It was a quiet, expressionless face, those eyes as deep as the sea now shot through with red, bloodshot, as if he’d wept, or as if he’d just come from something bloody.

He was still so quiet—though “quiet” wasn’t quite the right word. It was more like silence, a silence so heavy it unsettled Ziqing. Even as she looked at him, and even as he looked back at her, his expression remained utterly unreadable.

Without a sound, he carried her back onto the couch. She sat up but didn’t let go, her arms still wrapped around his neck, a faint sense of unease stirring within her, afraid of what was about to come.

It was only with this man that she ever acted so recklessly, so heedless of consequence, so at a loss for what to do next.

If she just kept holding onto him like this, could she avoid facing whatever was coming?

But he gently pried her hands loose, personally fetching a tall pillow for her to lean against. “Physician, come here.”

He finally spoke, his voice a little hoarse—but beyond that, she couldn’t read any emotion in it at all.

Having witnessed Jun Beiyue’s earlier towering fury, the poison master’s assistant was too frightened to say much, hurrying over without a word.

Jun Beiyue lifted the hem of his robe and sat down beside the bed, pulling Ziqing’s arm to rest against his own leg, gesturing for the assistant to take her pulse. He’d summoned the assistant as a precaution, just in case.

The assistant hurried forward. The Princess Consort’s addiction had already exceeded his expectations, and her constitution was even more beyond anything he could have imagined.

The poison master might not have known, but when the prince had personally gone to fetch him, he’d learned a fair amount.

After a careful examination, the assistant said respectfully, “There’s nothing seriously wrong. It’s just… perhaps…”

He hesitated, unsure whether to say more, then simply said, “This will still need the poison master’s expertise to confirm.”

Ziqing sat obediently still, not daring to move or ask questions, her lips pressed together as her gaze flicked back and forth between Jun Beiyue and the two physicians. But her attention wasn’t on what they were saying at all—it was on what she should do once they left.

“Your Highness, forgive me, but this old man will need a drop of your blood,” the poison master said respectfully.

Ziqing’s first instinct was to look at Jun Beiyue. But he paid her no attention at all, simply taking her hand, folding her finger, and personally pricking it lightly, drawing a drop of blood to hand to the poison master.

Such a small prick meant nothing to Ziqing. She watched Jun Beiyue silently, but he took her finger and brought it gently to his lips, still without so much as glancing at her.

His lips were a little cool, but soft. Her finger felt pleasant against them, and his tongue even gently traced over the wound—and yet the man himself was anything but gentle, his face still utterly expressionless.

After a moment, he released her, the wound on her fingertip already stopped bleeding. The poison master and his assistant examined the blood sample nearby, while Jun Beiyue leaned against Ziqing’s side, saying nothing.

Ziqing could sense his breathing was somewhat heavy—she must have made him truly furious. She should have known to dose the tea a little stronger.

She’d originally planned it all out so carefully—cure the poison, take a bath, and appear before him afterward, light and refreshed, looking her best.

Instead, he’d ended up witnessing her final, desperate struggle. At least, thankfully, it had been the very last of it.

“Your Highness, the Princess Consort’s constitution… could it be from the Isolated Isle?” the poison master asked bluntly. He’d had his suspicions during the cure.

“What of it?” Jun Beiyue didn’t answer directly, only asked flatly.

“The poison that was planted, and the poison she’d taken, have both been fully cured. But the Charm Fragrance still lodged in the Princess Consort’s body cannot be drawn out—unless…” The poison master hesitated.

“Go on,” Jun Beiyue said coldly.

“Unless someone can be found to replace all the blood in her body entirely!” the poison master said honestly. Ziqing startled slightly, thinking of the old man from the Poison Den.

“Understood. You may go,” Jun Beiyue said flatly, giving his assistant a look. The assistant understood—this was the matter the prince had asked him to research further with the poison master.

The assistant hesitated a moment longer, then added, “Your Highness, though the Princess Consort’s constitution is resistant to a hundred poisons, it would still be best for her to avoid contact with poison as much as possible. Poisons can interact with one another—some clash, some reinforce each other—and the Charm Fragrance, being a drug-poison, reacts especially unpredictably with other toxins. Until the Charm Fragrance is fully cured, please urge Her Highness to be careful. Should she be poisoned again, she must seek the antidote immediately, without any delay.”

“Mm.” Jun Beiyue nodded, while Ziqing pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Once the two had taken their leave, only Ziqing and Jun Beiyue remained in the room.

Only then did Jun Beiyue seem to relax, pulling Ziqing into his embrace and leaning lazily against the bedpost, saying nothing for a long, long while.

Ziqing curled up against him, so exhausted she was nearly asleep, and yet she didn’t dare close her eyes. Her heart pounded faster and faster as the silence in the room grew deeper.

Jun Beiyue’s hand, resting on her waist, absently stroked her, still without a word. Was he not going to say anything?

Say what? What was there even to say?

Ziqing pressed her cheek against his chest, quiet and timid. After a long while, still saying nothing, she slowly slid her small hands around his sides and embraced him gently.

It was only then that Jun Beiyue finally lifted his eyes and said flatly, “Was it fun?”

Poisoning him unconscious, enduring all that suffering herself—was it fun?

Refusing to explain herself to him, stubbornly insisting on her own way—was it fun?

Ziqing’s hand stiffened slightly. She said nothing, but tightened her embrace all the same. But then, without warning, Jun Beiyue suddenly erupted with fury. “Han Ziqing, was it fun?”

The outburst startled Ziqing so badly she let go at once, sitting up to look at him, only to find his eyes blazing with rage, veins bulging—a Jun Beiyue she had never seen before, terrifying, like a wild beast on the verge of madness, a demon.

But she only knit her brows tighter, still saying nothing.

Was it fun?

Not the least bit fun at all!

But it had been the very first solution that had come to her mind—she simply couldn’t bear the alternative.

“Han Ziqing, what do you think of me? Have you ever trusted me, even once? Am I incapable of protecting you?” Jun Beiyue roared, and he truly was furious—everything he had done, he had even given up the throne that was practically his for the taking, given up such a golden opportunity while the other kingdoms warred among themselves, all for what? All to cure her Charm Fragrance, to uncover the mystery of her origins!

And this was how she repaid him—still keeping everything from him, even now!

What was the point of any of it?

He was so fierce, so furious—every word seemed to be roared out of him.

Ziqing didn’t look at him, instead lowering her gaze to the dagger Liuguang lying nearby.

“Answer me. Why!” Jun Beiyue said coldly, seizing her chin and forcing her face up.

But Ziqing still said nothing.

“Are you going to tell me or not?” A trace of menace flickered through Jun Beiyue’s sharp eyes. Loving her, cherishing her, didn’t mean he would be foolish enough to indulge her in everything, to never be harsh with her.

What he wanted was this woman’s absolute trust—even her absolute reliance on him. He wouldn’t mind that at all.

But then, suddenly, Ziqing snatched up Liuguang, pointing the blade at her own thigh, offering the hilt to Jun Beiyue, saying coldly, “Stab it in.”

Jun Beiyue’s brows knit together, and he immediately knocked it away. “What are you doing?”