The guards helped Ning Yin through the side door and found a clean, secluded place in the outer quarters for him to lie down.

“Near the year-end, if someone were to freeze to death in front of our gates, it would certainly be inauspicious,” Yu Lingxi instructed the night guards outside the door. “Father and brother are busy with state affairs, and Mother is still ill. I’ll take responsibility for this small matter; there’s no need to disturb them.”

The guards promptly clasped their hands and responded, “Yes.”

Yu Lingxi surveyed the room’s furnishings.

There was only a table, a chair, and a bed with an old mattress. A slightly damaged screen stood beside the bed. Though simple and small, the room was clean and tidy—more than adequate for sheltering from the wind and recovering from injuries, but not particularly warm.

The young man lay on the hard bed, his face still deathly pale, with only his eyes flashing with a hint of stubborn brightness.

The small stray cat he had rescued huddled helplessly in the corner, whimpering softly.

Yu Lingxi crouched down, her slender white hand gently stroking the cat’s messy, snow-dampened fur and scratching under its chin. The cat quickly stopped whimpering and even greedily nuzzled her palm.

“Bring two quilts, make a nest for the cat.” Yu Lingxi’s lips formed a faint smile that she quickly suppressed, and then she glanced at Ning Yin lying stiffly on the bed. “Don’t let him freeze to death.”

The servant naturally understood her meaning and hurriedly went to make arrangements.

In the dim oil lamp light, Ning Yin’s weak gaze remained fixed on Yu Lingxi.

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something.

But Yu Lingxi stood up, interrupting him. The rabbit fur scarf made her face look exquisite and charming as she calmly said, “I cannot keep you here. After the snow stops, find somewhere else to go. In any case, don’t linger here.”

Yu Lingxi said nothing more and turned to leave the outer quarters.

Behind her, more than ten servants followed with lanterns, carving out a dazzling river of light in the snow and wind.

Ning Yin watched that graceful, noble figure gradually recede, dim, and finally leave nothing but silent darkness.

His eyes, as if stained by the night, were unfathomably deep.

Even though he was mentally prepared, when he had opened his eyes under the eaves earlier and seen her face without the veil, he couldn’t hide his amazement.

He had seen many beauties in the Realm of Desire, but those were like birds in cages, their thick makeup unable to conceal the numb worldliness about them. None were as naturally clean and beautiful as she was—wearing no makeup yet outshining thousands of lights.

But she didn’t like him; Ning Yin could feel it.

He still didn’t understand the source of her contradictions. Every time she looked at him with those complex eyes, it was as if she was seeing someone else’s shadow through him.

Wanting to stay by her side long-term would likely be harder than imagined.

Just as he was contemplating his next steps, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door.

Ning Yin grew alert but remained motionless with closed eyes. It was a servant carrying an old cotton quilt, cursing and swearing about the freezing weather.

The servant tossed the quilt onto the bed, tugged it carelessly a couple of times, then added a pot of cold tea and two steamed buns before rubbing his hands and leaving.

Whether out of carelessness or unwillingness to serve a “beggar,” he forgot to close the door properly.

The half-closed wooden door banged in the north wind, and Ning Yin’s gaze gradually turned cold as he tapped his fingers irregularly on the edge of the bed.

The kitten in the corner, likely starving, boldly climbed onto the table and devoured a steamed bun.

Ning Yin’s lips curved into a pale smile as he reached out to grasp the small creature by the scruff of its neck.

The cat seemed to see some terrifying beast, its pupils contracting into a line, fur standing on end as it struggled with a meow.

“Move again and I’ll crush your neck,” the young man’s hoarse voice came from the darkness.

The little thing gave a meow and trembled into stillness.

Ning Yin tossed it into the old quilt and paid it no more attention, turning over and closing his eyes, allowing the half-open door to let in the cold wind that made his skin ache.

The oil lamp was blown out, and deathly silent darkness engulfed everything.

…

Upon waking, the snow had cleared to reveal early sunshine.

Yu Lingxi sat yawning at her dressing table, propping her chin and looking at the faint blue circles under her eyes in the mirror, asking languidly, “How is that person?”

Hutao, holding a comb, asked puzzled, “Which person?”

Yu Lingxi frowned, “The one we brought back last night.”

“Oh, you mean that injured beggar?” Hutao thought for a moment and answered truthfully, “When I got up this morning, there was no movement from the outer quarters. He must still be asleep.”

Could he be planning to stay at the residence indefinitely? The future Regent Prince, actually doing something so presumptuous.

In any case, she absolutely could not be soft-hearted again this time.

Yu Lingxi, hiding her concerns, selected a pair of jade pearl flowers from the jewelry box held by her maid, thinking that at the latest, when the snow melted, she would have to send him away.

No matter how overwhelming his power might become in the future, as long as he didn’t bother her again, it would be fine.

Having made up her mind, Yu Lingxi went to Lady Yu’s room to serve her medicine.

The Yu father and son didn’t return until noon, both looking exhausted.

Especially Yu Huanchen, who was covered in black soot with bloodshot eyes, clearly having worked through the night without sleep.

Yu Lingxi was startled by her brother’s filthy appearance and quickly asked, “Brother, you worked all night?”

Yu Huanchen gulped down several cups of water before wiping his mouth and exhaling heavily, “Yongning Street burned all night. Several mansions were destroyed. More than sixty people in the Prince of Xichuan’s mansion—none survived.”

Prince of Xichuan?

Yu Lingxi thought for a moment but had no impression of him, so she asked, “Were they burned to death?”

Although this wasn’t a state secret, it was a case of a family’s extermination, not suitable for a young girl to hear.

Yu Huanchen simply rubbed his sister’s head, smiling, “Little children shouldn’t inquire about such matters.”

His hands were covered in black soot, which got all over her hair.

“I’m not a child anymore,” Yu Lingxi helplessly dodged her brother’s hand, glaring at him before turning to leave.

Just as she reached the corridor, she heard the slightly heavy conversation between father and son from the hall.

Yu Lingxi instinctively stopped in her tracks.

Yu Huanchen said, “Father, I feel this matter isn’t so simple. Although the Prince of Xichuan was cruel, he was just an embroidered pillow—how could he have killed so many powerful fighting slaves? Even if the slaves rebelled against their master, leaving not a single survivor in such a large residence is too strange.”

General Yu said deeply, “Whether there are problems or not, the Ministry of Justice will investigate.”

“I’m afraid they won’t find anything. Last night, people were coming and going to fight the fire. The snow was either trampled or melted by the fire—no traces would remain.”

At this point, Yu Huanchen snorted, “A man who raised fighting slaves to kill ended up killed by fighting slaves—perhaps it’s his retribution.”

“Enough, this is not for us to speculate about,” General Yu interrupted his son. “After lunch, go to the Southern Yamen Imperial Guards. The Realm of Desire cannot remain.”

“So quickly!” Yu Huanchen paused, asking, “Does the Emperor want to destroy the Realm of Desire?”

“The Prince of Xichuan was, after all, imperial kin. Dying at the hands of fighting slaves—destruction is inevitable,” General Yu said. “Especially since the arena harbors corruption and has sparked a bloody fighting trend in the capital—it should be eradicated.”

Outside the door, snow fell from the branches with a plop, and Yu Lingxi’s heart sank with it.

Could the destruction of the Realm of Desire be related to what her father and brother were discussing?

But the timing had been moved up by several months, and in her previous life, the Realm of Desire should have been destroyed by a great fire.

Perhaps with her rebirth, many things were quietly changing.

She thought of Ning Yin.

He had barely escaped from the Realm of Desire last night, and today it would be razed to the ground. Could it be… too coincidental?

It felt as though something had been overlooked.

With this thought, Yu Lingxi lowered her eyes and quickly walked toward the outer quarters in the back courtyard.

The guards were all on duty within the residence. The outer quarters were empty, with no one even clearing the snow, making it very desolate.

In the secluded small room, the door was half-open with no movement inside.

“Has he left?” Yu Lingxi asked her maid.

Hutao shook her head, also looking confused: “I’ve been keeping an eye out since morning and haven’t seen him leave.”

Just then, a faint cat’s meow came from inside the room.

Yu Lingxi hesitated no longer, ascended the stone steps, and hurriedly pushed open the door.

Instantly, a gust of cold air hit her face. The small room with its wide-open door was like an ice cellar, even colder than the icy snow outside.

Yu Lingxi shrank her neck and quickly clutched her hand tighter.

Looking up, she saw that familiar slender figure curled up on the bed, his lips pale white.

The yellowed old cotton quilt was half-dragging on the ground, half-piled at his feet.

From within the quilt, a furry, flower-patterned head poked out, letting out a pitiful “meow” toward Yu Lingxi.

There wasn’t even a charcoal brazier in the room, only a pot of cold turbid tea and two rock-hard steamed buns on the table.

Yu Lingxi surveyed the scene and knew that the servants had looked down on Ning Yin as a “beggar,” treating him with negligence, and not even bothering to close the door for him.

How was such behavior any different from abuse?

The only quilt, Ning Yin had shared with the injured kitten, leaving half his body exposed to the cold wind…

No matter how much Yu Lingxi resented Ning Yin, seeing this scene, she couldn’t help but feel angry.

Ignoring the whimpering kitten begging for food, she stepped forward and pushed Ning Yin’s shoulder: “Your… Hey, wake up!”

Her palm had barely touched his burning shoulder before she quickly withdrew it.

The black-clothed young man, covered in wounds, hugged his arms and shivered. His lips were pale and dry, but his cheeks were an abnormally bright red. His breathing was heavy and rapid—clearly, he had been in the cold wind all night, worsening his injuries and developing a high fever.

If this continued, he would truly die.

Yu Lingxi’s heart tightened. She turned back and said, “Why are you still standing there? Quickly, go fetch a doctor.”

Hutao was also frightened and hurriedly said, “Yes, right away!”

“Wait,” Yu Lingxi called to her. “Enter and exit through the side door. Don’t disturb my parents.”

Especially her overly clever brother.

“I understand,” Hutao agreed repeatedly.

After the maid left to fetch a doctor, Yu Lingxi stared at the unconscious young man, her emotions complex.

The room’s only chair was covered with a thin layer of dust. Yu Lingxi, being clean by nature, didn’t dare sit on it.

After some thought, she moved to the edge of the bed, pulled a corner of the quilt to sit on, and carefully perched on the edge, examining the critically ill Ning Yin.

In her previous life, when Ning Yin’s leg condition flared up, he would also shiver with cold pain and warm himself by tormenting Yu Lingxi. She would stay by his side all night, just like this.

But even then, he was strong and domineering, as if nothing in the world could destroy him.

Not at all like the pitiful young man before her, so weak he could die at any moment.

Could such a youth be connected to the destruction of the Realm of Desire?

How did he gradually become the madman everyone feared?

Ning Yin’s breathing was rapid and burning hot. Mixed with memories of her previous life, Yu Lingxi felt, for the first time, something akin to confusion.

She reached out, hesitantly covering Ning Yin with the quilt.

“I’m not as cold-blooded as you. If you died, I would at least be willing to spare a straw mat, but…”

She lowered her eyes, “I never intended to take your life.”

Lost in thought, her hand accidentally brushed against Ning Yin’s neck as she tucked in the quilt.

It was a light touch, but the unconscious young man seemed to startle awake, suddenly opening his dark eyes.

The next moment, Yu Lingxi felt a pain in her wrist.

Then her vision turned upside down as she was violently pinned to the bed by Ning Yin.

Her ink-black hair spread across the bed like clouds, and the hand warmer rolled away with a gurgling sound.

The young man held her down from above, his gaze unfocused, his burning breath falling on her neck one gasp at a time, bringing a long-forgotten, familiar shudder…

Yu Lingxi’s eyes widened, reflecting Ning Yin’s weak yet fierce expression, as if she had returned to the embroidered curtains of her previous life.