A strand of hair fell from her shoulder as Yu Lingxi maintained her bowing posture, her figure outlined by the bright lamplight.

This bow was one she ought to return.

In her previous life, living in constant fear, she once believed Ning Yin’s existence was more frightening than evil spirits. Yet ironically, after her rebirth, as conspiracies and schemes followed one after another, those two years in the Regent Prince’s mansion from her previous life now seemed like a rare period of “peace.”

More frightening than evil spirits would always be human hearts.

Perhaps in her previous life, a true madman like Ning Yin was far more forthright than hypocrites.

Glancing down through the gap in her sleeve, she could faintly see those deerskin boots standing before her, motionless for a long time.

But Yu Lingxi could feel his cool gaze drifting down to her shoulder, probing and scrutinizing.

She waited quietly.

Until fair, strong fingers rested upon her bandaged palm, gentle yet irresistible, pressing down her sleeve-covered hands that were raised to her eyebrows.

“The young lady is the master, I am but a servant. Why would you need to thank me?”

Ning Yin bent slightly, his eyes no longer showing the cold and murderous intent from before, replaced instead with some inscrutable interest.

Yu Lingxi dared not say that the current Ning Yin was hardly better than the Crown Prince. The obvious difference was that he had never harmed the Yu family.

For Yu Lingxi, this one point was enough.

“Today, when trapped in the storehouse, Zhao Xu had prepared people to catch us in adultery. You could have done nothing, and before my shame was exposed to everyone, my reputation would have been completely ruined…”

Speaking of this matter, Yu Lingxi found it somewhat difficult to articulate, and her voice lowered.

With Ning Yin’s clever calculations, he couldn’t possibly know what letting her go meant.

As an exiled prince intent on revenge, he couldn’t possibly covet the power of the General’s mansion.

Yet he still chose to act as he did.

Yu Lingxi spoke softly but firmly: “I must thank you for not letting me die in disgrace.”

When she said “die,” she pronounced it lightly, yet inadvertently stirred ripples in Ning Yin’s deadened heart.

He had thought she was a fool, but unexpectedly, her heart was as clear as a mirror.

Ning Yin suddenly smiled, slowly narrowing his beautiful eyes. “Since the young lady understands this, how can a mere word of thanks be enough?”

He conveyed half-genuine, half-false greed, like a beast tired of lying dormant, sharpening its teeth in anticipation.

Yu Lingxi showed not the slightest fear; even her lips curved into a clean, gentle arc as she asked, “Then, Wei Qi, what do you want?”

The smile halted as Ning Yin stopped speaking.

He realized Yu Lingxi was trying to trap him with words. He didn’t answer, only slowly straightened up and said leisurely, “Actually, I’ve always been curious why the young lady never asks about my past?”

Ning Yin was a ruthless and vigilant person. Yu Lingxi naturally couldn’t rashly expose his identity. After thinking, she countered, “If I asked, would you tell me?”

Ning Yin looked at her askance, asking with a half-smile, “If I told you, it would mean death. Would the young lady still want to hear?”

“Then forget it.”

Yu Lingxi knew when to stop, without a trace of persistent annoyance. “When you want to tell me, it won’t be too late.”

It would be impossible to tell.

Ning Yin chewed the words to pieces between his teeth. Unless either he or the Yu family would die.

The heavy clouds dispersed, revealing a glimpse of the moon at the edge of the sky.

Each harboring their thoughts, Yu Lingxi broke the silence again: “However, I am curious. Today I saw your martial skills are not bad, so why couldn’t you defeat those few assassins back at Yujie Xiandu?”

Given his normal abilities, it seemed unlikely he would have had both legs broken.

Ning Yin’s lips twitched, asking, “Does the young lady suspect I was deliberately acting pitiful?”

Yu Lingxi thought for a moment, then shook her head: “No.”

Ning Yin couldn’t have known beforehand that she would appear there, so the possibility of him putting on an act was small. Besides, in her previous life, Ning Yin had truly broken his left leg.

Just when Yu Lingxi thought Ning Yin wouldn’t speak, his emotionless voice came: “I was betrayed, wounded in the arena, and the knife wound had a deadly poison.”

The long-sealed darkness seemed to have been pried open a crack. As light poured in, it also allowed her to glimpse the shocking truth.

What kind of life had Ning Yin lived before?

“What expression is that, young lady?” Ning Yin languidly interrupted her thoughts.

“An expression of distress,” Yu Lingxi raised her clear eyes, not attempting to hide her emotions.

The mockery in Ning Yin’s eyes slightly diminished as he gazed at her for a long while without speaking.

“I accept the young lady’s thanks.”

After a long time, Ning Yin said calmly, “Now, the young lady should return to rest.”

The lanterns in the corridor gradually dimmed; it was indeed very late.

Yu Lingxi nodded and said, “Alright.”

She turned and took two steps, then remembered something and halted.

“Wei Qi,” Yu Lingxi called.

Ning Yin responded with a neutral “Mm.”

“Your story is not yet finished.”

She stood in the dwindling lamplight and looked back, asking, “What was the ending for the little wolf and his mother?”

She still remembered the wolf kingdom story he had made up in the storehouse today.

Ning Yin stood in place. The wind-blocking bamboo blinds in the corridor cast shadows across his brow and eyes, leaving only a sliver of light passing through the gaps, narrowly reflected in the depths of his dark pupils.

He rubbed his fingertips, seeming to seriously ponder this question.

“The little wolf’s mother probably plunged a dagger into her own heart. Then the little wolf lived out his life in loneliness and pain.”

Ning Yin held back a laugh in his throat and asked in return, “In stories, don’t all mothers do this?”

For some reason, Yu Lingxi couldn’t see any trace of humor in his eyes, only cold ridicule.

In her previous life, Ning Yin had personally destroyed everything related to his past, leaving not a single word, including his mother, Concubine Li.

So, had Concubine Li suffered in her son’s place, leaving the hope of life to Ning Yin?

Yu Lingxi couldn’t guess, feeling something was missing.

“No, it shouldn’t end like that.”

Yu Lingxi raised her calm eyes, speaking softly but seriously, “The little wolf will experience many things and meet many kind people. He will gradually become strong, intelligent, and invincible.”

This was the ending she chose for the little wolf.

Tonight was the best opportunity, suitable for candid exchange.

Without a trace of gloom in her eyes, Yu Lingxi gazed at the silently unresponsive Ning Yin for a long time before finally pressing her lips into a smile and saying, “I’ve said before, the Yu mansion is not an arena, and we are not enemies. This promise always holds.”

The wind shook loose the remaining red blossoms from the branches, which fell gently to the ground.

Ning Yin found it laughable—whom could Yu Lingxi speak for?

But he couldn’t laugh. Reason told him he should promptly strangle anything that might shake his resolve.

Yet at this moment, he found himself somewhat greedy for this “always.”

Yu Lingxi returned to her room, unconcerned about Ning Yin’s response.

Even if he remained cautious and heartless, as long as the stakes she offered were great enough and sincere enough, he would have no reason to refuse.

Thinking of this, Yu Lingxi’s eyes lit up with a relaxed smile.

In tonight’s corridor conversation, she had tested Ning Yin’s boundaries regarding his past many times. The fact that he hadn’t, as in her previous life, gripped her neck with murderous intent was already a great victory.

What she sought could not be rushed.

…

By April, the fragrant blossoms had all fallen, and the greenery gradually thickened.

In a few days, it would be the Buddha Bathing Festival. Yu Lingxi laid out paper at her desk and ground ink, preparing to copy scriptures for blessings.

For some reason, she felt the weather was stuffy and hot, and her mind somewhat restless.

Just as she put brush to paper, she saw Yu Xinyi rush in with a sword, saying, “That wretch Zhao Xu is dead.”

His death was extremely miserable and horrifying.

Yu Lingxi’s eyelashes flickered slightly as she calmly asked, “What happened?”

“Don’t know. His corpse was found lying in a ravine behind Fuyun Temple, only discovered this morning. Could it be he killed himself out of fear of punishment?”

Yu Xinyi took a sip of tea and murmured, “But if he killed himself out of fear, how did his tendons and bones end up shattered, his face completely disfigured?”

Yu Lingxi paused with her brush, the ink spreading into a blot on the rice paper.

Without showing any reaction, she replaced the paper and said, “If he hadn’t done so many evil deeds with a guilty conscience, he wouldn’t have met such an end.”

“That’s true. Death is too merciful for him.”

Yu Xinyi slapped her sword on the desk, “If he had fallen into my hands, I would have made him wish for death.”

As she spoke, the wind gusted in through the window, causing the pages on the desk to rustle loudly.

Yu Xinyi glanced at her sister in her light dress and softened her voice, saying, “It’s gloomy and windy today. Why are you dressed so thinly, Suisui?”

She ordered Hutao to bring an outer garment, lest she catch cold.

“Sister, don’t you feel the weather is quite hot these days?” Yu Lingxi looked at Yu Xinyi in her three layers of clothing, her eyes full of confusion.

“How?”

Yu Xinyi looked up at the weather outside. She didn’t think so.

When had her usually frail sister become so fond of the cool?

Forced by her sister to put on a large-sleeved robe, Yu Lingxi’s cheeks flushed with heat. She decided to move her writing materials to the cool, breezy waterside pavilion to continue copying scriptures.

Since the copying would take quite some time and she preferred quiet, she dismissed all the serving maids standing by, allowing them to go rest.

After writing just two pages, she heard steady, light footsteps behind her, followed by a shadow looming over her head.

Yu Lingxi thought it was a maid returning and set down her brush, saying, “There’s no need for attendance here. You may go.”

The person behind her remained silent.

After a while, a familiar, indifferent voice came, saying leisurely, “The young lady’s brush is quite exquisite.”

Yu Lingxi turned around to see Ning Yin standing behind her with his hands clasped behind his back, looking at her beautifully written script.

He seemed to have just bathed, his hair not fully tied up in a topknot, but with half of it falling from the back of his head, looking extremely casual and noble, just like in her previous life.

Yu Lingxi looked at him for a moment before returning her gaze to the white jade purple-bristle brush resting on the brush holder.

“It was a gift from Young Master Xue.”

Yu Lingxi spoke without much thought, “If you like it, I can give you one as well later.”

Ning Yin neither agreed nor disagreed, only his smile deepened slightly, carrying a coolness.

He leaned down, his arm with its protective wristband passing by Yu Lingxi’s ear as he picked up the paperweight nearby to smooth out the rice paper for her inch by inch.

As he bent over, a strand of hair from behind his ear fell from his shoulder—cool and soft—brushing across Yu Lingxi’s slender white neck.

Ning Yin’s hair was very beautiful.

Unlike his pale and hard demeanor, his hair was black and soft, unusually beautiful for a man.

“How dare I covet what belongs to the young lady.”

The wind picked up, and somehow, whether intentional or not, that exquisitely carved white jade purple-bristle brush rolled off the desk, fell to the ground and broke into two pieces.

Ning Yin’s eyes flickered as he glanced at the broken brush and said softly, “My mistake. I’ll compensate the young lady with a new one later.”

His mouth said “My mistake,” but the corners of his lips were turned upward, without a trace of remorse.

Yu Lingxi didn’t lament the loss of the precious jade brush; instead, she stared at the strand of hair hanging from Ning Yin’s head. The spot on her neck where the hair had brushed felt cool at first, then burned hot.

Ning Yin disliked incense, yet Yu Lingxi seemed to smell an enticing…

Not a fragrance, she couldn’t describe it.

Yu Lingxi was stunned for a moment, the scriptures she had been memorizing completely forgotten. As if possessed, she did something she had always wanted to do in her previous life but never dared.

She grasped that strand of black hair hanging from Ning Yin, twirled it around her white, rosy-tinged fingertips, twirled it again, then looked up with a smile and said, “Wei Qi’s hair is very beautiful.”

The large hand that had been smoothing the paperweight for her froze slightly.