When Feng Qingyin ran out through the back gate of Yuyang Palace, she looked utterly disheveled, as though a storm had swept through her.

She had run so fast that her clothes were in disarray, and she cut a thoroughly wretched figure.

Lingling had agreed to wait for her at the back gate precisely out of fear that someone might see them at the front. Even so, the state her mistress was in now — fleeing as though chased by a ghost — gave Lingling quite a fright.

“My Lady, is something… is something wrong?”

Lingling hurried forward to meet her. Had her mistress been discovered, or had the Crown Prince refused her? But if she had been refused, shouldn’t she be furious? Why did she look so terrified instead?

“My Lady…”

“Don’t ask. Let’s go!” Feng Qingyin was genuinely frightened — though most of it was her own imagination running wild.

She had been rushing the entire way out, unable to stop thinking about Qing Ye’s threat to kill her and silence her for good. The fear had made her walk faster and faster, and she had nearly stumbled several times.

Now that she had made it out safely, it felt as though she had passed through the gates of death itself. Only when she had put enough distance between herself and Yuyang Palace did she finally allow herself to breathe.

Lingling, however, grew more and more anxious with each passing moment, not daring to say a word the entire way. It was not until they had crossed the threshold of Qingxiang Palace that she finally ventured to ask: “My Lady, what… what exactly happened?”

The reason Lingling had been so willing to arrange all of this was, of course, not out of any desire to help Feng Qingyin fulfill some romantic dream.

In a harem like this, love and longing were the most insubstantial of things. What Lingling cared about, naturally, was whether the Noble Consort’s belly might bear fruit.

One encounter could not guarantee conception, but it was still better than no opportunity at all.

Back in the safety of her own chambers, Feng Qingyin finally steadied herself. She was here now — Qing Ye could not possibly follow her here. He would never dare let this matter get out.

She exhaled and glanced sidelong at Lingling. “Qing Ye, the one who serves at his side, saw us.”

“Oh!” Lingling nearly cried out in alarm. “Then… doesn’t that mean…”

“It’s fine. For the sake of his own master, Qing Ye would not dare make a scene. We’ll deal with it when we get back.”

Feng Qingyin straightened her appearance. Lingling dared not say anything more, and hastily helped smooth out her mistress’s skirts. The two of them walked briskly toward the inner chamber.

The moment they entered, Feng Qingyin stepped into the inner room and was just about to change out of her clothes when her expression suddenly darkened. She turned toward Lingling, who had been about to follow her in, and said: “Go stand watch outside.”

Lingling froze for a moment, then immediately understood. She nodded hurriedly. “Yes, My Lady.”

There was only one person who ever slipped into the inner room of her chambers without a sound, never using the proper door — and that was Jian Yi.

And indeed, the figure now seated in the corner of the inner chamber was Jian Yi.

His right hand was clenched tightly, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

Feng Qingyin forced a small smile. “Jian Yi, what is it you need from me?”

Jian Yi looked at her. His handsome face, usually without expression, was now overlaid with a layer of cold frost.

Feng Qingyin’s heart wavered with unease — yet in front of Jian Yi, she had long practiced the art of concealment. “What’s wrong? Did someone upset you? Tell me, and I’ll teach them a lesson for you. How does that sound?”

Jian Yi still did not speak. Those icy eyes, carrying not a single trace of warmth, were fixed on her face, on her eyes — as though he wished to see through the surface of her face and eyes and into the very nature of who she truly was.

Yet he could only admit to himself that he had never been able to read people well. He had never been able to see through her.

He could not tell whether she was truly acting out of helplessness, or whether she did so willingly — even eagerly, without tiring of it.

He could not tell whether she was genuinely kind, or skilled at calculating her way through people’s hearts, even playing with them at will.

He truly could not see through her.

“Jian Yi, what’s the matter? Don’t… don’t look at me like that. I… I feel uneasy.”

Feng Qingyin’s greatest gift was her ability to make her eyes go soft and misty in an instant — brimming with a haze, as though she were on the verge of tears.

That kind of skill was not something an ordinary person could master.

Jian Yi continued to watch her coldly. Those tears that had once so easily softened his heart — tonight, they suddenly felt like nothing but mockery.

Her weeping was like a smile. A smile of contempt, directed at him.

His fingers tightened. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat and light, yet flat in a way that carried a trace of despair.

“Tonight, when you were late returning, I went to look for you. I didn’t expect to find that you had entered Yuyang Palace.”

Feng Qingyin’s heart lurched. He had seen her go into Yuyang Palace? Then… “Then you… you…”

“You went to attend him in his chambers. You said it was something you couldn’t avoid. I believed you.” After those words, there had been so much more he wanted to say — so much reproach — yet now, looking at Feng Qingyin, looking at this woman who had once given him a second life, Jian Yi found he could not utter a single word more.

Because he no longer wanted to say anything. He no longer wanted to hear anything.

She always had countless reasons. Every one of them left him unable to argue back. But at this moment, he had lost even the will to argue.

His heart was suddenly exhausted — so exhausted that he lacked even the strength to speak.

Jian Yi stood up and walked toward the back of the room, where his private passage was.

Then, just as suddenly, he felt a faint, hollow urge to laugh. He realized that here, in her place, he could not even walk out through the front door with dignity. If that was the case, what right did he have to reproach her for what she had done, or with whom?

“Jian Yi, where are you going?” Feng Qingyin rushed after him, trying to wrap her arms around him from behind.

She had a premonition: if Jian Yi left tonight, he would no longer be her Jian Yi. He would never again be willing to do things for her.

But there were still so many things she needed done — so very many things that could not wait — and she needed him to help with all of them.

In this palace, where danger lurked around every corner, without a master like Jian Yi, so many things would become impossible.

How could she let him simply walk away? If he left, who would protect her? Who would do what needed to be done?

“Jian Yi, I have my reasons. Jian Yi, please listen to me!”

She hurried after him. There was an exit at the back — every time, Jian Yi left through there. If he truly walked out, she had no way of catching him.

“Jian Yi, I beg you, wait.”

Jian Yi finally stopped walking. But he did not turn around.

Feng Qingyin still wanted to throw herself at him and hold him — if she held on, he would not have the heart to use force to push her away.

But this time, just as she was about to step forward, she heard Jian Yi’s voice, cold as ice: “Don’t touch me.”

“Jian Yi…” Feng Qingyin halted, not daring to make any rash move. She knew his temperament. If she really tried to grab him, he might vanish before her eyes in an instant.

“Jian Yi, I truly had no choice. I… I was forced. I… it was the Crown Prince who…”

“I watched the entire thing with my own eyes.”

When Jian Yi said those words, the last of the warmth in his heart had already turned to cold ash.

He had not expected that Feng Qingyin’s response would not be to admit her fault — but to keep searching for excuses, to justify herself to him.

He was completely and utterly done with her.

“Your kindness to me — I will repay it.”

With those words, his feet touched the ground lightly, and in an instant, he was gone.