Yu Lingxi had always felt that a person like Ning Yin, who looked down on everything, had no heart.

Even the most wicked people would at least keep themselves in their hearts.

But in Ning Yin’s heart, not even he existed.

Yet when Ning Yin pulled Yu Lingxi’s hand to his chest and asked, “How many people do I keep in here?” she couldn’t answer.

She only knew that, at least in that moment when he leaned close, his eyes—cold and black like a prison—locked onto her alone.

Too much had happened tonight. After returning to her chamber, she tossed and turned half the night without sleeping.

She dozed fitfully for less than two hours, dreaming one moment of her father and brother imprisoned, and the next of Ning Yin’s dark, pressing gaze. Strange visions nearly tore her into two parts.

When she woke, the sky was barely light. Her sister had not yet returned from her surveillance mission.

Yu Lingxi couldn’t sleep anymore. She dressed and sat until daybreak, when a guard finally galloped back, delivering a letter to her.

The letter was hastily written by Yu Xinyi.

She wrote that at the hour of the Tiger, around 3 AM, they had indeed intercepted a carrier pigeon with a secret message from Vice Minister Wang’s mansion. They had found clues about the disaster relief grain and were rushing to investigate.

It wasn’t until the evening of the third day that Yu Xinyi’s second letter reached the mansion.

Yu Lingxi opened the letter too eagerly, cutting her finger on the sharp paper.

Inside were just a few delightful sentences: “Mission accomplished. The disaster relief grain has successfully reached the four counties of Luozhou. Two traitors from the Eastern Palace faction captured alive, to be escorted back to the capital in the coming days.”

Yu Lingxi read it several times, her hand holding the letter slowly falling to her knee as she finally let out a long sigh of relief.

She remembered how in her previous life, her sister had gone north alone to investigate the truth behind their father and brother’s murder, only to meet with an accident on her way back to the capital with evidence. She fell into an abyss with her horse, leaving no remains.

In this life, she absolutely could not repeat the past.

Thinking of this, Yu Lingxi opened the door and called for the guard on duty in the courtyard: “Qinglan, bring me the topographical map of the route from the capital to Luozhou, then gather all guards on duty to await orders.”

After making arrangements, she noticed the wetness between her fingers and a slight pain.

Looking down, she saw that her index finger had been cut by the letter paper, forming a bloody gash. Blood beads congealed on her snow-white fingertip before falling to the ground.

At the same time, fifty miles east of the capital, the only official road to Luozhou wound its way deep into the mountains and forests.

Clouds obscured the moon. The dense forest provided perfect cover, ideal for an ambush.

Through the navy-blue mist, a tall, straight figure walked slowly from the end of the official road, as leisurely as if out for a night stroll, unhurried.

The assassin leader narrowed his eyes and raised his hand, signaling the archers to prepare to shoot.

However, when the figure came within range, he realized it wasn’t the Yu family escorting witnesses, but a black-clad youth whose face couldn’t be seen.

His raised hand froze in midair. Sweat slid down the assassin leader’s temples, soaking into his triangular face covering.

The youth stopped moving. In the misty night, his figure standing with hands behind his back presented an eerie stillness.

After a moment, he turned his face, his cold eyes seeming to pierce through the darkness, accurately meeting the assassin leader’s gaze.

“Keep two alive,”

The youth said with an elegant smile, “Kill the rest.”

The cold gleam of blades flashed, startling birds from the forest.

Blood splattered into the bushes, congealing into a deep purple in the night. The assassins died before they could even cry out.

Only the assassin’s leader remained alive. He cast his bloodshot eyes toward the youth on the road.

This was no leisurely young master out for a stroll, but the King of Hell come to claim lives!

To capture thieves, first, capture their leader—the assassin leader charged out of the dense forest with his sword, thrusting at the youth—

This was his destiny as a death guard of the Eastern Palace. Until the moment of death, he would never retreat or surrender!

“Ugh!”

With the crisp sound of an arm bone breaking, the sword fell to the ground as the assassin was seized by the throat.

He widened his eyes, reaching to pry away the youth’s iron-like arm, but grasped the apricot-white silk ribbon wrapped around his wrist instead.

The smooth silk ribbon came loose. Blown by the night wind, it fluttered up into the air, only to be caught between the youth’s teeth just in time.

The last image the assassin saw was the youth with that apricot-white ribbon between his teeth, his black hair slightly disheveled in the wind, as beautiful as a deity, as ruthless as Asura.

The assassin leader’s corpse was thrown to the ground, a large pool of dark purple blood quickly spreading beneath him.

Ning Yin wiped his hands clean, his gaze falling on the hand that had touched his ribbon. He frowned slightly.

He raised his boot to step on that hand, pressing down hard, grinding it forcefully.

Only after the bones were crushed and the flesh mangled did he take the end of the ribbon between his teeth and wrap it around his left arm, tying a knot.

“Take those still breathing back and clean up thoroughly,” he ordered.

Immediately, subordinates responded, dragging the assassins’ corpses deep into the forest.

The clouds dispersed, and the round moon reflected in a pool of viscous liquid, dyed a gorgeous purple-red.

The capital city remained peaceful through the night.

The next day, the guards Yu Lingxi had sent out successfully rendezvoused with Yu Xinyi.

The captured grain theft witnesses, along with the intercepted secret messages, were sent to the Court of Judicial Review. The evidence pointed directly to the Crown Prince of the Eastern Palace, causing an uproar in court.

Not to mention that this was disaster relief grain meant to save lives—thirty thousand stones of grain would be enough to feed an army rebelling against the palace. For the aged and suspicious Emperor, the fact that the young Crown Prince was already forming factions and engaging in private plots was undoubtedly touching a reverse scale.

The Crown Prince was confined to the Eastern Palace. The Empress, with disheveled hair and bare feet, knelt outside Chengde Hall for an entire afternoon.

Yu Lingxi had no time to consider the court situation.

Her sister’s investigation and evidence gathering had gone too smoothly. If it wasn’t extraordinary luck, it could only be someone assisting from the shadows.

Yu Lingxi could think of only one person with such ability and strategy.

Early summer, with insects chirping in waves. Yu Lingxi wore only a thin summer blouse and skirt, yet still felt unbearably hot.

This heat didn’t feel like external summer heat, but more like a restlessness growing from within her body. Even just sitting, her cheeks would flush with heat in waves.

A few days ago, when the disaster relief grain her brother was transporting ran into trouble, she had been too tense to notice anything else. Now that she could relax, she realized something was wrong with her body.

Yu Lingxi counted the days—only two days remained until the third time the poison would take effect.

She was momentarily stunned, not knowing what to do.

Should she yield like last time?

But if so, what did that make Ning Yin? And what did she mean in Ning Yin’s eyes?

“Miss, what’s wrong with your face?” Hutao entered with tea, examining her flushed complexion.

“It’s nothing.”

Yu Lingxi patted her cheeks to clear her mind, standing up. “It’s too stuffy in here. I’ll go for a walk in the courtyard.”

The evening breeze blew against her face, somewhat reducing the heat.

“Miss seems to have taken a liking to the scenery in the rear courtyard lately,” Hutao remarked casually as she held a lantern to light the way.

Yu Lingxi came to her senses and realized she had unconsciously walked to the outer quarters in the rear courtyard.

Perhaps it was the effect of the drug, but she found herself thinking of Ning Yin more frequently, even to the point where work and personal matters blurred—not a good sign.

Yu Lingxi pressed her lips together and turned, about to take another path, when she heard the creaking of a door opening behind her.

As if sensing her struggle, Ning Yin raised his head from behind the door and called out: “Young Miss.”

Hearing his cool, deep voice, Yu Lingxi’s feet seemed to take root, freezing in place.

After a while, she resignedly closed her eyes and sighed softly.

Dismissing her maid, she turned to face the black-clad youth who slowly descended the steps, saying softly: “The moon is full tonight. Wei Qi, walk with me.”

The white magnolia trees had passed their flowering period. Their sparse shadows crisscrossed, cutting the moonlight into countless mottled patches.

The two walked one after another through the long corridor toward the waterside pavilion in the flower garden.

“Elder Sister has returned safely to the capital. The witnesses who switched the disaster relief grain and the evidence have all been transferred to the Court of Judicial Review.”

Yu Lingxi spoke first, breaking the silence. Her moist, glimmering eyes turned slightly toward Ning Yin, who walked a step behind her side. “Everything went smoothly along the way, clearly showing the protection of a noble person.”

Ning Yin heard the implication in her words and responded coolly, as if uninvolved: “Young Miss need not speak indirectly. I did it for myself.”

He wanted the old bastard and his son to destroy each other. If Yu Xinyi had died and the evidence couldn’t reach the Emperor, this game would have lost its meaning.

Yu Lingxi responded with an “Oh,” smiling gently: “Regardless of who it was for, the purpose is the same.”

Her speech tonight differed from usual—her voice was sweet and soft, her trailing tones as enticing as hooks.

Ning Yin glanced at her crimson ear tips, understanding something, and asked: “Uncomfortable?”

Yu Lingxi stopped walking and looked into his dark, profound eyes. A mix of heat and irrepressible sourness welled up, filled with complex emotions.

After a while, she lowered her gaze and nodded: “A little.”

As soon as she spoke, she felt her wrist tighten as Ning Yin pulled her into the shadow of a rockery, checking her pulse.

His slightly cool fingertips, like clear spring water, counteracted her feverishness.

Yu Lingxi found herself longing to curl her fingers around his, seeking more.

And indeed she did so, touching the back of his hand where tendons protruded, before startling awake and curling her fingers back.

Ning Yin raised an eyebrow, looking at her retracted fingertips: “If you’re uncomfortable, why resist?”

Remembering something, he laughed derisively: “That’s right. Wei Qi ranks below a cat, probably not even qualified to be Young Miss’s instrument.”

Yu Lingxi frowned slightly: “You are a living person. I’ve never treated you as an object.”

If truth be told, perhaps it was because whenever she was about to cross boundaries, she would recall the unequal servitude of her past life, as well as her lonely corpse locked away in a secret chamber.

Because she understood what it felt like to be an “object,” she didn’t want others to become her “objects.”

Even if that person was Ning Yin, whom she had once feared and resented.

Patrolling guards passed by in the distance with lanterns. Moonlight illuminated the stone path, while the water pavilion by the pond scattered silver, scale-like reflections.

“The moon is beautiful tonight.”

Yu Lingxi raised her head to look at the night sky, trying her best not to think about the challenge she would face in two days.

Problems never end—better to enjoy the present peace and beauty.

After some thought, she asked: “Wei Qi, when did you see the most beautiful moon?”

Ning Yin leaned against the rugged rockery. After a while, he glanced at her and said: “Probably the first time I killed someone.”

Yu Lingxi turned her head to look at him in surprise.

Ning Yin seemed to recall a distant past. His profile in the cold moonlight was particularly desolate as he leisurely described: “Hot blood splattered into my eyes, and the moon turned red.”

He laughed briefly, his voice lazy and deep: “Especially beautiful.”

Yu Lingxi couldn’t laugh.

For the first time, she willingly succumbed to the drug’s effects while still clear-headed, hesitantly hooking her hand with Ning Yin’s.

His hand was slightly cool, colder than moonlight.

The scalding blood in his memories couldn’t warm his cold knuckles.

Ning Yin slowly stopped smiling and turned to look at her. His palm hung casually at his side, allowing her to hold it, neither responding nor pulling away.

After a long time, he gave her little finger a gentle squeeze but spoke of a completely unrelated topic.

“Tomorrow, Young Miss should visit Jinyun Temple.”

At the mention of Jinyun Temple, Yu Lingxi couldn’t help but recall the wild events in the secret chamber that day.

She wondered suspiciously: Could Ning Yin know the day was approaching and deliberately want to take her to the secret chamber at Jinyun Temple to revisit what happened last time?

“What is Young Miss imagining?”

A derisive laugh came from above her head as Ning Yin blinked his dark eyes very slowly. “I have news about the poison Young Miss asked me to investigate.”

…

The next day, the weather was fine, with colorful kites flying all over the capital.

Jinyun Temple was crowded with worshippers. Ning Yin skillfully led Yu Lingxi to a side hall.

While other Buddha halls had their doors wide open to alleviate the suffering of all beings, only this one was closed.

Yu Lingxi knew that the answers she sought were inside.

She asked the guards and Hutao to wait in the courtyard, then took a few steps forward.

Seeing Ning Yin standing with his hands behind his back, not moving, she stopped and turned around curiously: “Won’t you come in with me?”

Ning Yin watched her go, saying indifferently: “That’s the answer Young Miss wants. I have no interest.”

Yu Lingxi thought for a moment and said: “Very well.”

She composed herself, took a deep breath to prepare, and then pushed open the heavy hall door.

Sandalwood incense curled upward. The hall was dim, with no Buddha or Bodhisattva statues enshrined, only a thin medicine man standing there.

The medicine man’s profile on one side appeared frail and handsome, but when he turned his burned face to the other side, he looked more ferocious than the angry Vajra stone statue nearby.

Seeing Yu Lingxi, he clenched his fist and coughed softly, speaking in a hoarse, half-dead voice: “It’s been a long time since we parted at Yujie Xiandu.”

The hall door closed, shutting out the courtyard sunlight.

A quarter of an hour later, in the secret chamber beneath the meditation room.

The oil lamp cast a yellow glow, projecting onto the wall the shadows of two corpses hanging in midair, slowly turning like swings.

“Those who ambushed to assassinate the elder Miss Yu on the official road were indeed death guards raised under Cui An. They were extremely tight-lipped. I used some methods, and they confessed everything they should.”

Zhejian knelt on one knee, presenting a bloodstained register with both hands raised above his head.

Ning Yin leaned against a couch, taking the register and casually scanning it.

“The extreme pleasure incense that Your Highness asked me to investigate also has results.”

Zhejian placed a white jade bottle on the table. Seeing Ning Yin not move, he continued: “As Your Highness expected, the Emperor has become suspicious of the Crown Prince. The Imperial Consort Hui successfully gave birth to a prince last night, which will surely reshuffle the court factions.”

“This fire isn’t hot enough yet. It’s not interesting when it just starts to burn.”

Thinking of something, Ning Yin closed the register, leaning forward with his elbow on his knee: “That secret from over twenty years ago should also be mentioned by someone.”

That would be truly entertaining—father wary of son, son killing mother.

After memorizing the names, Ning Yin placed the register on the oil lamp to ignite it.

He languidly twirled his fingers until the fire nearly reached his fingertips, then tossed the register onto the couch, setting the blanket ablaze.

“Burn this place clean.”

Ning Yin’s eyes reflected the dancing flames, both gentle and insane. Rising, he said: “From now on, we probably won’t need it.”

In the side hall.

Warm light slanted in through the window, illuminating the dust particles in the air.

Yu Lingxi looked at the disfigured young medicine man and asked: “Sir, have you truly identified the poison?”

“Young lady, please look.”

The medicine man walked to two porcelain vats with sleeping lotuses, gesturing for Yu Lingxi to look at the two goldfish swimming freely inside.

He took out a medicine bottle and poured half into one of the vats. The light green liquid quickly mixed with the clear water, disappearing without a trace.

After waiting for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the leisurely swimming goldfish began to struggle uncomfortably, stirring the water vat noisily.

After another cup of tea’s time, the goldfish listlessly turned belly-up. Soon after, strands of black blood seeped from its gills.

“I was entrusted to open a coffin and examine a corpse. The woman died vomiting blood, yet the silver needles didn’t change color when inserted. This reminded me of a strange poison.”

The medicine man explained: “Those poisoned initially show no symptoms, then become weak. By the time they notice abdominal pain, it’s already too late to save them… Is that so?”

“Exactly.”

Hearing her manner of death from her previous life, Yu Lingxi couldn’t hide her emotion. She took the bottle from the medicine man’s hand and smelled it.

A faint, familiar bitterness. Her heart sank as she gripped the bottle tightly: “Yes, this is the smell.”

“This poison has a beautiful name, called ‘Hundred Flowers Killer.’ It was originally a strange poison brought into the Central Plains by a surrendered northern tribe. Besides being undetectable, it has another characteristic.”

The medicine man picked up the dead goldfish and placed it in the unpoisoned vat, gesturing for her to watch.

The living fish in the unpoisoned vat swallowed some of the black blood from the dead fish when it opened its mouth. Within the time of two cups of tea, it too weakly turned belly-up.

“This is…”

Yu Lingxi had an ominous premonition.

“If this poison is used on humans, it takes approximately six to twelve hours to take effect. If a poisoned person mingles blood and flesh with another, that person will also be infected with the poison.”

Having immersed himself in herbs for many years, the medicine man’s blue-white face showed excitement as he elaborated on the poison’s ingenuity: “When the previous dynasty’s Emperor Gaozong conquered the northern tribes, the surrendering tribes had beauties take this poison before offering them to Emperor Gaozong. Within days, Emperor Gaozong died. Everyone thought he died of a sudden illness, but that wasn’t the case.”

It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head.

Yu Lingxi pressed her lips together for a while, then asked with difficulty: “You mean…”

The medicine man said: “Indeed, this poison was specially designed for assassination. Not only can imperial physicians not detect it, but it can also kill another person through intimate relations.”

Assassination, intimate relations…

Yu Lingxi’s mind buzzed as if struck by a hammer.

“Sir… are you certain?”

She heard her voice slightly choked.

The medicine man’s expression changed: “If young lady doubts my ability, you shouldn’t have come to me.”

Yu Lingxi felt a chill throughout her body, cold to her fingertips.

Recalling the mouthful of black blood she had spat onto Ning Yin’s robe before dying in her previous life, she felt as if the world had turned upside down.

So that was it. That was the truth.

She had originally thought Zhao Yuming had poisoned her because of Xue Chen, but until this life, Zhao Yuming also died of the same poison. Only then did she vaguely guess that in her previous life, the Zhao family had merely been a pawn of the real culprit behind the scenes.

Yu Lingxi pondered for a long time. In her previous life, she had been alone with no relatives. She couldn’t imagine why her worthless life would be worth an enemy’s elaborate plot to harm her…

But it turned out that she had never been the target.

From beginning to end, she had merely been a tool, calculated by others to assassinate Ning Yin.

Even though Ning Yin’s drug tolerance was abnormal, it couldn’t hide the dirty fact that she had become a sacrifice and an “accomplice.”

Yu Lingxi stared blankly at her trembling fingers, instinctively feeling a twisting pain in her abdomen and inexplicable nausea.

Her chest felt as if pressed by a thousand-pound stone, making even the air seem thin.

She didn’t know how she had walked out of the side hall.

Sunlight drenched her body, hurting her eyes.

Hutao came forward saying something, but she couldn’t hear at all. Her eyes blurred with tears, her ears filled with the sharp roar of tidal waves.

Yu Lingxi walked straight past Hutao, quickening her pace, faster and faster, until finally she simply cast aside all restraint and began to run.

Through the gate arch, across the back courtyard, the wind filled her sleeves. Her lungs hurt as if they would burst, yet she was completely unaware.

She wanted to see Ning Yin, immediately.

A figure walked slowly along the bamboo path. Yu Lingxi stopped in her tracks, breathing deeply like someone drowning.

Wind passed by, rustling the bamboo leaves.

Ning Yin saw her and was somewhat surprised: “Young Miss…”

Their gazes met, and Yu Lingxi’s eyes flashed with fragmented light. Like a long-neglected mechanism suddenly responding, she rushed toward him without regard for anything.

Ning Yin instinctively opened his arms, receiving her fully.

Her skirt bloomed open, and her long, glossy hair rose and fell like clouds. Ning Yin stiffened, feeling the young woman trembling like bamboo leaves in his arms. His hands, suspended in mid-air, finally slowly descended. Hesitantly, he pressed her head closer to his chest.

He thought for a moment, then smiled: “This shouldn’t be right. Today is only the ninth day.”

“Wei Qi…”

Yu Lingxi’s trembling voice came from his embrace, carrying the sound of weeping.

Ning Yin’s gaze darkened, and his playful smile faded.

He raised his hand to lift Yu Lingxi’s chin, staring at her tear-streaked face for a long time before asking: “Who bullied you?”