same dishes with her mother. Since her mother showed no discomfort, the problem wasn’t with the food.

Besides that, there was the tea that Xue Chen had brewed for her.

Thinking she found the tea too bland, and knowing her love for spicy flavors, Xue Chen had thoughtfully brought a stronger brew and taken some pepper powder and preserved plums that he carried with him from his table, adding a couple to her teacup.

Then Princess Imperial De Yang had arrived, and everyone had toasted to her birthday.

With the cloud of a potential imperial marriage hanging over her, Yu Lingxi had been extremely cautious. The wine cups had been presented uniformly by the Princess Imperial’s maids, one for each person. During the toast, Yu Lingxi had only symbolically taken a small sip…

Could this have been where the problem occurred?

The bustle of the crowd was fading away, replaced by an unfamiliar, desolate quietness.

Yu Lingxi bit her lip. There was no use thinking about these things now.

What mattered was that someone had dared to target her in the Princess Imperial’s residence. What did they intend to do?

She was brought into an elegant, quiet bedchamber and placed on a soft, fragrant couch. Someone even carefully covered her with a brocade quilt before quietly closing the door and leaving.

A moment later, the faint sound of a door opening came, and a familiar but blurry figure entered.

Then her strained consciousness snapped, and darkness enveloped her as she completely lost awareness.

A pair of embroidered shoes stopped before her couch.

Zhao Yuming wore a plain veil, with eyes outside the veil that appeared timid and gentle. Only upon careful examination could one see the jealousy and resentment growing wildly in the depths of those eyes.

She clutched her sleeves tightly and went to lie down on the guest couch parallel to Yu Lingxi’s.

Taking a deep breath, she feigned dizziness and called out, “Someone, please come.”

A palace maid pushed open the door and curtseyed. “Miss Zhao, what can I do for you?”

“My old illness has returned. I’m truly dizzy and weak. Fearing I might spoil the Princess Imperial’s mood, I won’t go to bid farewell,” Zhao Yuming said weakly. “Please call someone else to quietly help me to the west corner gate, where my elder brother can take me home to take medicine and rest.”

“Very well, Miss Zhao. Please wait a moment,” the palace maid replied. Seeing how genuinely uncomfortable and weak she appeared, the maid hurriedly left to find help.

As soon as the maid left, Zhao Yuming quickly slipped off the couch, swiftly lifting Yu Lingxi onto her couch. She removed her veil to cover Yu Lingxi’s face and took down all the hairpins that could identify Yu Lingxi’s status.

Yu Lingxi still wore an extremely light and soft gauze shawl, a style that Zhao Yuming had coveted for a long time but couldn’t afford.

She pulled that shawl off too, replacing it with her own old purple silk shawl.

The two women had very similar clothing and figures. Simply by covering Yu Lingxi’s naturally beautiful face and making slight adjustments to her hairpins, strangers could hardly tell the difference between them.

Footsteps sounded outside. Zhao Yuming panicked and quickly slipped onto the inner couch, lying down and facing the wall, pretending to be Yu Lingxi.

The palace maid had only seen Zhao Yuming and Yu Lingxi once and indeed didn’t notice anything amiss. She vaguely remembered that the one with the veil lying in the outer area was Miss Zhao and the one without a veil and with beautiful features was Second Miss Yu.

So without much thought, she helped Yu Lingxi, mistaking her for Zhao Yuming, and led her away.

Zhao Yuming listened to their footsteps fade away before daring to open her eyes and exhale deeply.

Now, everything depended on Zhao Xu.

This plan had been Zhao Xu’s idea. She didn’t know how Zhao Xu intended to ruin the marriage between Yu Lingxi and Xue Chen, but in any case… it wasn’t her concern.

Zhao Yuming curled up on the couch with her back to the door, biting her fingertip and thinking: The palace maid had mistaken the person on her own, and she had only told a small, harmless lie.

Who told Yu Lingxi to be better than her in every way?

Who told even the pure and noble Second Young Master Xue to have eyes only for her?

Just as she was thinking, a shadow suddenly loomed behind her. Someone was tiptoeing toward her.

Having just done something unconscionable, Zhao Yuming turned sharply, only to see a cloth pressed against her mouth and nose, stifling her cry in her throat.

Zhao Yuming stared wide-eyed at the two young eunuchs before her, making two muffled sounds. Soon, her violent struggling gradually stopped, and she closed her eyes—filled with indignation and terror—as her head fell limply to one side.

In the fleeting moment before her consciousness dispersed, she heard one of the eunuchs’ muffled voices: “This is Second Miss Yu, right? Don’t make a mistake.”

“It can’t be wrong. We’ve been following for so long; only two young ladies entered the side hall,” answered another voice, high and thin. “Miss Zhao was unwell and was escorted out of the residence. So who else could be left here besides the Second Miss of the Yu family?”

“Tsk,” the first voice continued. “This face looks quite like the one in the portrait. It can’t be wrong. She’s quite a beauty; no wonder the Crown Prince is so obsessed with tasting her…”

Second Miss… Yu?

Zhao Yuming desperately wanted to scream and tell them they had the wrong person.

She had endured humiliation for so long, but not to become Yu Lingxi’s scapegoat! She had someone in her heart, and she would rather die than be defiled by another man!

But before she could make a sound, she completely lost consciousness.

Only a single tear seeped from the corner of her eye, whether of regret or hatred, no one could tell.

“Stop talking! While no one’s around, quickly send her to the Crown Prince,” ordered one of the eunuchs.

They wrapped the woman in a brocade quilt and carried her out through the back door.

…

At the corner gate’s rear courtyard, Ning Yin, dressed in an amber eunuch’s robe, emerged from a cave in the rockery.

In the shadows of the cave, a small eunuch stripped of his clothes leaned against the stone wall, already unconscious.

Expressionless, Ning Yin kicked the eunuch’s feet further inside before picking up a fruit tray from the ground and blending into the passing procession of internal attendants.

At the corner gate, two palace maids were helping a veiled woman into the Zhao family’s carriage. As Ning Yin passed by the gate, he caught a glimpse of a skirt hem being pushed into the carriage, along with a delicate, beautiful foot tip.

Lotus-thread embroidered shoes—they looked familiar, not something a woman from the Zhao family could afford.

Zhao Xu, limping on one leg, vigilantly glanced around before leaping onto the carriage, which quickly departed.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Ning Yin, showing no emotion, continued walking inward.

In Princess Imperial De Yang’s residence, there was only one secluded place where no one could go—the quiet room behind the Buddhist shrine.

A living person couldn’t be smuggled out of the residence past the imperial guards. With Ning Tan’s lustful nature, if he truly wanted to do something unsavory, he would choose that quiet room.

On the shaded stone path in front of the Buddhist shrine, sure enough, two eunuchs were furtively carrying a human-shaped bundle.

Ning Yin concealed himself behind a doorway, looking at the woman’s hair bun exposed beneath the brocade covering, his gaze turning cold.

He hooked a small stone with his toe, caught it in his hand, and flicked it with his finger.

The eunuch at the back felt a sharp pain in his ankle and suddenly cried out, “Ow!” as he fell to the ground.

The brocade covering loosened, and a woman in a crabapple dress rolled out, lying face up.

Upon seeing the woman’s features, the murderous intent in Ning Yin’s eyes paused.

That was not Yu Lingxi.

“Be careful!”

The other eunuch hurriedly wrapped the woman back in the covering and scolded, “The Crown Prince is extremely particular about women. If she’s damaged, we’re finished!”

The two lifted the human-shaped bundle again and sneaked into the quiet room behind the Buddhist shrine.

Tsk, had they mistaken the person?

Ning Yin leaned against the wall, slowly turning the blade between his fingers that he had nearly used.

Where could the real Yu Lingxi be? Could she have escaped?

Suddenly, the scene at the corner gate flashed through his mind, and Ning Yin sharply raised his eyes.

The playfulness in his eyes gradually settled, transforming into a boundless, cruel darkness.

He turned and walked quickly toward the corner gate, startling a lion cat sunbathing beneath a banana plant.

The lion cat wore an expensive golden bell around its neck—the lost pet of some noble lady attending the banquet.

Ning Yin stopped in his tracks as an interesting plan began to form in his mind.

If he didn’t return a grand gift to Ning Tan, how could he repay him for the elaborate trap he had set for Yu Lingxi?

He reached out to grab the lion cat by the scruff of its neck. With a few agile leaps, he climbed the wall and flipped onto the roof of the quiet room.

His footfalls were light, not disturbing the Crown Prince who was waiting inside with growing impatience. He placed the trembling lion cat on a conspicuous spot on the roof ridge of the quiet room.

With the bait set, the show was ready to begin.

Although he wanted to stay and watch this good show, there were more important matters to attend to now.

Would the Young Miss cry if no one came to save her?

How pitiful.

The young man thought absent-mindedly, yet unconsciously quickened his pace, following the direction where the Zhao family’s carriage had disappeared.

…

The carriage bumped and shook, helping Yu Lingxi recover a thread of consciousness from her foggy sleep.

She bit her tongue, tasting the metallic flavor of fresh blood.

The intense pain cleared her mind a little more, but her limbs still felt like mud, impossible to move. Forget about shifting position—even lifting a finger was an effort.

Stay calm; this was the time when panic would be most dangerous.

She bit her lip, concentrating first on her fingertips until they could move slightly with great difficulty, then on her palm, her wrist…

She slowed her breathing, closed her eyes, and carefully memorized every shout, and every smell outside the carriage.

Meanwhile, she searched her memory, gradually visualizing the map of the capital in her mind.

Within less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the noise faded away, replaced by a different kind of quietness. She could only hear the sound of wheels rolling over bluestone bricks.

Once her arms and neck could barely move, Yu Lingxi laboriously rubbed her hair bun against the carriage wall.

After much effort, until her hair bun became disheveled, a silver hairpin finally fell from her hair.

Her other ornamental hairpins were missing, but it didn’t matter. One silver hairpin was enough.

Gripping the sharp silver hairpin in her palm had already exhausted all her strength, soaking her undergarments with sweat.

The carriage stopped. Yu Lingxi immediately hid the hairpin in her sleeve and pretended to be still unconscious.

Outside the carriage, two or three people approached. Among them was someone whose footsteps alternated between light and heavy, like a lame person.

Yu Lingxi’s heart immediately chilled.

If only one person had targeted her, she might have had a chance to fight. But there were three people, and she had already spent too much energy just retrieving her hairpin. Her arms were still weak and sore. There was no chance of winning if she resisted now.

She couldn’t act impulsively.

Her father had taught her that in critical moments, one must remain calm, look for weaknesses, and defeat the enemy with a single move.

Yu Lingxi held her breath, waiting for an opportunity, the hairpin in her sleeve nearly piercing her palm.

…

In front of the storehouse, Zhao Xu stood facing two scantily clad Daoist priestesses.

“To prevent her from escaping, after I enter the storehouse with this woman, lock the door from outside,” Zhao Xu instructed.

He tossed a money pouch to one of the priestesses and continued, “Someone will come tonight to catch us in the act. When that happens, open the storehouse door. Make sure everyone present sees the scene inside. As for the rest, you don’t need to concern yourself.”

Zhao Xu threw Yu Lingxi onto the only wooden couch in the storehouse.

Hidden in the darkness, he coldly stared at the young woman’s face, as delicate and exquisite as a lotus flower.

He had to admit that this woman indeed had an extremely beautiful face. But so what?

In his heart, his foster sister was the bright moon in the sky, the light that had pulled him back from the gates of hell when he was near death. Yu Lingxi couldn’t compare to even a strand of Zhao Yuming’s hair.

But his status meant he could never have Yuming.

If that was the case, he might as well let this woman be Yuming’s substitute before she died.

Who told her to allow her servant to pull him off his horse, making him a cripple for life? Who told her to constantly suppress Yuming, even taking away what Yuming loved most…

Zhao Xu’s face twisted as he lit the incense burner on the table, deeply inhaling the sweet, cloying fragrance before reaching out toward Yu Lingxi’s face.

He would destroy everything.

Hatred made Zhao Xu overlook the young woman’s gradually tensing form and the cold gleam emerging from her sleeve.

His fingers had not yet touched Yu Lingxi’s face when a human shadow flashed past the door.

Zhao Xu alertly withdrew his hand, stood up, and listened for a moment before pressing the sword at his waist and walking out of the storehouse.

A young man dressed as an internal attendant in amber robes sat on a stone table in the courtyard. One leg bent with his foot on the edge of the table, he was playing with a gleaming short blade in his hand.

Zhao Xu immediately recognized this young man.

During the spring hunt, this person had pulled him off his horse with one hand, throwing him into a ditch and turning him into a useless cripple.

Hatred burned in his eyes as he said in a sinister voice, “It’s you. What are you doing here?”

The young man curved his lips in a smile, though the smile never reached his eyes. “I’ve come to take something.”

Though he was smiling, Zhao Xu suddenly felt a chill down his spine.

“What thing?”

“Your dog’s life.”

A piercing cold wind suddenly rose. The ripples on the lotus pond in the courtyard gradually settled back to calmness.

A crimson stain rose from the bottom of the pond, slowly diffusing into the water waves before disappearing completely clean.

Ning Yin opened the storehouse door, wiped his fingers clean, and walked toward the couch.

Seeing Yu Lingxi with flushed cheeks, still unconscious on the couch, his gaze suddenly darkened. He began to regret letting Zhao Xu die too easily.

He should have torn out his tongue and then crushed his bones inch by inch while he was still alive.

Sweet, cloying incense burned on the table—one sniff revealed its indecent nature.

He walked to Yu Lingxi’s couch and had just reached out to extinguish the incense when a cold gleam shot toward him fiercely.

Ning Yin instinctively raised his hand to block it, grasping the silver hairpin that had been thrust at him with all its might.

Tsk, how fierce.

If not for his quick reaction, or if it had been Zhao Xu instead, that thrust would probably have pierced through his neck.

That forceful strike had already exhausted all her strength.

Yu Lingxi gasped for breath, her watery eyes showing a moment of bewilderment when she saw Ning Yin’s face.

She stared at him in silence, the hand holding the hairpin still trembling slightly, her gaze fixed unblinkingly on Ning Yin.

Her stare made the normally unyielding young madman lower his eyelashes as he asked, “Is the Young Miss disappointed by such a sight?”

Then, he curved his lips in an inexplicable sneer, nodding to himself. “It’s not Qing Xiao who came, nor some Young Prince. Instead, it’s a vicious villain like me. Indeed, you should be disappointed…”

The silver hairpin slipped from her hand, clattering to the ground.

“Wei Qi…”

The young woman’s voice trembled, her eyes dancing with slightly dazed sparkles, clearly showing no trace of disgust or disappointment.

The rapidly breathing young woman’s body went soft as if boneless, giving way, then suddenly falling into Ning Yin’s arms, completely silencing his mockery.

At the same time, with an unexpected clang, the storehouse’s only door was firmly closed and locked from the outside.

The confined space instantly plunged into darkness, with only the sound of two alternating breaths audible.

The scantily clad Daoist priestess tucked the storehouse key into her bosom and walked away, yawning.