“…Get up.”
His voice was neither cold nor warm.
“I’m only warning you this once. If anything like today happens again, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”
His voice was quiet, yet carried enough weight to be intimidating. Li Yi knew he meant it and dared not act out again.
He remained prostrate on the ground, kowtowing carefully. “Yes, Your Highness. I humbly heed your instruction—this servant understands.”
After speaking, seeing Xiao Fusu said nothing more, he rose silently to his feet.
Li Yi was the quietest among their group, and also the most observant and thoughtful. Sometimes even Xiao Fusu could not fathom his true thoughts. So no matter how cautious Li Yi was, or how flawless his conduct seemed, Xiao Fusu could never fully trust him—especially after what had happened today.
Still, appearances had to be maintained. It was not for Li Yi’s sake, but to preserve his own dignity.
He had no desire to stir up more trouble or let others learn the details of what had transpired.
His gaze involuntarily drifted to her, still on the ground—like a sharp blade, cold and piercing.
His grim expression sent a shiver down her spine, and fear seized her heart.
She instinctively raised a hand to cover her mouth, shaking her head as her large tear-filled eyes looked at him timidly yet earnestly. With her other hand, she gestured across her neck in a slitting motion, afraid he might not understand her willingness to be sensible.
“Pfft—”
Watching her cower in fear of him, Xiao Fusu couldn’t help but chuckle, his mood lifting considerably.
The tense atmosphere between them dissipated at once, chased away by her somewhat childish display.
He had thought her foolish, but it seemed she was not as dull as he’d imagined.
Look—she could understand his meaning perfectly, knowing that loose lips would earn her a slit throat.
She was pledging her loyalty to him.
In truth, he had never intended to kill her; he had only wanted to use her to flush out bigger fish. And sure enough, today’s hunt had been full of unexpected turns, leaving him with mixed feelings.
But it appeared there was truly no one pulling her strings—if she was as innocent as she had seemed today.
When Li Yi had tried to kill her, her panic and terror had been genuine. A woman so afraid of death and clinging to her life would not risk it all for a pretense to deceive him.
Conversely, if even someone like her was a spy sent to approach him deliberately, then things would be truly terrifying.
He would have no one left around him who was truly loyal and sincere.
Lost in these heavy thoughts, he soon heard the sound of hooves approaching from afar. The others had ridden over, scattered at first but now converging here after realizing he and Li Yi had vanished, along with the woman who had run off into the woods. They had feared something was wrong.
“Whoa—”
Xue Shao, skilled in horsemanship and archery, was the first to gallop over. He pulled hard on the reins to stop his horse, and once it had calmed, he hastily dismounted.
“Your Highness! Li Yi! What are you two doing here? Once we entered the woods, the terrain got complicated and trees blocked our view—we suddenly lost track of you both, and that woman running about like a headless chicken. We thought something terrible had happened, so we rushed to find you!”
Xue Shao strode over to them, his face etched with worry.
Glancing aside at the woman on the ground—her eyes red from crying, her face covered in blood—he looked even more shocked. “This!”
“She tripped over a stone by accident. An arrow aimed at the target grazed her face—it’s just a scratch, not fatal. No need to make such a fuss.”
Xiao Fusu shot him a casual look, as if truly annoyed by his overreaction.
“Oh… I see!”
Xue Shao did not dwell on it further. Seeing that everyone was unharmed, he finally relaxed completely.
Soon, the others arrived one by one from nearby.
Once everyone had gathered, Xiao Fusu made up a few excuses like the one he’d given Xue Shao, and the turmoil of the day’s hunt was finally put to rest.
Xiao Fusu had lost all interest in further amusement. The group dispersed to return to their respective homes, while he quietly took Lin Lin back to the Eastern Palace.
By the time they entered the palace hall, the sky outside had grown dark. As usual, the palace servants had already lit the lamps one by one.
When they saw the Crown Prince return with an unfamiliar, injured girl, their faces showed a brief flicker of surprise before quickly composing themselves. They offered their greetings and bows as required, then returned to their duties.
After the bed was made, curtains drawn, and he had been helped to change and wash up, Xiao Fusu waved his hand to dismiss them.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The servants bowed and withdrew, carefully closing the hall doors behind them.
Once they were gone, Lin Lin couldn’t help but marvel—truly, the servants of the Eastern Palace were remarkable. Their calm demeanor and proper conduct showed they had seen countless grand occasions and could remain unflustered in any situation.
Still lost in her thoughts, she suddenly found herself shrouded in shadow—he had come over!
Xiao Fusu had just bathed, and his body carried a faint, clean scent of damp mist. Though he wore only plain white underclothes, Lin Lin’s face flushed bright red at once.
She felt thoroughly embarrassed. Earlier, when he had bathed in the wooden tub behind her, he hadn’t even asked for a screen to be set up for privacy—he had simply stripped down and stepped into the water without a word. It was enough to make her heart race and her face burn with shame.
Thankfully, she had reacted quickly and not been distracted by his looks. Before long, she had covered her eyes and turned around to wait for him to finish.
She had watched the moon climb up through the treetops outside the window, and only after a long while had he finally finished bathing, been helped to dry off, and dressed.
Of course, it might also have felt slow because she had nothing to do but stare at the moon, growing bored with the task.
In any case, she had not taken advantage of being close to him to peek deliberately. Apart from a few accidental glances at the start, she had not looked again at his smooth, pale, well-muscled form.
Her heart was already fluttering wildly with random thoughts when his tall figure spoke before her. “Aren’t you going to wash up? I dislike having dirty people around me.”
As he spoke, he lifted her chin gently with his fingers. But when his eyes fell on the wound on her face, his brows furrowed slightly.
As if entranced, he reached out to touch the cut on her cheek. The round, fair face before him immediately contorted in pain, her teeth gritted against the ache.
Was it really that painful? It was just a minor injury, and he had barely touched it—she was truly delicate.
Though he grumbled inwardly, the corners of his lips curved upward as he looked at her, his smile mischievous and charming.
Yet for all its allure, his gaze held no hint of impropriety—only a carefree, unrestrained charm.
It should have been a smile that made her feel disgusted or afraid, but somehow, at this moment, Lin Lin found it not at all unpleasant. Instead, it held a strange, captivating beauty.
Perhaps women are always drawn to men whose eyes are cold and detached, yet carry a hint of ambiguous tenderness.
Young and inexperienced in the ways of the world, she could not yet fully grasp the subtle complexities and undercurrents of attraction between men and women.
His distinct masculine presence made her blush and lower her eyes, her heart fluttering with nervousness.
“Come with me.”
Taking her hand, he spoke in a calm voice as they walked together to the wall and stopped before a painting.
It was a beautiful portrait of a palace lady. After a thoughtful glance at the figure in the painting, he reached out and pressed gently on one of the patterns.
A hidden passageway appeared before them, and Lin Lin gasped in shock.
She had no idea such a place existed within the Eastern Palace! Why couldn’t she remember any mention of this in the original novel?
“Let’s go.”
Before she could think further, he stepped past her and entered first.
After a moment’s hesitation, Lin Lin decided to follow in his footsteps.
The passage was somewhat dim, but lamps lined both sides to light the way forward. Every ten feet or so, they glowed like stars. The lamps burned with what seemed to be a magical oil, releasing a faint, unique fragrance that soothed the senses.
Noticing her gaze lingering on the lamp stands with obvious interest, he explained in a quiet voice, “Those are mermaid lamps—legend has it they were rare treasures obtained by the First Emperor during his eastern inspection tour.”
“Mermaids?”
She turned to look at him.
“Yes. They’re said to be strange creatures from the East Sea—with human faces and fish tails, skilled at singing, weaving fine silk, and their tears turn to pearls when they cry. The dragon silk they weave is impervious to water and fire, and when their oil is burned, the flame never goes out for a thousand years.”
As he walked, he continued slowly, “After the First Emperor’s death, these mermaid candles were buried with him in his grand underground palace—where mercury rivers flowed and pearls dotted the ceiling like stars.”
Hmph… so this was just the legend of Qin Shi Huang, the First Emperor of Qin, that everyone knew about in the real world. It seemed the story existed in this book too.
Familiar with the well-known tale, she felt no surprise and asked, “Then how did the First Emperor’s mermaid candles end up in a hidden passage of the Eastern Palace?”
Rather than the legend itself, she was more curious about how these candles had come to be here, and how he had obtained such precious treasures.
It seemed a waste that such wonderful things could not be displayed openly for all to admire their brilliance and magic, instead being confined to illuminate this secret, unseen passage.
Of course, she only thought this to herself—she would never dare say it to his face.
“I am the Crown Prince. There is no shortage of people eager to curry favor with me by offering gifts. No matter how great the First Emperor was, he was only human—long dead and gone, how can he compare to the fame and fortune of the present?”
When a person dies, everything is lost. The so-called “great legacy” and treasure-filled palace are nothing more than comforts for a lonely heart.
Even if people know the stories by heart, few truly care or remember them.
He supposed the First Emperor had understood this deep down, even if he had refused to admit it.
Otherwise, why would he have spent his entire life searching for the elixir of immortality?
In the end, it had all been nothing but a dream.
The world turns, and times change.
Mountains become seas and seas become mountains—tragic, yet worthy of reflection.
Lin Lin glanced at him, then pouted slightly, clearly disagreeing with his words.
She did not share his view, but he only smiled in response.
They continued forward, and soon the opulent splendor of their destination came into view, growing closer with each step.
It was a hot spring pool surrounded by swirling mist—warm, hazy, and inviting.
“You’re lucky today. This Crown Prince is in a good mood, so I’ll let you enjoy this hot spring palace, which belongs solely to me.”
Looking at her, he smiled gently—a rare display of good humor that felt as warm and refreshing as a spring breeze, leaving her feeling deeply flattered and overwhelmed.
Her head felt light and dizzy, and she could barely tell if she was in a dream or reality.