Yu Lingxi fell ill, frightened sick by Ning Yin.
One couldn’t blame her for being delicate. Anyone who woke up in the morning to see two female assassins’ corpses hanging beneath crystal lamps in the hall would have their souls scared away.
Under the lamps, Ning Yin in his purple robe, incomparably handsome, had given the scene an exquisitely refined name: “Beauty Lamps.” He had invited Yu Lingxi with great interest to appreciate them together.
Yu Lingxi couldn’t catch her breath and fell ill immediately upon returning to her chambers.
She burned with fever all night and finally managed to return from the gates of hell.
But living beside Ning Yin was far more terrifying than the gates of hell.
Before her, many had sent beauties of all types to Ning Yin’s side—whether to curry favor or to assassinate him—but without exception, none had lived to see the sunrise of the second day.
Only Yu Lingxi was an exception.
Perhaps it was because she had been frail and sickly since childhood, appearing weak and harmless as though waiting for death; or perhaps because she was uncontentious, with flattering skills that pleased him…
In any case, Ning Yin hadn’t killed her yet.
But this was only “temporary.”
Yu Lingxi was perceptive enough to accommodate the madman’s temperament, obediently playing the role of a caged canary, not provoking him.
Unfortunately, Ning Yin quite enjoyed provoking her. Yu Lingxi’s heart, no matter how strong, couldn’t bear serving a madman day after day.
It was only because she had fallen ill from fright these past two days that she could have a moment’s respite.
Having just recovered from her serious illness, Yu Lingxi finally had some peaceful time, leaning against the noble consort’s couch and reading a book.
Though the weather had turned warm, she was still wrapped in thick fox fur. Her complexion was somewhat pale, yet it didn’t diminish her beauty at all.
The thin light by the window gilded her exquisite profile. Her skin was as white as snow, her dark hair like fine silk clinging to her delicate figure, making her appear even more fragile and vulnerable. Only the beast-headed ring on her finger revealed her noble identity as the youngest daughter of the Great General’s family.
The ring had been given to her by her gravely ill mother with tears, after her father and brothers had died in battle, imploring her to survive no matter what.
Yu Lingxi’s gaze fell on the ring, and she couldn’t help feeling a pang of sorrow.
If her family were still alive, she would have been cherished and adored like a star surrounded by the moon, rather than shrinking in the Regent Prince’s mansion as a caged bird, facing a madman day and night.
The only consolation was that when Ning Yin wasn’t in one of his fits, he wasn’t particularly harsh with her.
She was sensitive to cold, so the palace always supplied silver-thread charcoal; precious incense that even the imperial palace rarely had was burned all day in the Regent Prince’s mansion.
It was tolerable; she could make do.
Yu Lingxi turned a page of her book with little interest, then saw her maid enter with a bow.
Hutao presented a gold-embossed invitation and cautiously said, “Miss, the Zhao household sent an invitation this morning.”
The Zhao household Hutao mentioned was the residence of Zhao Hui, the current Deputy Minister of Revenue. And Zhao Hui was Yu Lingxi’s uncle by marriage.
If she remembered correctly, today was her uncle’s birthday, and the household would certainly hold a grand celebration.
Her uncle was a greedy man. When Yu Lingxi’s father and brothers died in battle and her mother passed away from illness, she had no choice but to take refuge in the Zhao family. She couldn’t believe that when she was “gifted” to Ning Yin, her uncle hadn’t played a role in pushing it forward.
This was a knot in her heart that she couldn’t untie.
Yu Lingxi was too lazy to exchange pleasantries and was about to throw away the invitation when she noticed the paper was different.
A thin secret note fell from the folded layer of the Zhao family invitation. Curious, she opened it, and the name signed at the bottom made her pupils contract.
If there was one person in this world, neither relative nor kin, who would risk his life to help her, it would be Xue Cen.
The Xue family’s second son, who had grown up with her like childhood sweetheart, the legitimate grandson of the Prime Minister’s family, of noble birth, with an unmatched elegant handwriting that no one could imitate. Each stroke was the most familiar sight to her.
Upon seeing the eight forceful characters that read: “Meet at Zhao mansion, I will save you,” Yu Lingxi’s first reaction was not joy but panic.
What was Brother Cen planning to do? Was he tired of living?!
She hurriedly threw the secret note into the charcoal brazier and poked the ashes to pieces, making sure no traces remained.
Setting down the copper hook for stirring the charcoal, she was still uneasy and asked the attendant outside: “Where is the Prince?”
The attendant replied, “The Prince has gone to the palace to handle important matters and will return late. If Madam has any concerns, this servant can relay them.”
“Important matters” meant nothing more than confiscating property and tormenting the masterminds behind the assassins.
Hearing that Ning Yin would not return to the mansion for some time, Yu Lingxi felt slightly relieved.
After pondering for a moment, she instructed her maid in a casual tone: “Hutao, bring out the pair of hundred-year snow ginseng we received last month. I’ll go to the Zhao mansion to offer birthday congratulations.”
…
The Zhao family’s birthday banquet had many visitors, providing the best cover.
Yu Lingxi arrived wearing a veiled hat to conceal her face. She deliberately avoided the guests and found a deserted corner in the garden to sit down.
She didn’t know what kind of tea the Zhao household served. It smelled fragrant when first sipped but left an extremely bitter aftertaste.
Yu Lingxi only took one sip before setting down the teacup.
Soon, footsteps approached from behind. As she turned around, Yu Lingxi was stunned.
After two years apart, Xue Cen seemed to have lost some weight, but he still maintained his elegant scholarly appearance, like sunlight after a storm.
“Second Sister, you have suffered,” he said.
Looking at Yu Lingxi’s pointed chin, his eyes quickly reddened: “Don’t worry, he won’t be able to abuse you much longer…”