The snow broke a withered branch in the back courtyard with a crack.
The hand gripping Yu Lingxi’s wrist was scorching hot, restraining her like hot iron, too powerful for a thin, gravely ill young man.
Yu Lingxi’s pupils reflected Ning Yin’s handsome, fierce face. It seemed to overlap with her previous life, and for a moment, she thought he would crush her neck without hesitation.
But it was only for an instant. Ning Yin seemed to regain awareness from his instinctive alertness, the coldness in his eyes dissipating, his tense body gradually relaxing.
Yu Lingxi finally caught her breath and struggled, “Let go!”
She must have touched one of Ning Yin’s wounds, as he groaned and flipped over, falling straight down with his burning breath like scorching fire on her ear.
Too close!
Yu Lingxi’s heart tingled as she hurriedly pushed his head away forcefully, rising to adjust her slightly disheveled hair and clothes.
In her previous life, Yu Lingxi certainly wouldn’t have dared to defy him in the slightest. Even now, she couldn’t forget the terrible consequences of that kick she gave him before her death.
But this wasn’t her previous life. The one at others’ mercy was Ning Yin, not her.
Yu Lingxi raised her slender white hand, but seeing Ning Yin’s face flushed red with fever, her hand paused in mid-air and ultimately didn’t fall.
Instead, she pulled the quilt and shook it, covering Ning Yin’s pitiful yet hateful face completely—out of sight, out of mind.
“Miss, the doctor has arrived,” Hutao’s voice sounded at the right moment, breaking the impasse.
The charcoal brazier crackled. The little stray cat, having eaten and drunk its fill, found a warm spot and curled up to sleep.
The elderly doctor took Ning Yin’s pulse for a while, then lifted his clothes to examine his wounds, his brows furrowing increasingly.
“Two broken ribs, with bone fragments piercing the lungs, severe blood loss, plus exposure to cold—multiple conditions compounded, triggering high fever.”
The old doctor stroked his graying beard, shaking his head and sighing, “That he has survived such severe internal injuries until now is already a miracle. I’ll prescribe some medicine for external application and internal consumption. If he can make it through tomorrow night, then he’ll have saved his life.”
Yu Lingxi hadn’t realized Ning Yin’s injuries were so serious.
Perhaps because in her previous life, he had been too insanely powerful, capable of destroying heaven and earth with nothing standing in his way, Yu Lingxi had overlooked that he too was made of flesh and blood, capable of feeling pain and dying.
If she hadn’t seen his miserable state as a youth, it might have been fine, but fate made her witness it.
Looking at Ning Yin’s deathly pale lips, her heart sank heavily, unable to reach the bottom.
Her detached heart was moved for the first time. Yu Lingxi gave Hutao a signal with her eyes and said softly, “Light two more braziers for warmth, and select two clever servants to brew medicine and attend to him. Also… if he wakes up, report to me immediately.”
Hutao wondered why her mistress cared so much about a “beggar,” but seeing Yu Lingxi’s solemn expression, she had no choice but to obey and make arrangements, her attitude much more serious than the previous night.
Once the small room had warmed up and the servants had changed Ning Yin’s medicine, Yu Lingxi felt reassured enough to leave.
That night, clouds obscured the moon.
The young man lying on the bed suddenly opened his eyes.
His strong will, forged through years of assassination attempts and crises, allowed him to maintain extraordinary alertness whether sick or seriously injured.
He sat up straight, lowered his head to look, and could faintly distinguish in the darkness that the bandages on his chest were clean and tidy, and his dislocated wrist, red and swollen, had been treated with an ointment to reduce swelling and bruising.
It seemed that the cold wind of the previous night had not been endured in vain.
During the half-day he had been unconscious, he had received very meticulous care, which he knew without guessing came from her.
Ning Yin raised his hand, fingers slightly curled, his palm seemingly still retaining the soft feeling of the young woman’s wrist. He vaguely remembered becoming delirious with fever, mistaking that girl for an enemy, and nearly hurting her…
Fortunately, he hadn’t exposed his weakness.
The General’s mansion was the best hiding place. Being near this young lady was much more convenient than being in the Realm of Desire. He had to find a way to stay.
However, before that, he had more important matters to attend to.
Ning Changrui was dead, and the person in the palace would eventually investigate the arena. He must deal with everything cleanly before then.
With this thought, a dark shade flashed through Ning Yin’s eyes. He supported himself to get out of bed, stepped over the sleeping servant on the floor, and walked toward the back door on the moonlit floor.
Avoiding the patrols, he climbed over the wall and landed, his face as white as the accumulated snow. He spat out a mouthful of dark, congealed blood with an “oomph.”
As if feeling no pain, he calmly wiped away the crimson from the corner of his mouth and lifted his finger to whistle.
With the sound of wings cutting through the swift wind, a gray falcon swept across the moonlight and steadily landed on his arm.
The crescent moon tilted westward, and the capital slept in silence.
Gradually, thick smoke rose from the direction of Shengping Street, and the waning moon was dyed blood-red by the flames.
Yu Lingxi was awakened by the clamor of gongs.
With a slight sense of foreboding, she rose and asked, “What’s happening?”
Hutao hurriedly came in, putting on clothes, anxiously saying, “Miss, it seems the Realm of Desire is on fire, a big fire!”
Her heart tightened as Yu Lingxi said, “Let’s go see.”
She put on her cloak and got out of bed. Walking to the corridor to look, she saw black ashes dancing in the sky, and half the sky in the direction of Shengping Street was red.
It was identical to the scene from her previous life, except this time, she was still safely in the once-glorious General’s mansion rather than in the cold back courtyard of her uncle’s residence.
She had changed a small link in fate but ultimately couldn’t prevent the calamity that was meant to befall the capital.
“Two big fires in a year, it’s terrifying,” Hutao sighed and advised, “It’s cold outside, Miss. You’d better not watch and go back to rest.”
Burnt black ashes were carried by the wind in mid-air, covering half the city—the remnants of thousands of luxurious splendors destroyed.