The guards helped Ning Yin through the side door and found a clean, secluded place in the outer quarters for him to lie down.
“Near the year-end, if someone were to freeze to death in front of our gates, it would certainly be inauspicious,” Yu Lingxi instructed the night guards outside the door. “Father and brother are busy with state affairs, and Mother is still ill. I’ll take responsibility for this small matter; there’s no need to disturb them.”
The guards promptly clasped their hands and responded, “Yes.”
Yu Lingxi surveyed the room’s furnishings.
There was only a table, a chair, and a bed with an old mattress. A slightly damaged screen stood beside the bed. Though simple and small, the room was clean and tidy—more than adequate for sheltering from the wind and recovering from injuries, but not particularly warm.
The young man lay on the hard bed, his face still deathly pale, with only his eyes flashing with a hint of stubborn brightness.
The small stray cat he had rescued huddled helplessly in the corner, whimpering softly.
Yu Lingxi crouched down, her slender white hand gently stroking the cat’s messy, snow-dampened fur and scratching under its chin. The cat quickly stopped whimpering and even greedily nuzzled her palm.
“Bring two quilts, make a nest for the cat.” Yu Lingxi’s lips formed a faint smile that she quickly suppressed, and then she glanced at Ning Yin lying stiffly on the bed. “Don’t let him freeze to death.”
The servant naturally understood her meaning and hurriedly went to make arrangements.
In the dim oil lamp light, Ning Yin’s weak gaze remained fixed on Yu Lingxi.
His lips moved as if he wanted to say something.
But Yu Lingxi stood up, interrupting him. The rabbit fur scarf made her face look exquisite and charming as she calmly said, “I cannot keep you here. After the snow stops, find somewhere else to go. In any case, don’t linger here.”
Yu Lingxi said nothing more and turned to leave the outer quarters.
Behind her, more than ten servants followed with lanterns, carving out a dazzling river of light in the snow and wind.
Ning Yin watched that graceful, noble figure gradually recede, dim, and finally leave nothing but silent darkness.
His eyes, as if stained by the night, were unfathomably deep.
Even though he was mentally prepared, when he had opened his eyes under the eaves earlier and seen her face without the veil, he couldn’t hide his amazement.
He had seen many beauties in the Realm of Desire, but those were like birds in cages, their thick makeup unable to conceal the numb worldliness about them. None were as naturally clean and beautiful as she was—wearing no makeup yet outshining thousands of lights.
But she didn’t like him; Ning Yin could feel it.
He still didn’t understand the source of her contradictions. Every time she looked at him with those complex eyes, it was as if she was seeing someone else’s shadow through him.
Wanting to stay by her side long-term would likely be harder than imagined.
Just as he was contemplating his next steps, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door.
Ning Yin grew alert but remained motionless with closed eyes. It was a servant carrying an old cotton quilt, cursing and swearing about the freezing weather.
The servant tossed the quilt onto the bed, tugged it carelessly a couple of times, then added a pot of cold tea and two steamed buns before rubbing his hands and leaving.
Whether out of carelessness or unwillingness to serve a “beggar,” he forgot to close the door properly.
The half-closed wooden door banged in the north wind, and Ning Yin’s gaze gradually turned cold as he tapped his fingers irregularly on the edge of the bed.
The kitten in the corner, likely starving, boldly climbed onto the table and devoured a steamed bun.
Ning Yin’s lips curved into a pale smile as he reached out to grasp the small creature by the scruff of its neck.
The cat seemed to see some terrifying beast, its pupils contracting into a line, fur standing on end as it struggled with a meow.
“Move again and I’ll crush your neck,” the young man’s hoarse voice came from the darkness.
The little thing gave a meow and trembled into stillness.
Ning Yin tossed it into the old quilt and paid it no more attention, turning over and closing his eyes, allowing the half-open door to let in the cold wind that made his skin ache.
The oil lamp was blown out, and deathly silent darkness engulfed everything.
…
Upon waking, the snow had cleared to reveal early sunshine.
Yu Lingxi sat yawning at her dressing table, propping her chin and looking at the faint blue circles under her eyes in the mirror, asking languidly, “How is that person?”
Hutao, holding a comb, asked puzzled, “Which person?”
Yu Lingxi frowned, “The one we brought back last night.”
“Oh, you mean that injured beggar?” Hutao thought for a moment and answered truthfully, “When I got up this morning, there was no movement from the outer quarters. He must still be asleep.”
Could he be planning to stay at the residence indefinitely? The future Regent Prince, actually doing something so presumptuous.
In any case, she absolutely could not be soft-hearted again this time.
Yu Lingxi, hiding her concerns, selected a pair of jade pearl flowers from the jewelry box held by her maid, thinking that at the latest, when the snow melted, she would have to send him away.
No matter how overwhelming his power might become in the future, as long as he didn’t bother her again, it would be fine.
Having made up her mind, Yu Lingxi went to Lady Yu’s room to serve her medicine.
The Yu father and son didn’t return until noon, both looking exhausted.
Especially Yu Huanchen, who was covered in black soot with bloodshot eyes, clearly having worked through the night without sleep.
Yu Lingxi was startled by her brother’s filthy appearance and quickly asked, “Brother, you worked all night?”
Yu Huanchen gulped down several cups of water before wiping his mouth and exhaling heavily, “Yongning Street burned all night. Several mansions were destroyed. More than sixty people in the Prince of Xichuan’s mansion—none survived.”
Prince of Xichuan?