Impossible, Ning Yin quickly rejected this guess: if even Yu Yuan and his son couldn’t recognize him, how could a sheltered girl who rarely left home?
Moreover, from all his observations, Yu Lingxi’s circle was extremely simple, without any involvement in palace factions or royal parties.
She harbored a mystery yet to be solved, that light in the mist growing ever more dazzling, ever more brilliant, drawing people to approach and explore.
According to Ning Yin’s previous temperament, anyone who had seen his humble and wretched side should be killed after being used, and everything burned clean.
But now…
His eyes darkened slightly as he gradually restrained his smile, stood up to pick up the boots, and dusted them off.
Now, somehow, he found himself reluctant to kill her.
The moon’s shadow slanted westward, the night was still.
By the window, a moth flapped its wings toward the dancing candlelight, instantly turning to smoke and dissipating. It was already impossible to distinguish who was the schemer and who was the prey.
…
Late March, the Spring Banquet.
Yu Lingxi had firmly decided to feign illness to avoid this banquet. Before she could even go pet the flower cat to induce an allergic reaction, her elder sister fell ill first.
Rose ringworm, a patch of red swelling on her face, quite severe.
During the previous northern expedition, both the Yu father and son had fallen ill and missed the march. This time for the Spring Banquet, if both daughters claimed illness and did not attend, it would inevitably arouse the Emperor’s suspicion.
After much consideration, Yu Lingxi could only represent the Yu family at the banquet.
“Young Miss, why don’t you change your outfit?”
Hutao looked somewhat troubled at Yu Lingxi who wore no makeup, concerned for her mistress: “At the banquet, all the young ladies will be dressed up, doing their utmost to show themselves off. Even with your beauty, such plain attire will make you seem unremarkable.”
“Being unremarkable is exactly what I want.”
Yu Lingxi smiled, pushing away the golden hairpin in Hutao’s hand. She stood up, checked herself in the mirror from front to back, and satisfied, went out the door.
A figure stood by the carriage—it was Ning Yin.
Seeing Yu Lingxi descend the steps surrounded by her maids, a faint ripple passed through his dark eyes.
Today she wore only plain clothes, her hair simply arranged with a jade hairpin inserted at an angle, accentuating her naturally spirited face, a pleasure to behold.
Ning Yin’s lips moved slightly, and he proactively extended his arm forward.
Yu Lingxi rested her hand on his arm to board the carriage. Her plain white hand touched and left immediately, leaving a faint feminine fragrance on his hard leather wristguard.
Remembering something, Yu Lingxi lifted the carriage curtain again and said to Ning Yin: “For this palace entry, you need not follow.”
The area outside the palace was filled with a mix of people, and she feared someone might recognize Ning Yin’s identity, disrupting her plans.
Ning Yin obediently nodded: “All right.”
A moment later, he added with a smile: “The palace banquet will be crowded. I hope Young Miss will be careful and avoid conspicuous places.”
Yu Lingxi was puzzled, feeling there was more to Ning Yin’s words as if he was hinting at something.
However, even without his reminder, Yu Lingxi knew how to avoid standing out.
“I understand,” she lowered the carriage curtain.
Yu Huanchen, accompanying his sister to the banquet, observed their conversation intently, his sword-like eyebrows slightly furrowed.
“Qing Xiao.”
He called for the guard and lowered his voice: “Find someone to protect my sister, don’t let her get too close to that Wei Qi. Also, investigate that boy’s experience before he went to the fighting arena. Report to me immediately if you find anything.”
The palace banquet was set in the royal garden.
Yu Lingxi had just lifted her skirt to get off the carriage when she saw a horseman trotting over, calling: “Yu Official…”
Upon seeing Yu Lingxi’s face, Nanyang Jun Wang Ning Ziluo’s smile froze, showing a trace of awkwardness: “Ah, it’s the Second Young Lady.”
“Young Jun Wang,” Yu Lingxi curtseyed.
Ning Ziluo hurriedly dismounted and looked inside Yu Lingxi’s carriage, as if searching for someone.
“Where is Official Yu?”
Ning Ziluo made a surprised sound, “Last time during the spring hunt, I owe her thanks for risking herself to save me. I’ve never had the chance to thank her in person.”
The official was her sister’s title. Because of her excellent archery, at seventeen she had been promoted by His Majesty to be the only female commander of the Hundred Riders, responsible for guarding the palace women during sacrifices or outings.
“My elder sister is unwell and cannot attend the banquet.”
Yu Lingxi smiled slightly, “I will convey your gratitude to her.”
With that, she did not linger for small talk and entered with Yu Huanchen, who had removed his sword, to attend the banquet.
West City, Golden Cloud Temple.
It took Ning Yin some time to shake off that troublesome guard. When he arrived at the meditation room’s secret chamber, a tall royal guard carrying a bronze greatsword had been waiting for a long time.
“Your Highness!”
Seeing Ning Yin stride in with his hands behind his back, the royal guard hurriedly bowed and knelt, his trembling Adam’s apple showing both loyalty and fear as he said hoarsely, “This subordinate was late due to circumstances, please punish me.”
The black-clothed young man turned to sit on the small couch, looking at him from the corner of his eye: “Since you know you’re late, do I need to act personally?”
The royal guard, knowing that his lax surveillance had almost led to his master being harmed by the West Chuan Jun Wang Ning Changrui, broke into a cold sweat. He swallowed and drew the heavy sword from his back with a swing.
With the sound of tables and chairs breaking like dry twigs, a little finger rolled on the ground, offered as an apology.
The heavy sword fell, raising dust.
The royal guard covered his severed finger, blood streaming through the cracks between his fingers. He endured the pain and looked at Ning Yin’s still-bandaged left hand: “Your Highness has been in hiding for so long, enduring such danger and humiliation. Now that you’ve summoned us subordinates, are you planning to make a move…”
“Not so fast.”
Ning Yin’s tone was casual, “The Yu family controls significant military force. Such a large piece of fat meat—absorption is more valuable than destruction.”
The royal guard showed momentary surprise, then regained his composure: “What does Your Highness mean?”
As if recalling something interesting, Ning Yin suddenly smiled: “An interesting prey should be fattened up and eaten slowly for the most enjoyment, don’t you think?”
His gaze fell on the brand-new deerskin boots on his feet, which had two very small crimson spots—blood that had accidentally splashed when the royal guard cut off his finger.
The smile in Ning Yin’s eyes faded.
He played idly with the short blade between his fingers. After a while, he said flatly: “Zhe Ju, you’ve dirtied my new boots.”
Despite his toneless voice, Zhe Ju seemed to feel a piercing cold killing intent directed at him, pressing his eight-foot frame to the ground, prostrating himself and unable to rise.