Wei Ling was enraged to see Lu Jiaxue gripping Luo Yining’s throat. This was the daughter he had finally brought home, whom he wanted to cherish and protect from harm.

He had helped Lu Jiaxue advance his career, followed him in battles for years, and even assisted in this treasonous plot. Yet now Lu Jiaxue was trying to kill his daughter!

What grave error could his daughter have committed to warrant such treatment, especially within the Duke of Ying’s residence? He knew Lu Jiaxue was cold-hearted but never imagined he would harm his daughter.

Wei Ling strode over, snatching Yining away, and glared coldly at Lu Jiaxue.

In truth, Lu Jiaxue had already released Luo Yining, but she still struggled to recover in Wei Ling’s arms. She had felt on the brink of death, experiencing that suffocating pain once again. The agony of being unable to breathe was excruciating, especially when inflicted by Lu Jiaxue—again, it was Lu Jiaxue!

She clutched her bruised throat, coughing incessantly. Tears streamed down her face involuntarily, perhaps due to her brush with death.

She felt Wei Ling holding her tightly, comforting her, “Mei’er, it’s alright now. Don’t cry. Father is here.”

Wei Ling placed her on the couch in the study, gently moving her hand to examine her neck. A faint handprint marred her delicate skin. He clenched his fists and turned to Lu Jiaxue, asking through gritted teeth, “What were you trying to do? Kill my daughter?”

Lu Jiaxue stared at the redness on Luo Yining’s neck, lost in thought. Her words had indeed given him pause.

“Lu Jiaxue… it hurts…”

She had always been sensitive to pain. Initially neglected at home, she had endured silently. It was only after marrying him that she allowed herself to be more vulnerable. Whenever he was rough with her, even slightly, she would express discomfort. Once, as she read in a pavilion, basking in sunlight, he playfully poked her waist to get her attention. She had looked at him irritably, saying, “Lu Jiaxue, what are you doing?” Years earlier, on their wedding night, overwhelmed beneath him, she had whispered, “It hurts…”

In these moments, she always had a hint of coquettishness, though Yining herself might not have realized it. She never thought of herself as coy, but each time he heard it, his heart filled with tenderness. Knowing her low pain tolerance, he always restrained himself, enduring for her sake.

But Yining never knew this, often accusing him of being inconsiderate. In reality, he had always been mindful, but his carefree nature at the time meant he brushed things off easily. Yining often felt he didn’t take her seriously, as he seemed to approach everything with the same casual attitude.

Even years later, after she fell from a cliff during a spring outing, leaving no intact remains, he would hear her voice in his dreams: “Lu Jiaxue… it hurts.”

Each time he woke, sleep eluded him, that voice permeating the gloomy darkness.

This young girl’s tone was strikingly similar to hers, almost creating an illusion for him.

Lu Jiaxue closed his eyes briefly before responding, “My apologies. I had no intention of killing her. I was merely trying to frighten her.”

Wei Ling took a deep breath. Though familiar with Lu Jiaxue’s nature, he couldn’t tolerate such treatment of his daughter.

He set his sword on the table and approached the bed, gently patting her cheek and calling to her. Yining had already regained her composure. Wei Ling wore dark attire with arm guards, his sword nearby. His military dress gave him a fierce air unlike his usual fatherly demeanor. One glance told Yining that Wei Ling’s late return meant he too had been involved in the plot against the Crown Prince. The estate’s earlier silence was likely due to their clearing the area.

Unfortunately, she had stumbled into Lu Jiaxue’s hands.

She vaguely remembered saying something to Lu Jiaxue in her panic but couldn’t recall exactly what… Yining looked up at Lu Jiaxue, noticing his injured arm. He had already sat down, clutching it. An attendant brought bandages and medicine to dress the wound. His forceful actions earlier had caused the injury to bleed.

She hoped she hadn’t said anything unusual… Lu Jiaxue’s reaction seemed calm enough.

Steadying herself with Wei Ling’s hand, she stood up and shook her head at him, saying, “Father, I’m fine now.”

Though the Duke of Ying’s title outranked the Marquis of Ningyan, status wasn’t determined by titles alone. Lu Jiaxue, as Left Commander-in-Chief, wielded immense military power and influence. If he dared to kill the Crown Prince—a crime punishable by the execution of nine generations—Wei Ling couldn’t afford to provoke him. While they were ostensibly friends of equal standing, in reality, Wei Ling had to defer to Lu Jiaxue’s decisions.

There was no need to create conflict between Wei Ling and Lu Jiaxue over her; it would only disadvantage Wei Ling.

Wei Ling, recalling the earlier scene, still simmered with anger. Had it been anyone else, he would have killed them to avenge his daughter. But it was Lu Jiaxue. The girl’s acquiescence showed she didn’t want conflict between him and Lu Jiaxue. Of course, he also understood Lu Jiaxue—if he truly intended to kill Yining, he wouldn’t have waited for Wei Ling’s intervention.

Wei Ling gently stroked Yining’s hair, asking softly, “Why are you here so late? Did you need to tell me something?”

Yining, her throat still sore, coughed a few times before replying, “I came to check on you since you hadn’t returned. When I found no guards in your courtyard, I entered…”

Wei Ling had no intention of involving his daughter in the bloody affairs of court politics—plots of murder and usurpation were not for her to know. Hearing that she came out of concern for his late return, he felt an odd warmth in his heart. He smiled and explained, “I was at the training grounds with the Marquis of Ningyan, practicing drills. That’s why I’m late. You should go to bed now. I’ll have a maid escort you back. We can talk about anything else in the morning.”

Yining nodded, having no desire to linger in this fraught situation. Wei Ling glanced at Zhenzhu, signaling her to take Yining back. Zhenzhu, who had been trembling against an antique shelf, quickly came to support Yining. As they were about to leave the study, eager to depart swiftly, Lu Jiaxue spoke coolly, “Stop. I haven’t said you could leave.”

Wei Ling suppressed his frustration, saying, “Lu Jiaxue, what more do you want…”

Lu Jiaxue continued, “The estate is surrounded by Lu family troops. Without my permission, she cannot leave.”

Yining felt anger rising within her. How shameless! To throw his weight around so arrogantly in someone else’s home!

Lu Jiaxue flexed his hand, seemingly satisfied with the bandaging, and nodded for his subordinate to withdraw. He stood and approached Yining. She gazed at his face, both familiar and strange. Lu Jiaxue was now in his thirties. Apart from his facial features, she could hardly recognize him as the carefree, constantly smiling Lu Jiaxue who had once been by her side.

Then again, he was Commander Lu now, not Lu Jiaxue.

“What do you want?” Yining turned to face him coldly. “I heard what I heard. If you want to kill me, then do it. Make it quick.”

Lu Jiaxue stepped closer without speaking, causing Yining to retreat instinctively. How could she not fear him? Her palms were sweating.

After a long silence, Lu Jiaxue asked, “Why did you call me Lu Jiaxue earlier?”

Since killing his brother and becoming Commander, years had passed without anyone addressing him so directly by name. The familiar tone of that phrase couldn’t be easily dismissed.

Yining, unaware she had called him by name, remained silent, unsure how to respond. Wei Ling, unable to stand by any longer, stepped forward to shield Yining. “Lu Jiaxue, must we come to blows before you’re satisfied?”

Just then, footsteps sounded outside, followed by an announcement: “Sir, Minister Cheng has arrived.”

Lu Jiaxue glanced at Yining once more, seemingly letting her off this time. “Very well, you may go.”

Yining bowed slightly, saying, “I apologize for the mistake earlier. I hope the Commander won’t take offense.” Lu Jiaxue’s expression tightened again as he turned to look at her. Yining inwardly wondered what was wrong now. Did he still find something amiss? She shouldn’t have spoken in his presence at all. The more they interacted, the more likely he was to notice peculiarities, given their once-close relationship.

Without waiting for Lu Jiaxue to speak, she quickly left Wei Ling’s study with Zhenzhu. Outside, they found the East Garden filled with guards, the night air cold and oppressive. She heard Lu Jiaxue’s deep voice faintly from inside: “…Send him in.”

His voice, once so clear, now sounded eerie when lowered.

Yining took a deep breath. As she left the courtyard, she glanced back to see Cheng Lang entering, his expression solemn.

What were these people up to… Yining no longer wanted to know. There was no point in prying into these matters. She knew it would all settle eventually—the Crown Prince would ascend the throne, and Lu Jiaxue would be promoted to general. The court was ever-changing, one act following another, never a moment’s peace. Killing the Crown Prince today was just the beginning; the darkest days of the court were yet to come.

Back in her quarters, Daimao prepared hot water for Yining’s bath. Soaking in the warm tub, she felt a throbbing pain in her forehead. As the pressure subsided, a bone-deep fatigue set in. Outside, all remained silent. Zhenzhu applied rose ointment to her hands, saying, “Madam Tong told me the young master insisted on waiting for you before sleeping. He only just fell asleep a while ago. Let me help you to bed now. You’re unwell today, so perhaps you should take leave tomorrow and not pay respects to the old madam…”

Yining had initially wanted to be diligent, paying morning and evening respects to Wei Lao Taitai daily. Now, exhausted, she just wanted to let it all go. She had come to terms with her position as the young lady of the Duke of Ying’s household. What harm could come from being a bit lazy? Who would dare criticize her?

She nodded absently in agreement. Zhenzhu gently tilted her face to tend to the injury on her neck. What had initially appeared as mere redness now showed hints of purple bruising. Commander Lu’s grip must have been forceful indeed. Daimao, watching nearby, gasped, “Miss, what happened? Who in the estate would dare lay hands on you?”

Zhenzhu shook her head, signaling for silence, and applied a bruise-healing salve to Yining’s neck. The incident couldn’t be spoken of.