Yu Lingxi was awakened by the faint sound of flowing water.

Perhaps due to the pain-relieving and calming effects of last night’s medicine, when she opened her eyes, not only did she not feel unwell, but she felt refreshed and clear-headed.

Outside the window, the day had fully broken. By the washing stand, Ning Yin, bare-chested, was wringing a pure white cotton towel.

Clear cool water squeezed through his cold white, slender finger bones, creating a pitter-patter sound. As if his hands were stained with some filth, he rotated his palms, meticulously washing for a long time.

When he exerted force, the tendons on the back of his hands and the muscles of his shoulders and arms appropriately bulged, like the finest cold jade carved, his black hair loose, carrying a slight misty dampness.

Yu Lingxi suddenly realized that over the past half year, Ning Yin’s physique was no longer thin and immature, but had developed the robust strength of his previous life, each muscle filled with power ready to burst forth.

Had he just returned from outside?

As she was thinking, Ning Yin had already dried his hands and grabbed a garment from the wooden rack to put on.

Though still a snow-white robe, it differed slightly from the one he wore last night.

“Wei Qi,” Yu Lingxi sat up, her voice carrying the hoarseness of sleep, soft and gentle. “Did you not sleep all night? Where did you go?”

Ning Yin unhurriedly fastened his belt, wrung out another clean towel, and pinched it with his soaked-white fingers. He walked to the chair beside the bed, crossed his legs, and said: “To light lanterns.”

Yu Lingxi was puzzled: “Light lanterns?”

“I lit more than eighty of them. Extremely beautiful.”

Ning Yin chuckled softly, placing the damp towel over Yu Lingxi’s drowsy, lazy sleeping face.

Yu Lingxi didn’t ask further, only removing the cool, damp towel from her face, obediently wiping her cheeks.

Seeing Ning Yin constantly watching her, she thought for a moment, then smiled slightly: “If you like lanterns, on the night of the Qixi Festival, we can go release wish lanterns.”

Ning Yin’s eye corners lifted slightly.

He knew Yu Lingxi had figured it out and had expected to see disgust or disappointment on her face, but unexpectedly received such a neutral response.

She was not sparing in using the greatest kindness to dissolve malice. Ning Yin followed her lead, and his fingers tapping the chair armrests gradually relaxed.

Yu Lingxi could only use one hand, making her face-wiping movements slow and meticulous. The pure white cotton cloth wiped bit by bit across her snow-white face, along her jaw to her beautiful collarbone, then stopped.

Ning Yin’s fingertips tapping the chair armrest slowed, and his gaze also stopped.

“All clean,” she carefully folded the towel and placed it beside the bed.

Ning Yin looked at her for a while, then leaned forward to pick up the small medicine jar that had been sitting on the table for some time. “Miss should change her bandage now.”

Yu Lingxi extended her hand to receive it, but Ning Yin withdrew his hand, holding the medicine jar and slowly rotating it.

Yu Lingxi saw that he had no movement for a long time, then looked at the tricky wound on her upper arm, understanding his meaning.

It took her a brief moment to convince herself, then she said softly: “Then I’ll trouble you.”

She loosened the fastening bands, paused, then continued to pull the thin gauze undergarment down to her elbow, revealing a section of snow-white shoulder and arm, as well as an apricot-pink undergarment with exquisite embroidery.

Because her skin was so fair and delicate, it made the wound on her arm all the more heart-wrenching.

Ning Yin untied the bandage knot, his voice becoming deeper: “Bear with it.”

The blood scab and bandage were stuck together, making the removal somewhat painful.

Yu Lingxi bent her legs, resting her chin on her knees, frowning, and holding her breath in pain.

After Ning Yin cleaned the wound, he scooped some ointment with his finger and carefully applied it to her wound: “This medicine promotes skin regeneration and prevents scarring. Miss won’t be left with a mark.”

The ointment stung, causing Yu Lingxi’s entire body to tense. The hollow of her collarbone formed a beautiful, stubborn curve as she bit her lip without making a sound.

Ning Yin glanced at her pitiful appearance with trembling eyelashes, leaned closer, and gently blew on her red, swollen, scabbed wound.

The warm breath brushing over them made Yu Lingxi suddenly shiver.

Ning Yin looked up, his jet-black hair falling from behind his ear, brushing against Yu Lingxi’s fingers that were supporting herself on the edge of the bed.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

Yu Lingxi endured the sensitive trembling and shook her head, saying hoarsely: “It itches.”

Ning Yin, as if discovering an interesting secret, let out a low, muffled laugh.

His exhaled breath brushed over her wound like a feather smoothing away the burning pain.

“Don’t laugh,” Yu Lingxi clutched the quilt tightly, always feeling his teasing expression was like teasing a cat, and couldn’t help saying weakly, “Don’t you ever have a time when you’re ticklish?”

Then she realized that Ning Yin indeed was not ticklish, and didn’t fear pain either.

As she was regretting her words, she heard Ning Yin say: “There are times when I’m ticklish.”

Yu Lingxi was surprised, forgetting the pain, and suddenly turned her head to look at him.

“Where?” she doubted.

After all, in two lifetimes, she never knew Ning Yin had a ticklish weakness.

Ning Yin raised his eyes to meet her ink-line-like eyelashes, methodically finished bandaging, then raised his fingers fragrant with medicine and lightly touched the corner of her eye.

Whenever he saw her hook-like gaze, his heart would itch terribly.

Yu Lingxi closed her eyes, feeling his fingertip touch, and immediately left, then opened them again.

Stunned, she raised her hand to touch the corner of her eye where he had touched.

After a long moment of hesitation: Touching the eye… what did that mean?

…

At Guangzha Gate, the Shadow Guard Quarters.

Ning Tan, who had rushed over hastily, looked at the white cloths covering corpses on the ground, and the shock in his eyes gradually turned to terror.

This terror was not merely from death itself, but a panic from watching helplessly as another’s power overshadowed his own. A crown prince without his confidants and forces was nothing but an empty puppet, easily toppled.

Moreover, he was no longer the only prince of the Da Wei Dynasty.

Ning Tan stepped back, slipped in the wet blood, and staggeringly grabbed Cui An’s collar.

“Who did this? What should I do?” His eyes were bloodshot, impotent, and dejected. “Aren’t you the smartest, Cui An? To find the murderer for me, immediately! Cut them into a thousand pieces!”

Cui An allowed him to grab his collar, standing immovable.

Ning Tan shouted for a while on his own, then in the endless cold silence understood: his shadow guards were all dead, and no one would truly be loyal to him.

Cui An was Her Majesty’s man, and the Xue family was loyal to the Eastern Palace’s legitimacy, not to him, Ning Tan.

Ning Tan dazedly released his hand. His wings were being clipped bit by bit, and all he could do was wail.

Cui An frowned, smoothing his collar, and said slowly: “Her Majesty wants Your Highness to retreat to the Eastern Palace and lie low for now.”

Mother… yes, he still had his mother.

No mother wouldn’t love her child; she would surely secure the position of Crown Prince for him.

Ning Tan, dispirited, boarded his carriage and hurriedly headed for Kunning Palace.

In the side hall, the Empress was meditating with her eyes closed.

Hearing the Crown Prince enter and pay his respects, she didn’t even raise her eyes: “Wasn’t the Crown Prince told to stay in the Eastern Palace?”

“Mother, please help your son!” Ning Tan anxiously knelt, grabbing the Empress’s sleeve like a child, crying with snot and tears.

“The matter of the Shadow Guard Quarters, I already know about it. As a Crown Prince, raising a private army is already a taboo. The current solution is to clean up the aftermath thoroughly, leaving no evidence,” the Empress said calmly with her eyes closed. “Go back, and don’t come to pay respects for a while.”

“Mother, I am the Crown Prince, not a prisoner. Being confined to the Eastern Palace is no different from being a deposed prince,” Ning Tan spoke with resentment, becoming so agitated he spoke without thinking. “Even with so many rumors saying you’re not my birth mother, trying to drive a wedge between us, I never believed them… Even if the whole world won’t help me, you can’t just sit by and do nothing.”

The Empress’s hand turning the prayer beads paused, and she opened her eyes.

That empty gaze turned toward the Crown Prince, and she called out: “Cui An.”

Cui An understood, stepped forward, and stood before the sobbing Ning Tan.

Before Ning Tan could react, a heavy slap struck his face, making his head spin.

Ning Tan couldn’t believe it—this eunuch had struck him.

He was like a child who had lost a toy, eagerly seeking comfort from his mother, only to receive a merciless slap.

“The Crown Prince has misspoken,” the Empress examined him, saying flatly.

Her gaze at her son was always plain and cold, seemingly no different from how she looked at palace servants. Even for disciplinary slapping, she was unwilling to do it herself.

Ning Tan held his face, still rigid.

Something dark was awakened, growing wild and rampant in his heart.

Was Mother… truly his birth mother?

…

After having breakfast, Yu Lingxi felt the wound wasn’t as painful, so she tried to get up and walk around.

Brothels were liveliest at night but quite quiet during the day. Just after the Chen hour, only a few listless pipa tunes could be heard from the elegant rooms upstairs.

Pushing open the door, she saw Ning Yin in light attire sitting at the tea pavilion at the end of the corridor, leaning against the railing, looking out the window with interest at something.

Two people stood beside him. One with burn scars on his face, whom Yu Lingxi recognized as the medicine vendor from the Desire Celestial Market, presumably summoned by Ning Yin to detoxify her.

The other was a tall, silent man with a half-man-high greatsword on his back, standing in the shadows without a sound.

Seeing Yu Lingxi approach, the two nodded slightly in greeting, then withdrew.

“What are you looking at?” Yu Lingxi walked lightly over, not questioning why there were so many strange people around Ning Yin.

Ning Yin casually pointed to the end of the table, indicating that Yu Lingxi should sit down.

Yu Lingxi obediently sat down and followed his line of sight downward to see in the courtyard a courtesan and her patron embracing intimately, reluctantly saying goodbye.

The courtesan was only fifteen or sixteen, with a pretty face and loosened hair, while the patron was a poor scholar in semi-worn Confucian garments.

The scholar hurriedly dressed, fastening his clothes, saying: “Ying Niang, this time’s silver will also have to be put on credit…”

“Don’t you know my heart? Saying such things is underestimating me!” The courtesan glared, biting her lip and pushing him. “Hurry and go, don’t let the brothel keeper discover you!”

The scholar pulled out a bound section of cut hair from his bosom, handed it to the courtesan, and then slipped away through the back door.

The courtesan held that lock of hair, standing in the courtyard for a long time before reluctantly returning to her room.

Yu Lingxi withdrew her gaze to see Ning Yin holding a cup and sneering: “It’s just a relationship of exchanging money for services, yet she willingly does unprofitable business. Isn’t that laughable?”

Yu Lingxi raised the corners of her mouth slightly, thinking before saying: “What’s so laughable about it? Before the courtesan and patron fell in love, naturally they each took what they needed, but after liking someone, it’s no longer a transaction, just exchanging true heart for true heart.”

Thinking of the courtesan’s infatuation, she couldn’t help sighing lightly: “Perhaps in matters of emotions, one doesn’t calculate profit and loss.”

Ning Yin raised his eyes to look at her.

After looking for a long time, he finally repeated flatly: “Liking someone means it’s no longer a transaction?”

Yu Lingxi looked back at him and nodded.

Isn’t that right? This statement was correct.

“My staying at Miss’s residence was mutually beneficial. But yesterday’s destruction of the assassins was entirely unprofitable, with no benefit to me…” Ning Yin swirled his teacup, thoughtfully saying: “What does Miss think this is?”

A ray of morning light spilled in from the window, falling into his rippling cup, and reflecting in his eyes.

So those pink-colored eyes also took on an amber-gold glow, staring into the soul, enticing one to sink into them.

Yu Lingxi’s heartstrings suddenly jumped.

Some thought flashed through her mind, too quick to capture, leaving no trace.

She thought: At least it proves that the Yu family holds quite an important position in Ning Yin’s heart, even more important than other pieces in his hand…

The purpose of sheltering Ning Yin had already been achieved.

But just now, what more was she hoping for?

“I don’t know,” she said with an honest expression, her clean eyes filled with the warm sunlight from the window, softly and sincerely saying, “But Your Highness can tell me the answer.”

Clouds drifted lazily, and tree shadows danced.

There was a moment of quietness between them.

“Miss has always been so perceptive, why are you so slow today?” Ning Yin was slightly displeased, reproaching her for seeing clearly as an observer yet being confused as a participant.

Yu Lingxi didn’t hear the answer and lowered her eyelashes slightly.

Ning Yin put down his cup and asked flatly: “Anything else?”

Only then did Yu Lingxi remember why she had come to find him, suppressing the ripples in her heart.

“I want to go home,” Yu Lingxi said. “I’ve been out all night; my parents and siblings will be worried.”

Ning Yin casually rotated the teacup on the table, his long fingers pinching and releasing, making Yu Lingxi’s heart rise and fall with the cup.

Only when those autumn-water beautiful eyes showed slight unease did Ning Yin move the corner of his mouth, mercifully saying: “Wait another half hour.”

Yu Lingxi was puzzled: “Why?”

Ning Yin looked at the gray falcon on the opposite rooftop, his voice cold: “Too many small fish around the Yu residence. Need to clean them up.”

At the Si hour, Ning Yin indeed personally drove the carriage, taking Yu Lingxi back to her residence.

As soon as the guard outside the gate saw Yu Lingxi, he ran back to report.

Shortly after, Yu Xinyi supports Madam Yu, Yu Huanchen leads Su Wan, and the whole family comes out together, surrounding Yu Lingxi with questions.

“Suisui!” Su Wan rushed over, probably having cried all night, her eyes swollen.

Madam Yu also held her youngest daughter’s hand, repeatedly choking with emotion: “It’s good that you’re back, it’s good that you’re back.”

Yu Huanchen stood at the steps, frowning at the youth standing with his hands behind his back by the carriage.

Their gazes met, both probing and confrontational.

“Brother, this time I owe much to Wei Qi,” Yu Lingxi inconspicuously moved to block Yu Huanchen’s intense gaze, smiling, “If not for him rushing me to find a good doctor to treat my wound, I don’t know what condition I’d be in now.”

The family looked toward Ning Yin, only Yu Huanchen’s expression was complicated.

“Brother,” Yu Lingxi tugged at his sleeve, her eyes pleading, “Whatever you want to say, can we talk inside?”

Yu Huanchen looked at his sister once, then sighed.

He made a distant salute with clasped hands toward Ning Yin, personally expressing his gratitude before leading his family through the gate.

Yu Lingxi took two steps toward the residence, then turned back to look in Ning Yin’s direction.

The vermillion gates slowly closed, and there was no sign of Ning Yin by the carriage.

Yu Huanchen stopped walking and instructed Qingxiao: “Go invite the Imperial Physician over.”

“Yes,” Qingxiao, also wounded with his arm bandaged, hesitated and asked, “Young General, regarding Wei Qi, should we continue to…”

Yu Huanchen looked at his youngest sister who was gently comforting Su Wan, feeling overwhelmed.

“No need to investigate anymore,” he snorted lightly, even a fool should have guessed by now.

…

Entering his private chamber, Ning Yin pulled open a drawer and placed the recovered sandalwood box inside.

His fingertips slowly rubbed over the smooth, cool black jade, a very faint smile spreading in his eyes.

What design would be good to carve?

Ning Yin tapped his fingers, thinking leisurely.