When Yu Lingxi woke, her waist was still sore.

Clothes and the small booklet were scattered messily on the ground. Ning Yin, unusually, hadn’t risen early. He lay on his side at the edge of the bed, his loose collar faintly revealing firm contours beneath.

Yu Lingxi lowered her eyes to look carefully. That brilliant tattoo had faded, returning to cold whiteness.

She couldn’t resist extending her index finger, and just as she touched his chest, Ning Yin raised his hand to grasp hers, enfolding it in his palm.

“Want to see the seal?”

He opened his eyes, his dark pupils filled with spirited amusement.

Yu Lingxi shifted her sore waist, tactfully withdrawing her finger: “No, no. Today we still need to go to the ancestral temple for ceremonial greetings.”

Ning Yin remained unmoved, saying softly: “This Prince wants to see Suisui’s seal.”

With that, he slowly lifted the quilt and bent down to kiss her.

When palace maids came in to clean, Yu Lingxi could hardly bear to look.

Fortunately, the palace servants were well-trained—they never looked at what they shouldn’t, never asked what they shouldn’t—allowing her to regain some of the thick skin she had developed in her previous life when serving others with her beauty.

Besides, as the legitimate mistress now, she gradually became at ease.

By the hour of Chen, Yu Lingxi had finished dressing, changing into solemn robes with golden hairpins and floral ornaments gleaming. She boarded a carriage with Ning Yin, heading to pay respects at the Imperial Ancestral Temple.

Imperial guards were responsible for escorting and clearing the way, while Yu Xinyi led the Mounted Patrol to guard both sides of the carriage. Seeing her sister so well cared for, with a radiance more gorgeous than ever before, this valiant female military commander’s eyes revealed an approving smile.

“Sister, how is Xue Cen?”

“He coughed up blood once this morning but hasn’t died. Yu Huanchen and the Imperial Physicians are taking turns day and night to treat him.”

Speaking of this matter, Yu Xinyi was filled with anger. “That second fool took all the blame upon himself, insisting the poisoning was entirely his doing, seeking death to atone. Who would believe that the weak Xue Cen, incapable of killing a chicken, could murder someone? Even now he’s covering for the real culprit. I don’t know what’s in his head.”

Yu Lingxi pressed her lips together.

She knew that from the moment Xue Cen drank that poisoned cup, he hadn’t planned to survive.

The hatred of a man whose wife was stolen, resulting in a crime of passion, was different from an assassination attempt on a prince. The former required only one life in payment, while the latter would implicate the entire family.

Xue Cen hoped to use his death to save the Xue family. He naively believed there could be a perfect solution in this world.

“Suisui’s little eyes are darting around. What are you thinking about now?”

The carriage sank as Ning Yin, dressed in his sandalwood-purple princely robes, climbed aboard.

Yu Lingxi came back to her senses, looking up with a smile: “The sky is rather gloomy. I wonder if it will rain.”

Clouds obscured the sun, and the wind made the carriage’s hanging bells chime.

Ning Yin lifted his eyelids, then curved his lips slightly: “Is that so? This Prince finds the sunlight quite dazzling.”

Yu Lingxi glanced at the dim sky beyond the palace walls and laughed: “You’re teasing me again. Where is the sunlight?”

Ning Yin didn’t speak, looking at her for a long time, then raised his finger to point at her bright eyes from a distance.

Her eyelashes trembled lightly, filled with shattered light, like the flow of stars.

The Imperial Ancestral Temple was majestic, with rows of spirit tablets standing like a forest, and bright lamps like a sea, illuminating Ning Yin’s cold, unperturbed face.

He showed no reverence for these things; when looking at the spirit tablets, he even carried a hint of casual mockery.

If it weren’t to announce to the world that Yu Lingxi was his wife, to make officials kowtow beneath her skirts, Ning Yin probably wouldn’t have bothered to set foot in this place.

After going through the motions at the ancestral temple, the carriage set off to return to the palace.

According to protocol, after the temple ceremony, the Princess Consort needed to visit Changyang Palace to pay respects to the Emperor.

“The old Emperor enjoys comfort. The Imperial Garden and Penglai Pool have nice spring scenery.”

But Ning Yin said, “If Suisui has nothing to do, you can go there for a stroll. No need to visit Changyang Palace; it’s not clean.”

Ning Yin was the first to dare call the Emperor’s residence unclean.

“You’re not entering the palace?” Yu Lingxi hurriedly asked.

“Missing your husband so much?”

Ning Yin seemed to laugh very slowly, his voice elegant and deep. “Going to catch fish. I must trouble Suisui to entertain herself for a while.”

That fish, naturally, had slipped through the net.

Xue Song?

After thinking, Yu Lingxi hooked her fingers around Ning Yin’s palm, smiling as she said: “Husband, let me tell you something. Don’t be angry.”

Ning Yin glanced over, his eyes deep and calm.

Yu Lingxi felt certain Ning Yin must know what she wanted to say. Those beautiful, cold eyes could always see through all thoughts.

“If possible, I hope you’ll spare Xue Cen’s life.”

Her gaze was clear as she spoke frankly.

Ning Yin raised the corner of his eye slightly, saying without much expression: “Suisui should know I’m not a magnanimous person.”

“Because I know, that’s why I don’t want any entanglements. But if Xue Cen sacrifices himself to fulfill everything, he will forever stand between our memories. Perhaps years later, I will still remember that cup of poison he drank.”

Yu Lingxi squeezed his fingers under the cover of her sleeve, saying, “I don’t want that.”

Between her and Ning Yin, they needed no one’s sacrifice.

And the true culprit who exploited Xue Cen’s foolish infatuation shouldn’t escape justice.

Ning Yin reversed his grip to hold her fingertips, saying neither yes nor no.

“Do you find these gold bells pleasant to hear?”

He asked an entirely unrelated question.

Yu Lingxi was startled, following his gaze to where two strings of delicate gold bells gently swayed beneath the canopy as the carriage moved, producing melodious sounds.

She curved her eyes, saying softly: “They’re pleasant.”

Ning Yin maintained an inscrutable, serious expression, slowly narrowing his eyes, his thoughts unknown.

“I’ll come for you before sunset,” he said before leaving the carriage.

…

Ning Yin changed to another carriage and went to the Ministry of Justice.

In the main hall where official business was conducted, a man with dirty hands cowered in the corner, absentmindedly picking at a wooden figure.

Prince An was the third in line among the princes, a complete idiot.

Last year when the Crown Prince attempted a coup, Prince Jing purged the court with thunderous force. The Emperor, sensing something, conferred titles on this foolish third prince and moved him to a residence outside the palace.

The third prince was around twenty-four or twenty-five years old, yet still as delicate as a seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth, with thin cheeks, appearing somewhat feminine and effeminate.

With his clumsy manner, suddenly “invited” to this unfamiliar place, he looked quite timid and bewildered, his fingernails full of wood splinters, bleeding.

Ning Yin watched with interest as he fidgeted with the wooden figure, showing no impatience.

“The wedding gift sent by Third Imperial Brother, this Prince has received.”

He said coolly, “Now, it’s this Prince’s turn to reciprocate.”

“Who are you?” The third prince seemed not to understand his words, tilting his head slightly.

His eyes were very black, almost without luster, his entire being presenting a puppet-like, clay-doll foolishness.

“The wooden figure in your hand isn’t fun.”

Ning Yin tapped his knuckles. “This Prince will give you one that moves. How about that?”

He raised his eyes slightly, and an attendant brought in a person.

It was Xue Song.

He was tied to a wooden stake, his gaze avoiding the third prince, angrily staring at Ning Yin.

“If you have the ability, kill me!” Xue Song shouted in rage.

“Kill? You’re not worthy yet.”

Ning Yin adjusted his sleeves. “This Prince is newly married; it’s not suitable to see blood.”

“You…”

Soon, Xue Song couldn’t utter a complete sentence, only emitting painful howls.

Two-quarters of an hour later, all of Xue Song’s joints hung limply. When Ning Yin lifted his hand with a whip, his hand rose softly; when he touched his leg, his leg swayed slightly, as if with a few strings, he could be manipulated to make any desired movement.

“This puppet, do you like it?”

Ning Yin tossed the whip aside, asking with satisfaction.

The third prince looked at Xue Song, who resembled something pulled from the water, staring blankly for a while before stammering: “L-like it.”

Ning Yin nodded: “Third Imperial Brother surviving until now has its reasons. Unfortunately…”

He laughed, raising his hand toward the acupoint behind the third prince’s head: “Unfortunately, only by remaining an idiot for life can one live longer.”

“What are you doing?”

Xue Song widened his eyes, howling with bloodshot eyes, “Let him go!”

Memories flashed through his mind—the years they walked together in youth, all the humiliation endured, the long night talks.

He had been a nobody in the Xue family, living in the shadows. The master was the only one who believed in his abilities and entrusted him with his life.

For this trust, he could sacrifice everything.

But now, he could only watch helplessly as that frail figure fell softly to the ground, his gaze gradually becoming as empty and bewildered as a wooden doll’s.

“Ah! Ah!”

Desperate wails echoed through the hall, then suddenly stopped, returning to silence.

Ning Yin accepted a handkerchief from an attendant and then made a side trip to the prison.

Perhaps because Yu Huanchen had spoken to someone, Xue Cen wasn’t treated harshly. He had a private room, kept very clean and tidy, with all necessary food and clothing provided.

Seeing Ning Yin emerge from the darkness, Xue Cen’s sickly face showed a flash of surprise, quickly followed by acceptance.

“No need for interrogation. I’ve confessed everything. It was all my doing alone.”

He sat with his back against the wall, eyes closed, his lips a strange red: “Whether beheading or waiting for the poison to kill me, I defer to your convenience.”

Ning Yin examined Xue Cen’s miserable state for a long time as if observing some curious human specimen.

Then he concluded: “Your brain doesn’t work, but your face is quite thick.”

Xue Cen choked with anger, a humiliated red appearing on his pale face.

Ning Yin was in a hurry to pick up Yu Lingxi and had no time for idle talk. He took out the last Universal Remedy pill left by the medicine man and ordered someone to force it down Xue Cen’s throat.

“What are you making me eat… mmph!”

Xue Cen couldn’t resist, choking with red, wet eyes, covering his throat as he knelt on the ground, coughing with tears.

‘Hundred Flowers Kill’ currently had no antidote. This pill could only suppress the poison, barely preserving his life.

Ning Yin scoffed leisurely as he slowly left the prison. The darkness receded inch by inch from his flawless face, a faint smile appearing in his half-narrowed eyes.

Death was the weak’s escape; some sins were more meaningful to suffer through alive.

So from the beginning, he never intended to let Xue Cen die.

Suisui underestimated him, actually pleading for such a small matter.

“Your Highness, where to next?” an attendant asked at the Ministry of Justice gate.

Ning Yin looked at the sky; it was still early.

After thinking, he said: “To the market’s gold shop.”

He wanted to hear Suisui shake bells.

…

Just after the hour of You, Ning Yin came to pick up Yu Lingxi as promised.

After wandering for half the day, Yu Lingxi returned to the mansion and collapsed tiredly on the couch.

“Delicate.”

Though Ning Yin said this, he still lifted his robe to sit at the edge of the couch, placing one of her legs on his knee, pushing up her skirt to grip her smooth, well-proportioned flesh, gently massaging.

The man’s palm warmed her calf, heat spreading through the skin contact. Yu Lingxi, unwilling to concede, pointed her toes and said: “It’s because last night you…”

Ning Yin increased his pressure slightly, deliberately asking: “Last night what?”

When he moved, a faint tinkling sound came from his sleeve, like cicada chirps but clearer.

Yu Lingxi glared at him, the floral ornament on her forehead reflecting the warm light of the gauze lamps, brilliantly beautiful.

Remembering something, her gaze moved down along Ning Yin’s long-jointed fingers to his spotless sleeves, seeing no blood stains.

“Did the Xue family matter proceed smoothly?” Yu Lingxi asked, propping herself up.

Ning Yin seemed to see through her thoughts, revealing a lazy smile: “Within seven days of marrying Suisui, this Prince kills no one.”

As for those seeking death themselves, that was beyond his control.

Yu Lingxi made an “Oh” sound, thoughtfully saying: “Then Xue Cen is still alive— Mmph!”

Ning Yin pinched the inside of her thigh with measured pressure, saying with displeasure: “Mentioning another man at such a time deserves punishment.”

Yu Lingxi raised her brilliant eyes corners, not falling for his trick.

When the little madman was truly angry, he wouldn’t show it. The more displeased he appeared, the more he was looking for excuses to be mischievous.

Sure enough, Ning Yin’s hand continued upward. Yu Lingxi immediately softened her gaze, pressing her knees together to block his arm.

Ding-ling, his sleeve again emitted the cicada-like sound.

Yu Lingxi hastily changed the subject: “Something on you is making noise.”

Ning Yin was unmoved.

His shadow loomed over her. Yu Lingxi’s body tensed as she said abruptly: “There is a sound.”

Ning Yin withdrew his hand, taking a square brocade box from his sleeve.

Opening it revealed two gold bells strung on a red cord.

The bells were about the size of an olive, made very exquisitely, with finely detailed relief patterns. Ning Yin shook the bells, immediately producing a clear sound like yet unlike cicadas.

“Almost forgot about this.”

Ning Yin grasped Yu Lingxi’s foot as she tried to withdraw it, tying the red cord with gold bells around her ankle.

The red cord was vibrant, the gold bells dazzling, making her white skin appear like cream, incredibly beautiful.

But soon, Yu Lingxi discovered these gold bells had a lower sound than ordinary ones. With the slightest movement, they hummed like cicadas, making her ankle itch.

“Suisui said she liked the sound of bells, so I had a pair made for her. They were originally meant to be held in the mouth, but unfortunately, the copper tongues inside aren’t completely installed yet…”

Ning Yin flicked the bells with his finger, satisfyingly watching her body tremble slightly as he blinked and asked, “Do you still like them?”

Yu Lingxi bit her lip, unable to speak.

The gold bells rang half the night. So this was what the little madman had been planning when he asked her during the day if she liked the sound of gold bells.