Yu Lingxi was awakened by the cold.

After entering the palace and discovering that the young eunuch was leading her in the wrong direction, she grew suspicious but maintained her composure, saying: “I’ve left the jade pendant that the Prince instructed me to bring in the carriage. I’ll go retrieve it.”

She turned around, but before she could take two steps, a strange fragrance assaulted her.

The last scene that entered her vision was the young eunuch’s sinister face.

When she opened her eyes, she first saw a small chamber with dim oil lamps on the walls. She was lying in a corner, leaning against a stone wall, with thin streams of cold air seeping through the cracks at the base of the wall, chilling her to the bone.

Yu Lingxi’s hands and feet were bound with coarse rope. She shifted her body and laboriously kicked away the straw and felt blankets piled in the corner, revealing square blocks of ice stacked underneath.

If she wasn’t mistaken, she had been locked in some ice cellar.

An ice cellar in the imperial city.

Was it that eunuch and the round-faced palace maid who had brought her here? Whose people were they?

Did Ning Yin know that a spy had infiltrated the palace maids of Prince Jing’s mansion?

With thoughts swirling, taking advantage of being unguarded in the secret cellar, Yu Lingxi turned her head and raised her bound hands to feel her hair bun, only to find the cold white jade spiral hairpin.

Since she had entered the palace for the vigil, she hadn’t brought any extra hairpins, not even a sharp tool to cut the ropes.

While thinking, she heard a muffled sound from above.

Yu Lingxi grew alert and quickly hid the jade hairpin among the ice blocks in the corner.

At the same time, a heavy bluestone slab was moved aside, and cold light poured in as a man wearing a hooded cloak, his face hidden, slowly descended the stone steps with the help of an attendant.

He stood before Yu Lingxi, with only a pointed chin visible from beneath the shadowy hood, his fingers habitually picking at a piece of wood.

After a moment, a hoarse, sluggish voice emerged: “This is regrettably necessary. I beg the Princess Consort’s forgiveness.”

His tone was somewhat weak, and though it was an adult’s voice, he spoke like a child, stiff and methodical.

“Who are you, sir? What do you intend to do?”

In Yu Lingxi’s memory, there was no such character.

The man concealed in the cloak said: “Ning Yin has the power to cover the sky with one hand. Luring him into a trap is no easy task. So, I could only resort to this strategy, borrowing a token from the Princess Consort.”

As he spoke, the man caught sight of Yu Lingxi’s jade hairpin hidden on the ice block. The pin was coated with a layer of frost, making the faint reddish tinge appear especially cold and enchanting.

Yu Lingxi’s heart stirred, and she pretended to be afraid: “This hairpin was made by the Prince himself for me. Could it perhaps be used to ransom my life?”

The man seemed to be considering the authenticity of her words.

Behind him, the round-faced palace maid carefully stepped forward and whispered something. Only then did the man slightly tilt his head, signaling the attendant to retrieve the hairpin.

“Take this to Ning Yin, tell him the Princess Consort is in my hands.”

He pulled out a sealed note from his sleeve and instructed in a lowered voice, “If he doesn’t want his new bride to become a new widow, he should do as I say and come alone.”

As the attendant left to arrange this, the man did not depart.

He sat down at the only table in the small cellar, took out a small file, and began intently carving the piece of wood.

The sharp wood splinters pierced his fingers, bloodying his fingertips, yet he seemed oblivious.

The ice cellar was very cold, the stone wall behind feeling almost like a freezing blade piercing through Yu Lingxi’s thin back.

She curled her body and observed the wood-carving man in the deathly silence. After a while, she tentatively called out: “Your Highness, Third Prince.”

The man’s wood-carving motion noticeably paused.

His tense, frail form gradually relaxed, and he exhaled a long breath before raising his hand to remove the wide hood.

He turned around, revealing an effeminate face. His pitch-black, lusterless eyes stared at Yu Lingxi for a long time before asking: “How did the Princess Consort recognize me?”

“In this world, not many dare to directly call Ning Yin by name.”

Yu Lingxi’s gaze moved downward, lingering briefly on the jade pendant hanging at the man’s slender waist.

Having lived two lifetimes, she had never known that the Third Prince wasn’t truly an imbecile.

Indeed, born into a ruthless imperial family where one could be devoured completely, not learning to conceal one’s talents and ambitions would likely have led to an early grave like the other princes.

With frost on her eyelashes, Yu Lingxi exhaled a cloud of white breath and said: “We can talk.”

“What does the Princess wish to discuss? Why did I pretend to be a fool, or when I place someone by Ning Yin’s side?”

The Third Prince continued his work, meticulously carving the wood into a human figure. “That palace maid is not my person.”

“What?” Yu Lingxi doubted the truthfulness of the Third Prince’s statement.

If the round-faced palace maid wasn’t working for the Third Prince, then why would she betray Ning Yin and aid the oppressor?

“Blame Ning Yin for being too arrogant.”

As if seeing through Yu Lingxi’s doubts, the Third Prince said, “He controls the court and the country, yet has no intention of ascending the throne. Some of his subordinates would inevitably waver. For certain people, regardless of how powerful a regent is, he remains merely a subject. Rather than serving a subject’s subject, why not serve the emperor directly? Don’t you think that’s logical?”

What Yu Lingxi feared most had still happened.

“So Your Highness the Third Prince holds me hostage to make Ning Yin use his power to support your ascension to the throne?”

Yu Lingxi smiled faintly, calmly saying, “Trading a woman for an empire—even a fool knows it’s a losing deal. He won’t come.”

“But the Princess shouldn’t forget that madmen and fools don’t require equivalence in their dealings.”

The Third Prince continued to file the wooden figure for a while before saying slowly, sluggishly: “It doesn’t matter if I can’t get the throne. I won’t live long anyway.”

Yu Lingxi shivered as she examined that effeminate face, trying to determine the truth of his words.

The Third Prince turned his head, his gaze meeting hers.

Those hollow, black eyes sent a chill down Yu Lingxi’s spine.

Fortunately, he quickly turned away, his back to Yu Lingxi, as he reached behind to part the scattered hair at the back of his head.

In the dim lamplight, a tiny, cold silver glint became faintly visible among his hair strands.

The light was dim, and Yu Lingxi looked for a long time before realizing that the silver glint at the back of his head was a needle—a silver needle almost completely embedded in an acupuncture point.

“This is…”

She felt numb all over as she wondered who had viciously inserted this needle into his head.

“This needle, I had someone insert it.”

The Third Prince calmly lowered his hand, allowing his hair to close again, concealing that cold silver glint.

“Why would Your Highness do such a thing?”

Yu Lingxi bit her trembling lips, speaking to maintain awareness despite the cold.

The corners of the Third Prince’s mouth twitched.

Yu Lingxi guessed he wanted to smile, but whether due to the aftereffects of pretending to be a fool for many years or because of the silver needle, even this subtle expression appeared quite strange.

“A few days ago, Ning Yin said that only by being a fool for life could one live long.”

His voice was slow, “But pretending to be a fool is a painful thing. I would rather die lucidly as a prince than live muddled as a fool.”

So he took extreme measures, not hesitating to insert a silver needle into his brain, to resist the restraint that Ning Yin had placed on his acupuncture points, exchanging it for temporary clarity.

“I have something I must accomplish.”

As he said this, the Third Prince’s voice softened somewhat, “The Princess need not fear. I only want Ning Yin’s life.”

“Why?”

Yu Lingxi twisted her fingers, “Just because the throne is within reach, and Ning Yin stands in your way?”

The Third Prince was silent for a long time before saying very softly: “Because Shao Wei died at his hands. He was my only close friend.”

Shao Wei was Xue Song’s courtesy name.

So in her previous life, Xue Song had gone to such lengths to poison her to assassinate Ning Yin, actually for… the Third Prince?

As everything connected, Yu Lingxi vaguely understood why Xue Song had been so devoted to the Third Prince.

Among all those scheming for power, he was the only one willing to open his heart to a subordinate.

Through past and present lives, through many twists and turns, these two had somehow made it to the end.

“It’s finished.”

The Third Prince showed a childlike shyness as he placed the wooden figure at Yu Lingxi’s feet, “A gift for you.”

The wooden figure had an elegant hairstyle and beautiful features, looking exactly like Yu Lingxi.

…

In the Fengxian Hall, the coffin lay isolated.

Ning Yin, dressed in snow-white robes, cast his cold black eyes toward Chen Feng kneeling on the steps: “I ask you, where is she?”

The late February weather was somewhat chilly, yet a large drop of sweat fell from Chen Feng’s nose. His usual smile was gone as he bowed his head and said: “According to the escorting guards, a small eunuch and Xiao Man voluntarily came forward to guide the Princess Consort away.”

“Xiao Man?”

“She’s a palace maid in our mansion responsible for laundry and grooming. If not for a familiar face, the Princess would not have trusted so easily…”

Under the pressure of frigid killing intent, Chen Feng swallowed, his voice lowering.

In this deathly silence, a young eunuch approached, timidly presenting a sealed note and the jade hairpin.

“Your High-Highness…”

The eunuch, with a quavering voice, said, “Someone told this humble servant to give th-this to you…”

Upon seeing the familiar spiral cloud-patterned white jade hairpin, Ning Yin’s eyes suddenly darkened.

He reached for the jade hairpin; it was cold to the touch, still beaded with droplets of water, the blood-dyed red streaks spreading like sunset clouds along the pin.

Ning Yin gently removed a piece of straw stuck to the hairpin, unfolded the note, read it, and laughed.

During the national mourning, the atmosphere in the hall was extremely solemn, making his laughter particularly inappropriate.

“Thank you for your trouble.”

Ning Yin tossed the note into the bronze basin used for burning paper money and rose, and walked toward the eunuch, smiling calmly and harmlessly.

The young eunuch who had risked delivering the message sighed in relief.

Even in war, messengers were traditionally spared. It seemed that no matter how ruthless Prince Jing was, he was still a reasonable person.

Just as the young eunuch was about to rise, a tall shadow loomed over him.

Then his entire body flew through the air, crashing into the coffin by the hall door. Thick crimson sprayed onto the funeral banners, splashing blood in all directions.

Outside the hall, a sea of white-clad mourners knelt, none knowing what had happened, yet none dared to ask.

Officials and concubines dressed in mourning clothes all moved on their knees, automatically clearing a path for the deer-skin boots splattered with fresh blood to stride past.

Ning Yin seized Chen Feng’s sword and headed toward the North Palace.

He had set himself a rule: no bloodshed during the first seven days of marriage, to stay clean and accompany Suisui.

But now he could care about no rules, no cleanliness. His mind held only the most primitive urge: kill, kill, kill.

Ding-ling, the muted bell sound trembled with the spattering of fresh blood.

As corpses fell one after another, for the first time in his life he regretted that because of this damned rule, he hadn’t killed Ning Xuan at the Court of Judicial Review that day.

The pawns Ning Xuan had arranged could hardly resist him. By the time he reached Luoyun Palace, Ning Yin’s sleeves were completely dyed red with fresh blood.

Pushing open the palace doors, with blood-stained clothes flying, the tip of his notched sword pressing against the ground, Ning Yin’s eyes were saturated with the red of blood.

The Third Prince was pouring alcohol from a jar onto the curtains in the hall. Seeing Ning Yin burst in with a bloody aura, he appeared somewhat surprised.

“You came so quickly.”

He said, taking down the candle from the table.

The flickering flame could not reflect any luster in his hollow eyes.

“Where is she?”

Ning Yin dragged his sword forward, casually extinguishing the poisonous incense on the table.

“She is in a place… where you will never find her… ugh!”

The moment the candle fell to the ground, flames quickly spread along the curtains and up to the rafters.

Ning Yin seemed oblivious, his robes billowing in the heat waves, his blood-stained face as deathly cold as a fallen god.

“Where. Is. She?”

He tightened his fingers, asking each word distinctly and softly.

The raging fire distorted human faces. Blood flowed from the Third Prince’s nose and mouth as he said brokenly: “Why not… see… whether you burn to death first, or she…”

He tremblingly raised his hand to touch the silver needle at the back of his head.

Then suddenly pulled it out, thrusting it toward Ning Yin.

The silver needle pierced through a palm.

The Third Prince’s eyes returned to their blank state the moment the silver needle was removed. His mouth twitched, and he collapsed to the ground like a broken puppet.

…

Faint smoke began to seep through the bluestone slab overhead. The small space that had been bone-chillingly cold gradually became hot and humid.

Unable to hear any sound from the ice cellar, Yu Lingxi didn’t know what was happening outside.

She struggled to her feet and hopped with difficulty to retrieve the oil lamp from the wall.

The lamp, made of brass, was burning hot. Yu Lingxi ignored her burned fingers and used the weak flame to burn the coarse rope around her wrists after taking the lamp down.

“Hurry, hurry…”

She prayed continuously, and finally, amid the searing pain of burning, the coarse rope snapped.

She quickly untied the ropes around her feet, lifted her skirt, and ran up the stone steps, attempting to open the bluestone slab that covered the ice cellar entrance.

But the bluestone was far too heavy; she couldn’t possibly open it from inside with her strength alone.

And it was hot, very hot.

Yu Lingxi sniffed the faint smell of smoke leaking through the cracks and knew that there must be a fire outside.

“Ning Yin…”

Her heart tightened, not knowing if Ning Yin was involved at this moment. The most urgent matter now was to escape quickly and report her safety to him.

But the stone slab was so heavy, and there was a fire outside—how could she escape?

Suddenly thinking of something, Yu Lingxi bit her red lips and quickly ran back into the ice cellar, placing her hand at the base of the stone wall.

Sure enough, thin streams of cold air seeped through the stone cracks.

If she wasn’t mistaken, there was another ice chamber behind the stone wall.

Ice chambers had large reserves of ice and usually had secret passages connecting to the moat and imperial pools for convenient ice transportation during winter. With good luck, finding a secret passage could provide an escape route.

Yu Lingxi stood up and quickly searched for a mechanism on the wall.

Finding a slightly protruding bluestone brick, she pressed it hard, and the stone wall indeed opened with a rumble, revealing an enormous ice storage room.

Yu Lingxi’s eyes lit up, and she instinctively stepped into that seemingly endless expanse of ice and snow. After just two steps, she felt a tingling sensation at her neck.

She stopped, covered her chest, and listened carefully.

Yes, it was the golden bell vibrating!

Ning Yin was nearby! He was in the sea of fire!

Her heart felt as if gripped by invisible hands. Yu Lingxi shook her bell, then shook it again.

After hearing a response, she turned back and ran, taking two or three steps up the stone stairs, using all her might to push against the bluestone slab.

“Ning Yin!”

Yu Lingxi patted the stone slab. “I’m fine, can you hear me?”

But it was in vain.

The golden bell vibrated with increasing urgency, seemingly responding to her previous shaking.

The little madman hadn’t left; he was still looking for her.

Looking for her in the sea of fire.

“Open… up…”

The stone slab grew increasingly hot. Blood seeped from beneath her fingernails as she pushed upward with her entire body, saying with a choked voice, “Wei—Qi—”

With a rumble, the bluestone slab was forcefully lifted.

The next moment, scorching heat rushed in.

Ning Yin, veins bulging on his arms, stood against the crackling fierce flames, his eyes meeting those of the sweat-drenched Yu Lingxi.

Ding-ling, the sounds of their bells became one.