At the end of the Hai hour, Yu Huanchen returned alone under the cover of night.

Su Wan immediately stood up, approached him anxiously, and asked: “Husband, have you found Suisui?”

Yu Huanchen’s expression was grave as he shook his head: “Yu Xinyi is still leading the guards in the search. How are things with Father and Mother?”

“Mother heard rumors and her old illness relapsed. She barely fell asleep after taking some medicine,” Su Wan poured him a cup of tea and said softly, “Father went to the Metropolitan Government Office and hasn’t returned yet.”

Yu Huanchen took the teacup and nodded thoughtfully.

Villains openly attempted assassination at Yongning Bridge on a military official’s carriage, yet the patrol officers responsible for maintaining the capital’s safety arrived late and hastily concluded it was a revenge killing by northern barbarians—it seemed too rushed and suspicious…

Unless someone from above had given instructions.

Yu Huanchen had examined the weapons and blades used by the assassins; all were coated with deadly poison. His sister had been wounded in the arm and taken away by Wei Qi for two hours now, her fate unknown.

As he was thinking, he suddenly realized his wife beside him had been quiet for a long time.

Yu Huanchen looked to the side and saw Su Wan sitting behind the table with her head down, the tip of her nose red, and her ten slender fingers nearly tearing her handkerchief to shreds.

Yu Huanchen leaned closer, looking at her tear-filled eyes, and asked uncomfortably: “What’s wrong?”

Seeing him suddenly lean close, Su Wan quickly turned away, wiping her eyes, and said guiltily: “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t asked Suisui to leave the residence, she wouldn’t have been injured…”

Her voice choked, and she lowered her head even more, only her slightly trembling chin visible.

Yu Huanchen felt as if he had been struck by a blade. His fingers curled slightly as he awkwardly wiped away his wife’s tears.

“If anyone is to blame, it’s me,” Yu Huanchen explained. “I shouldn’t have let you take my carriage out.”

Now they could only hope that Wei Qi would treat his sister well.

…

When Yu Lingxi awoke, it was the deep of night.

The red gauze canopy and floral candlesticks that greeted her eyes made her momentarily disoriented.

If not for the neatly bandaged arrow wound on her arm that still ached, she might have thought she was still in a dream from her previous life.

Perhaps the poison had been neutralized; Yu Lingxi’s thoughts were exceptionally clear. Turning her head slightly, she saw Ning Yin had changed into a snow-white robe and was sitting cross-legged in a chair beside the bed, resting with his eyes closed, supporting his temple.

Accustomed to seeing him in dark military attire, this sudden change in style gave him the handsome appearance of a mountain deity. The lamplight cast upon his profile revealed a straight nose and pale lips. His thick eyelashes were lightly closed, covering those excessively cold, frost-like eyes, softening his entire person.

Memories from before she fainted gradually surfaced. Yu Lingxi remembered saying many delirious things and recalled Ning Yin’s dark red eyes.

Had he been watching over her like this the whole time?

Yu Lingxi’s heart stirred, and her gaze softened.

Just as she was about to look longer, his thin lips parted, and he said slowly: “If Miss has the strength to steal glances, it seems the recovery is going well.”

As he spoke, Ning Yin opened his eyes, revealing a pair of eyes darker than the night.

Yu Lingxi suspected he must have a third eye.

She endured the pain to sit up slightly and looked around, asking: “Where is this place?”

“A brothel,” Ning Yin replied.

Yu Lingxi blinked. The bedding slipped powerlessly from her chest, revealing the almost transparent thin gauze undergarment. The red canopy above was boldly embroidered with an erotic scene of a naked man and woman intertwined…

Yu Lingxi averted her gaze, but her small reaction didn’t escape Ning Yin’s eyes.

He raised an eyebrow: “Although the things here are somewhat bold, they are clean.”

“Then these clothes…”

“The clothes were naturally changed by me for Miss,” Ning Yin’s lips curved almost imperceptibly. “Others’ hands are dirty and not worthy of serving Miss.”

Yu Lingxi couldn’t comprehend it, not out of embarrassment, but because she couldn’t imagine Ning Yin, who would trample the world under his feet, with what kind of mindset he would serve someone else by changing their clothes and untying their sashes.

He had never deigned to do such things before.

The thin fabric on her body seemed to gain heat. She uttered, “Oh,” and said, “Thank you.”

But this inadvertently moved her injured arm, causing her to hiss in pain.

Ning Yin frowned, rose to grab an embroidered pillow to place behind her waist, and then opened the door to give some instructions to someone waiting outside.

When he returned with a bowl of medicine, he saw Yu Lingxi frowning, kneeling and leaning forward, searching for something on the bed.

Ning Yin’s gaze followed her soft black cascading hair downward, lingering briefly at the hollow of her waist, before moving forward to press her back to sit properly on the bed, asking: “What are you looking for?”

“Where’s my jade?” Yu Lingxi clutched the bedding, enduring the pain from her wound as she gestured the size. “The one in the sandalwood box earlier, that piece of black jade material.”

What precious thing could be worth her such concern?

Recalling how she had clutched that box, unable to swim, Ning Yin stirred the medicine with a porcelain spoon and said coolly: “Lost.”

“Ah…” Yu Lingxi sighed lightly, unable to hide her regret. “That jade was meant as a gift for you.”

The hand stirring the porcelain spoon paused slightly.

“But it doesn’t matter, next time I’ll give you something even better.”

Surviving after a calamity was the greatest fortune; Yu Lingxi didn’t dwell on such losses.

She looked at the bowl of dark brown medicine in Ning Yin’s hand, swallowed, and finally extended her uninjured right hand, obediently saying: “Let me do it myself.”

Her fingertips were slender and white, glowing with a jade-like luster in the candlelight.

What need for other jade?

Ning Yin slightly raised his eyebrows: wasn’t the best jade right before his eyes?

He ignored Yu Lingxi’s extended right hand, methodically scooped a spoonful of medicine, blew on it to cool it slightly, and brought it to her lips.

Yu Lingxi was surprised, then smiled faintly: “There’s no one else here, Your Highness needn’t do this.”

Ning Yin’s eyes flicked upward.

Then, seeming to remember something, he nodded: “I forgot, Miss doesn’t like me feeding with my hand, I should use another method.”

With that, he made a show of withdrawing the porcelain spoon and bringing it to his mouth.

He deliberately misinterpreted her meaning, leaving Yu Lingxi helpless.

She had no choice but to lean forward and bite his spoon, quickly swallowing the bitter medicine.

Because her sudden movement was too hasty, some medicine spilled, dripping from Yu Lingxi’s lips onto Ning Yin’s lower garment, spreading two spots of light brown dampness.

The deepest part of Ning Yin’s dark eyes rippled faintly as he used his sleeve to wipe the corner of her mouth.

“Hey, don’t dirty your clothes,” Yu Lingxi tried to avoid him, but seeing Ning Yin’s eyes darken, she obediently stayed still.

Ning Yin slowly wiped the corner of her mouth, saying casually: “Miss’s mouth isn’t dirty.”

He had tasted it before—it was sweet and soft.

After wiping her mouth, he resumed feeding her medicine.

Yu Lingxi looked at Ning Yin as if seeing him for the first time, staring without blinking, forgetting even the bitterness of the medicine.

She had always feared bitterness; previously, when taking medicine, she would pinch her nose and gulp it down in one go. Now, being fed spoonful by spoonful by Ning Yin, though difficult, didn’t feel so difficult.

Whether it was an illusion or not, she felt Ning Yin’s temper was extraordinarily good at this moment.

However, remembering his profound thoughts—the calmer he appeared, the more out of control he was inside—she feared he was suppressing something without revealing it.

While she worried for a long time, Ning Yin thought she was complaining about the bitterness, so he took a preserved fruit from a small dish nearby and placed it between her bitter lips.

Yu Lingxi froze, holding the preserved fruit in her mouth, the sweetness spreading from the tip of her tongue to the bottom of her heart.

She hugged her knees, letting her three thousand strands of black hair fall from her shoulders, quietly savoring the sweetness of the moment.

“Do you know the identity of the assassins?” Ning Yin took a handkerchief, slowly wiping the sugar stain from his fingertips.

Hearing this, Yu Lingxi recalled the circumstances before and after the assassination attempt.

When blocked on the bridge, the disguised assassins had been secretly observing the Yu family carriage. Later, during the attack, the lead assassin seemed to hesitate for a moment upon seeing her and Su Wan.

“We were riding in my brother’s court carriage. The assassins must have mistaken us for my brother,” Yu Lingxi thought for a moment and said, “There are many who fear my brother at court, but those capable of mobilizing such skilled assassins for a street attack are few.”

Those daring to act so brazenly must rely on imperial protection.

Ning Yin laughed, thinking she wasn’t too foolish after all.

He casually tossed the handkerchief on the table and lowered his gaze: “It’s just past the Zi hour, sleep a bit more.”

Yu Lingxi pulled herself from her thoughts, shaking her head: “I just woke up, I’m not sleepy yet.”

“Cleansing poison requires rest. The medicine contains calming herbs.”

Ning Yin leaned forward, gently covering her eyes with his hand, his voice soft and deep: “Close your eyes.”

With her vision darkened, Yu Lingxi’s eyelashes trembled nervously against his palm. After a moment, drowsiness indeed washed over her.

She very slowly closed her eyes, and before long, her breathing became deep and even as she fell into sweet dreams.

Once she was sound asleep, Ning Yin gradually released his hand and tucked it in the corner of her blanket.

Then he rose and pushed open the door to leave.

The moment he stepped out of the warm light, the faint light in Ning Yin’s eyes extinguished with it, diffusing into a frost-cold depth.

The indigo mist dispersed, stars and moon without light. In the quiet, thick night, Zhejun had already led his subordinates to kneel at the foot of the stairs, waiting.

…

At the Mao hour, in the Eastern Palace.

Approaching the time to enter the palace for morning court greetings, Ning Tan descended from his couch with disheveled clothes, cursing and throwing things.

“Useless! All of you are useless!”

His face was purple with rage. “Getting a woman wrong, failing to kill a person, how many times has this happened? What use is it for me to keep such worthless people!”

Maids and eunuchs knelt everywhere, but the shadow guard was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is Shadow Slave?” Ning Tan shouted the name of the shadow guard. “Cui An, go summon him for me! The Yu family is a source of trouble, conspiring with Seventh Brother. They absolutely cannot be allowed to remain!”

Cui An bowed and withdrew to carry out the order.

Cui An disdained running errands for Ning Tan, but this time he truly found it strange.

The shadow guards were born of darkness, doing all the unspeakable deeds for the Eastern Palace. This was the first time that, with dawn approaching, Shadow Slave had not returned to report.

Had the mission failed and he fled?

Impossible.

Cui An quickly dismissed this idea. Those shadow guards were death-sworn soldiers privately maintained by Ning Tan at great expense for ten years, and they had remained loyal.

Ning Tan had sat in the Eastern Palace for so many years with only this one force completely at his command, and he valued them greatly.

One failure would not cause them to flee.

The Shadow Guard Quarters were hidden in Guangzha Gate adjacent to the Eastern Palace, just a quarter-hour away.

Cui An descended from his sedan chair and slowly walked to the entrance of the Shadow Guard Quarters, immediately sensing something amiss.

The main gate of the quarters was tightly closed with no one on guard, yet a heavy smell of blood emanated from within.

The last time he had smelled such concentrated blood was five or six years ago.

Cui An’s gaze darkened as he signaled his followers to be alert. Then he placed his hand on the door and pushed forcefully.

The door creaked open, and sticky crimson dripped from the crossbeam.

Looking around, the dawn light was breaking.

Over eighty corpses of shadow guards hung neatly and bloodily under the corridor. When the wind blew, they all swayed gently in circles.

The Eastern Palace’s ten years of painstaking effort had been slaughtered clean in a single night.