“I need to find a way to resolve this knot in my heart, to vent this bitter anger.”

Yu Lingxi made up her mind.

If she didn’t resolve this concern about Ning Yin, it would become her obsession, haunting her with nightmares every night, and leaving her soul restless.

Outside the window, the sky was faintly brightening, while the gauze lamp cast a dim, warm glow.

Unable to sleep anyway, Yu Lingxi simply put on her robe and got out of bed. She blew a breath into her palm to warm her hands, then picked up a fine sheepskin brush.

She tucked the strands of jet-black hair hanging by her temples behind her ears, thought seriously for a moment, and then began writing with flowing ease.

Since she was settling accounts between herself and Ning Yin, she must be fair and rational—not overlooking any of his crimes, but also not taking advantage of him.

Ning Yin frightened her during the day and bullied her at night.

But he had never mistreated her in terms of food, clothing, or shelter, giving her accommodations of the highest standard, no less than those in the imperial palace.

Ning Yin had wiped out her uncle’s entire family and exiled all the Yu clan’s branch members.

But her uncle’s family had failed her mother’s dying entrustment, casually giving her away as a gift, embezzling, and being consumed by greed—all facts. When the Yu Lingxi mother and daughter were at their lowest, not one of the Yu clan’s branch members had extended a helping hand, so she had no reason to seek justice for them.

Yu Lingxi weighed this for a long time, pausing her brush, which soaked a splash of ink onto the paper.

After writing several points, she found that the man she once thought beyond redemption, whose crimes could not be listed even if all the bamboo in the world were used as writing slips, didn’t seem as hateful as she had imagined.

To speak of hatred, his crimes didn’t warrant death; to speak of resentment, the resentment was difficult to dispel.

In her previous life, Ning Yin had once sneered at her: “You truly are a good person, but the hardest thing in the world is to be a good person, carrying the burden of so many constraints—you live less freely than an evil person like me.”

Even now, she had never thought of killing anyone, even the current Ning Yin, just a lowly youth in the Immortal City of Desire who could not see the light of day.

Morning light shone through the window lattice as the candle burned to its end and extinguished with a soft hiss.

After weighing matters for a long while, Yu Lingxi simply slapped her brush down on the desk, splattering a few spots of dried ink.

She thought with a snort: “Regardless, his torture of Xue Cen was real, and his causing my death without a peaceful end was also real.”

These two wicked deeds could not be offset by anything.

“Young miss, why are you already up?”

Hu Tao lifted the gauze curtain and entered, hastily setting down the tea tray on the desk and wrapping a fox fur around her delicate, slender shoulders. “Sitting like this in just a robe will make you catch cold!”

“It’s fine, just clearing my head.”

Hu Tao couldn’t read, but Yu Lingxi still quickly placed the paper filled with writing under some books.

Soon after, seven or eight young maids entered in succession, carrying silver basins, combs, and other items to help Yu Lingxi wash and change.

On the tray were two sets of clothes, one silver-red and one light green. Hu Tao smiled and said: “Both are newly tailored winter clothes, so beautiful! Which would young miss like to wear today?”

Yu Lingxi glanced at them absentmindedly and instinctively said: “The red one…”

Then she paused, her beautiful brows furrowing.

Ning Yin had always loved extravagant colors, the more blood-red the better. In her previous life, Yu Lingxi had catered to his preferences, often wearing bright, gorgeous clothes, which became a habit over time.

This was not a good habit.

Yu Lingxi didn’t know who she was defying as she calmly changed her mind: “The green one.”

Hu Tao didn’t know why the young miss was suddenly upset for no reason but obediently brought over the green outfit.

“Young miss doesn’t look well, had another nightmare?” Hu Tao tied a moon-white silk waistband around Yu Lingxi, her slender waist making even another woman blush at the sight.

Yu Lingxi yawned, saying lazily: “My fate is troubled by petty people, I’m feeling vexed.”

“That’s easy!”

Hu Tao smoothed out her sleeves and whispered: “This servant knows a folk method—you write down the appearance or birth date of those troublesome people on a piece of paper, then slap it hard to drive them away. Wouldn’t that work?”

“Slap?”

Yu Lingxi paused, looking up. “That’s one way.”

Now I hold the knife while he’s on the chopping board—if I want to vent my anger, why consider propriety and morality?

After weighing so many options, why not choose the simplest path?

When the time comes, throw a sack over him, beat him up, and slip away—bridges return to bridges, roads return to roads, and our grievances will be settled.

The anger in her heart seemed to dissipate at once, as the day brightened.

Yu Lingxi raised her lips and ordered: “Go call Guard Qing Xiao, I have important matters to instruct.”

An hour later.

Hu Tao reported from outside the door: “Young miss, Guard Qing Xiao has made all preparations and is waiting outside.”

Yu Lingxi nodded, pacing around the room, then took down a small gold-braided horse whip hanging on the wall.

Testing its weight in her hand, perfect for beating someone, she tucked it into her belt, mustered her courage, and stepped out.

At the side gate of the General’s mansion, where pines and cypresses remained evergreen, Qing Xiao was indeed waiting by the carriage with four tall and strong guards.

These guards had been selected from the Yu family’s army, skilled in combat and tight-lipped, always following orders without asking reasons.

Yu Lingxi, her face hidden by a veiled hat, inspected each one and asked: “Do you know what I’m asking you to do?”

“We don’t!”

The men answered in unison without changing expression: “We are at young miss’s command!”

“Very good.” Yu Lingxi showed a satisfied expression and boarded the carriage.

She lifted the carriage curtain and asked Qing Xiao who was walking alongside: “The matter I entrusted to you, how did your investigation go?”

Qing Xiao bowed slightly: “In response to Young Miss, the fighting slaves in the Beast Arena have no names or surnames. I only found out that the black-clothed youth with the blue mask is code-named ‘Twenty-seven.’ He was severely injured in a match a few days ago and has been recovering in the den…”

“Den?”

“Because fighting slaves are considered lowly, people treat them as dogs and beasts, so their living quarters… are called dens.”

“…”

Yu Lingxi suppressed her discomfort and lowered the carriage curtain without further questions.

In stories, villains often die because they talk too much.

Since she had decided to be a villain for once, it was better to ask fewer questions.

The carriage sped along, entering the Immortal City of Desire with an imposing air.

After passing through several streets and alleys, the fragrant scent of rouge and powder gradually disappeared, replaced by an indescribable, eerie decay.

The carriage finally stopped, and Qing Xiao outside said: “Young miss, the den is just ahead. For safety’s sake, the carriage cannot go further.”

Hearing this, Yu Lingxi lifted a corner of the carriage curtain and surveyed the scene from behind the light veil of her hat, immediately frowning.

What kind of ghostly place was this?

By the ward wall, dirty stone steps extended deep underground, revealing a cold dungeon. Everywhere were broken walls and ruins, trickling sewage, rats, and insects scurrying about. In prison-like low houses were confined many ragged men, all numb and fierce—these were the fighting slaves used for nobles’ entertainment in deadly matches…

Yu Lingxi’s breath caught.

Even the most decrepit refugee streets in western Luoyang were not as dark and rotten as this place.

Qing Xiao had already scouted ahead, and they didn’t wait long before a thin black silhouette walked over from the direction of the black market.

The shadows receded inch by inch from his body, revealing the familiar blue-black mask and black military attire.

He had arrived.

Yu Lingxi peered from behind the carriage curtain, unconsciously gripping the small horsewhip in her hand. She was just waiting for him to come closer so the guards could throw a sack over him and bring him over…

Ning Yin, however, paused his steps and looked up in the direction of Yu Lingxi’s carriage.

Then, as if sensing something, he turned and ran.

“We’ve been discovered?”

Yu Lingxi bit her lip, not hesitating further, and jumped down from the carriage, shouting: “After him!”

“Young miss!”

Qing Xiao stopped Yu Lingxi, alertly saying, “He’s not running from us.”

As if to confirm Qing Xiao’s words, three masked figures leaped down from the rooftops like ghosts, pursuing in the direction Ning Yin had fled.

They moved extremely quickly and nimbly, not like fighting slaves, but more like well-trained assassins.

This sudden turn of events left Yu Lingxi stunned.

What was happening? Someone else wanted to kill Ning Yin?

Before Yu Lingxi could figure it out, there was a dull thud as Ning Yin took a punch to the chest, his body flying through the air before hitting the ground and rolling several times, his mask falling aside.

“There’s danger, young miss must not go near!”

With the situation now chaotic, the guards, fearing harm might come to her, protected Yu Lingxi and retreated behind the ward wall.

Yu Lingxi hid behind the corner of the wall, watching the struggling youth in the distance with complicated feelings.

Ning Yin must have not fully recovered from his serious injuries, as his reactions were slightly sluggish.

He clutched his chest, trembling as he tried to stand, but was kicked squarely in the chest by one of the three thugs, sending his body flying thirty feet away, crashing into a pile of miscellaneous objects like a broken sandbag.

Baskets and bamboo poles collapsed with a clatter. The black-clad youth curled up in pain, suddenly coughing up a mouthful of clotted blood, the crimson making his face appear even more deathly pale.

That bright red pained Yu Lingxi’s eyes.

Even at her most resentful, she had never thought of torturing Ning Yin in such a way…

“Hold him down, don’t rush to kill him yet.”

The lead man, with dark skin and muscles knotted like mountains, pinned Ning Yin under his foot.

Fresh blood seeped from the old wound on his chest, tinting the puddles a pale rouge color.

He was forcibly pressed to the ground, his face distorted by the dirty surface, mud and blood trickling down, reddening his angry, vengeful eyes.

The dark-skinned man said: “The master said, since you’re so good at escaping, we’ll break your legs first. On the road to the Yellow Springs, we’ll make you crawl all the way.”

With that, he stared at Ning Yin’s struggling legs and raised a heavy wolf-toothed iron hammer high.

The iron hammer reflected a cold, chilling light, dazzling Yu Lingxi’s eyes.

Her vision distorted, memories rapidly retreating, and she recalled her previous life.

In her previous life, Ning Yin always liked to kill on rainy days.

At first, Yu Lingxi thought it was some kind of mysterious ritual, but later she learned that he killed purely because his leg injury hurt unbearably on rainy days, putting him in a bad mood.

That day, amid thunderstorms, Hu Tao accidentally broke Ning Yin’s customary glass cup.

Ning Yin’s knuckles tapping on the table paused, and he slowly opened his eyes.

Yu Lingxi knew then that he had killing intent.

Without much thought, she approached him, speaking in sweet, soft tones, clumsily trying to distract Ning Yin’s attention.

Ning Yin grabbed her neck, his fingers cold without a trace of warmth, his face as pale as death, as if only fresh blood could add a touch of color to him.

At that moment, Yu Lingxi thought she was doomed.

But when he touched the warm skin of her neck, the iron-like force eased somewhat.

Ning Yin’s slightly upturned eyes were black and cold, and his gripping hand gradually changed to caressing, as if puzzled how such a fragile woman could have such burning warmth.

He placed his other hand on her as well, so cold it made Yu Lingxi’s hair stand on end.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded coldly.

Yu Lingxi, strongly resisting the urge to run away, removed her garments, hesitantly using her body heat to warm Ning Yin, whose leg ailment had flared up.

For the first time, she had correctly guessed the madman’s thoughts.

When she kissed him, his jaw was still trembling slightly, biting through her lips and neck.

Yu Lingxi massaged him to relieve his pain, doing her utmost to please him.

Finally exhausted, she fell asleep, and when she woke, Ning Yin was still tightly embracing her body for warmth, his strong arms nearly breaking her slender waist, her entire body bent like a bow.

That was the only time Ning Yin had shown anything resembling “vulnerability,” but it stayed with Yu Lingxi for a long time.

Perhaps because Ning Yin was a person who never showed weakness, able to maintain composure even with a blade piercing his chest, so insane he almost lacked the five senses.

So she was curious about what kind of bone-deep, heart-gnawing pain could make him endure sleepless nights with a trembling jaw.

Was his leg… broken like this?

Yu Lingxi’s pupils trembled, memories and reality overlapping, with some answer emerging.

With no time to think further, she called out shakily: “Qing Xiao! What are you all standing around for?”

The crisp, delicate shout echoed through the air as crows flew across the sky.

The dark-skinned man turned in surprise. Qing Xiao’s sword flew from his hand, cutting the thug’s wrist. The iron hammer dropped to the ground, splashing water drops that reflected cold light in mid-air.

Immediately, two other Yu household guards leaped out from behind Qing Xiao, blocking the curved blades of the other two thugs.

In that moment, time seemed infinitely stretched.

A gust of wind arose, lifting the light veil of the veiled hat, revealing the charming young lady’s stern eyes.

She held an expensive gold-braided horsewhip, wrapped in precious moon-white fox fur, standing in this hellish place that was utterly mismatched with her, so clean she seemed to glow.

And the weak, disheveled youth lying in the muddy water, blood seeping from the corner of his lips, his dark eyes half-open, thus meeting those beautiful almond eyes across the space.

Ah, it’s her.