In the bedchamber of Prince Jing’s manor.

The person on the bed had their eyes tightly closed, skin pale without a trace of color. The pulse was feeble. The young Imperial Physician impassively withdrew his hand, wrote a prescription for strengthening and nourishing, then bowed and withdrew.

As soon as the physician had left the hall, the “dying” person on the sickbed opened his eyes, dark pupils cold and deep.

Ning Yin spat out the pill hidden under his tongue, bent his legs to rise, and said, “Follow him.”

The Imperial Physician did not return to the medical institute but took a roundabout route to an inn.

Shortly after, a pigeon flew from the inn’s backyard, heading southeast.

The gray falcon on the roof tilted its head and followed closely behind.

Two hours later, at the Ministry of Justice prison in Prince Jing’s manor.

Ning Yin, wearing jet-black fox fur, descended calmly from his sedan chair. The gray falcon circled once in the air before obediently landing on his sturdy arm.

Down the gloomy stone steps, all the way to the innermost layer, a dark and putrid aura assaulted the senses.

“I truly never imagined that the Seventh Prince would be the one to reach this point.”

Cui An was bound to an iron rack with iron chains, blood seeping from his mouth and nose, yet he still managed to crack a mild smile. “If not for the blood feud between your Ning family and me, Your Highness and I might have become like-minded companions who enjoyed each other’s conversation.”

Ning Yin sat down in a chair with his legs crossed, adjusting his sleeves as he said, “It was you who drew Ning Tan’s attention to Yu Lingxi, targeting her repeatedly.”

His voice was deep, his tone certain.

“Who told her to be Yu Yuan’s daughter.”

If not for the extraordinary luck of the Yu Family, his plan would have succeeded long ago.

Cui An dared to admit this openly because he knew Ning Yin wouldn’t kill him.

He held too many of the Empress’s secrets. If Ning Yin wanted to completely remove obstacles, he needed Cui An’s confession as a witness.

“Are you thinking that as long as you don’t confess, I cannot kill you?”

Ning Yin’s casual voice continued, “Unfortunately, I act only according to my preferences, not reason.”

Cui An’s thoughts had been guessed correctly, and the smile on his lips stiffened slightly.

“Why so nervous?”

Ning Yin supported his temple with his bent finger, his handsome features flickering indistinctly. “You touched the person dearest to my heart. Letting you die just like that would be too merciful.”

He lifted his finger slightly, and immediately a subordinate brought over a stack of silver mesh gauze, thin as smoke.

Having dealt with so many people, Cui An naturally knew how formidable this seemingly exquisite mesh gauze was as an instrument of torture.

This silver mesh gauze only needed to be wrapped around a person’s body, and the flesh would bulge through the fine, fish-scale-like silver threads. Then a sharp small knife could be used to slice off the protruding flesh piece by piece…

“Three days, a thousand cuts, I’ll accompany you to play slowly.”

Saying this, Ning Yin paused slightly and smiled: “I almost forgot, Superintendent Cui is missing two ounces of flesh, so it won’t take a thousand cuts.”

Cui An’s calm and mild face finally cracked, revealing the original viciousness and malice.

He burst into laughter, saying fiercely, “Good, good… Your Highness’s knife must be steady enough…”

But soon, he could no longer speak.

Ning Yin emerged from the dungeon, sat in his sedan chair, and accepted the damp cloth handed by his attendant to wipe his fingers clean bit by bit.

The cloth was changed seven or eight times until his fair, slender fingers were rubbed red. Only then did he open the small lid of the incense burner, allowing the cool woody fragrance to dispel the bloody smell clinging to his body.

Clearwater was insufficient to wash away the filth on his hands; he needed something softer and cleaner to wash them with.

Ning Yin rubbed his fingers, set down the black jade carving in his palm, and said leisurely, “To the Yu residence.”

…

Back at home for two or three days, Yu Lingxi often sat for a while in the pavilion in the back garden.

The late afternoon sun by the window was faint and white. This place still retained the state from when Wei Qi had left. The table and chair seemed to still retain his presence.

Lost in her thoughts, she suddenly saw a remaining maple leaf flutter down with the wind, landing on the table by the window.

Yu Lingxi picked up the maple leaf. The leaf was like fire, having endured a whole winter of frost, rain, and snow, yet remained vibrantly red.

She twirled the maple leaf between her fingers, then took up a brush and moistened the ink. She wrote two lines of tiny characters on the maple leaf:

“Wish I were a star and you the moon, night after night our flowing light would shine pure together.”①

After finishing and drying the ink with a breath, she sighed softly, unable to resist wondering what Ning Yin might be doing at this moment.

“Awan says you won’t even drink the peppered plum wine anymore, just hiding here alone lost in thought.”

From behind came Yu Huanchen’s voice. He sat cross-legged across from Yu Lingxi, looking at his sister for a long while. “Still thinking about Father’s words?”

Yu Lingxi pressed the maple leaf under a paperweight, collecting her thoughts as she said, “Brother, why doesn’t Father like Ning Yin?”

This was a problem she had never faced in her previous life.

In her previous life, she had been alone without attachments, following Ning Yin without having to consider worldly entanglements, status, or benefits.

But that day in the carriage returning from Prince Jing’s manor, Father hadn’t said a word.

Since childhood, Yu Lingxi has been deeply loved. When Yu Yuan spoke to her, he would instinctively soften his voice. She had never seen her father so seriously silent before.

Yu Huanchen pondered for a moment, merely asking, “Does Suisui know how Prince Jing disposed of the assassins and attendants who participated in the lantern festival that night?”

Yu Lingxi certainly knew; she remembered the scenes from her previous life.

Yu Huanchen said, “Some of those people were participants, some were merely coerced into involvement, but without exception, they were all hung on wooden stakes under the palace gates, turned into ‘sky lanterns.'”

“It was those people who wanted to kill him first.”

Yu Lingxi explained, “When others want to put him to death, we outsiders have no right to demand he return evil with kindness.”

“Indeed, from the perspective of those in power, I must commend Prince Jing for his ‘decisive killing,’ but from the perspective of looking at a brother-in-law, he is too dangerous.”

Yu Huanchen paused, then continued, “Of course, this is not our main concern.”

He stood up and closed the doors and windows.

“Let’s say something treasonous behind closed doors. Prince Jing has reached a position just one step away from the throne. Even if he has no desire to be emperor, his position and the supporters under him will push him to take the throne for their future and benefits.”

Yu Huanchen sighed, looking at his sister earnestly, “Nothing is more ruthless than an emperor. By then, with three palaces, six courts, and seventy-two consorts, each woman standing with an intricately connected family behind her, can Suisui endure such grievances? As proud as you are, can you truly allow yourself to share a man with other women?”

He said, “Father doesn’t dislike him. Rather, many things must be weighed—whether from Father’s perspective or the standpoint of a subject.”

His brother’s calm analysis splashed like a stone into the sea, creating fine ripples in Yu Lingxi’s heart.

Indeed, in this life, Ning Yin was not lame; he was healthy and strong. The humbleness of his birth could no longer hinder his advancing steps.

Did he want to be emperor?

Yu Lingxi wasn’t entirely sure.

The only thing she was certain of was her feelings for Ning Yin, and his for her.

“Brother, although in your eyes, Wei Qi and I have only known each other for just over a year, I have indeed spent a very, very long time to understand one thing.”

Yu Lingxi’s eyes curved slightly as she said gently, “In my heart, there is only room for one Ning Yin. Since this is so, why should I stop out of fear for things that haven’t happened? Should we prevent someone from walking because they fear falling?”

“Suisui…”

“I trust him, just as I trust that you and Father would never hurt me.”

Though her words were soft and smiling, they somehow carried a firmness that rang true.

“Miss, Prince Ji-Ji-Ji…”

Hu Tao came running, holding onto the doorframe, stuttering “Ji” for a long time before finally blurting out in one breath, “Prince Jing has arrived!”

Yu Lingxi was startled. Without regard for Yu Huanchen, she quickly lifted her skirts and ran out.

The late winter sun was a faint white, somewhat cold.

Yu Lingxi’s sleeves filled with wind, her sash dancing like smoke as she ran past the lanterns from the Lantern Festival decorations under the corridor, heading straight to the main hall where guests were received.

Indeed, Ning Yin was seated in the main position. Hearing her footsteps, his ink-black eyes looked over at her.

His lips moved almost imperceptibly as he beckoned to her, ignoring everyone else.

Yu Lingxi, breathing slightly heavily, walked toward him.

“Ahem, ahem!” Two abrupt low coughs sounded in the hall.

Yu Lingxi caught sight of her father’s stern black face and quickly composed herself, properly performing a formal greeting: “Your Highness.”

Yet her eyes remained bright, radiating clear light, without a trace of embarrassment or pretense.

“Come here.”

In front of Yu Yuan and Yu Xinyi, Ning Yin raised his hand and pinched Yu Lingxi’s cheek, as if gauging how much weight she had gained in the two days since returning home.

She had lost a little weight. How had the Yu Family been taking care of her?

Ning Yin’s eyes narrowed.

Seeing her father’s expression grow increasingly complex, Yu Lingxi had to peel Ning Yin’s hand away, whispering, “Why have you come?”

“I’ve come to take Suisui back to the manor.”

Ning Yin, quite dissatisfied, lowered his hand to rest on his knee, tapping it as he said, “Now that I’m here, I won’t trouble General Yu any further.”

Yu Yuan had probably never seen anyone speak so matter-of-factly about taking away his precious daughter. For a moment, his neck thickened with consternation.

It was Yu Xinyi who reacted first, speaking frankly: “Suisui is still unmarried, waiting at home. How can she stay overnight at Your Highness’s residence?”

Ning Yin gave a light “Oh,” and said, “I’ll present the betrothal gifts now.”

Yu Lingxi pursed her lips, using her eyes to signal to Ning Yin: What are you doing? Where are your betrothal gifts?

“General Yu is upright and wouldn’t be impressed by gold, silver, and jewels I might send. So I’ll exchange them for a more interesting betrothal gift.”

He lifted his finger slightly, and immediately an attendant brought forward a tray with a bundle of curly hair cut off at the roots.

“What is this?”

Yu Xinyi recognized it at a glance. “Your Highness has captured Cui An?”

“Is this betrothal gift satisfactory?” Ning Yin asked.

Ning Yin had come prepared. Yu Yuan turned his gaze toward his daughter.

That gaze was heavy, yet filled with infinite concern.

Yu Lingxi thought for a moment, then finally stepped back and knelt before Yu Yuan.

In an instant, everyone in the room displayed different expressions.

There was a hint of coolness in Ning Yin’s eyes.

Even when angry, he only dared to punish Suisui with his mouth.

No one could make her kneel, not even her father.

Ning Yin stood up, bent down to hold Yu Lingxi’s shoulders, his dark eyes intense while his voice was incomparably gentle: “Will Suisui rise on her own, or shall I make everyone kneel alongside you?”

Yu Lingxi’s eyelashes fluttered as she reassuringly grasped Ning Yin’s fingers.

“Father.”

She looked at her father, whose heart ached more than his authority commanded, and laid bare her heart completely. “Father, this Prince Jing is the one your daughter has decided upon. I will not abandon your nurturing grace for him. But, please allow me, like an ordinary girl, to choose the person I truly like.”

Silence filled the hall.

Yu Lingxi exhaled softly, smiling faintly as she said, “Now, I wish to be alone with my beloved for a while. Please, Father, allow this.”

With that, she raised her hands in a formal gesture, then stood up and took Ning Yin’s hand as they walked out.

The setting sun stretched out, like golden gauze spreading across the ground.

Yu Huanchen came from under the corridor, shaking his head at his heavy-gazed father.

Yu Lingxi’s light-colored skirt and Ning Yin’s sandalwood purple robe intertwined. If one disregarded the uncertainties of the future, the young couple before them truly formed an exquisitely beautiful painting of bold and vivid colors.

Yu Lingxi led Ning Yin to the back garden.

Stepping into the pavilion again, Ning Yin in his sandalwood purple brocade robe had shed his youthful innocence, instead displaying a kind of incongruous noble grandeur.

“What excuse is Suisui thinking of now to delay returning to the prince’s manor?”

Ning Yin obediently sat across from the table, reaching out to dust off a speck of dirt on Yu Lingxi’s skirt from when she had knelt earlier.

Yu Lingxi couldn’t tell from his voice whether he was angry or not, so she could only smile and explain: “Father has his concerns, fearing I’ll face grievances if I marry into the royal family. What we need to do is dispel his worries through our actions.”

Ning Yin raised his hand to support his chin, asking, “Isn’t the rice already cooked enough to dispel his worries?”

At the mention of this, Yu Lingxi felt her heart burn with embarrassment.

Her body only recently recovered, again carried traces of subtle soreness.

“Ordinary lovers need to be in love first, and only when parents feel reassured will they allow marriage.”

Yu Lingxi’s eyes held an autumn pool of water as she said softly, “I haven’t yet properly spoken of love with Your Highness.”

This was the truth in both of her lifetimes.

Ning Yin smiled ambiguously, just quietly looking at her, his profile gilded with a hint of faint light filtering through the window paper, flawlessly handsome.

However, his next words were not at all beautiful!

Ning Yin, with perfect seriousness and an entangling gaze, said, “Was loving so deeply the other night not enough?”

“…” Yu Lingxi gave him an annoyed look.

She tried hard to bring the topic back on track, taking out the maple leaf with the love verse from under the paperweight and pushing it in front of Ning Yin.

Ning Yin casually picked it up, raising his eyebrow slightly: “A leaf?”

Then he saw the small characters on the maple leaf, and his gaze paused slightly.

“Wish I were a star and you the moon, night after night our flowing light would shine pure together.”

Seeing Ning Yin look at it for a long time, Yu Lingxi’s gaze involuntarily softened, “Sending a leaf to convey longing, giving it to Wei Qi, this is what it means to speak of love.”

Wei Qi…

Ning Yin hadn’t heard this name for some time and felt quite nostalgic.

He carefully placed the maple leaf aside, text facing up, looked at it for a long while more, then smilingly said softly, “Come here, I’ll give Suisui a poem in return.”

Seeing him smile so gently, Yu Lingxi instinctively felt something wasn’t right.

“There’s no paper,” she hesitated.

“No matter, before me is the finest white paper.”

As he spoke, Ning Yin gripped Yu Lingxi’s waist with both hands, effortlessly lifting her to sit on the table.

“What are you doing…”

Yu Lingxi instinctively tried to stand up but was pressed down at the shoulder by Ning Yin’s hand. His other hand reached for her sash, pulling and tugging until her outer and middle garments retreated to her arms, revealing a peach-pink undergarment and a stretch of fair, delicate back and waist.

Yu Lingxi instinctively shivered, as Ning Yin leaned in close, his high-quality clothing brushing against her back, bringing a cool quiver.

“Don’t move.”

Ning Yin pinched her waist in a half-encircling posture, whispering hoarsely in her ear.

He leisurely picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and began to write on that snow-white hollow of her waist.