Lin Yao instinctively lowered his head, listening as the footsteps drew near. A pair of ornate riding boots halted before them, though the speaker addressed Elina first: “Why has Princess Elina wandered over here?”
“The flowers are in full bloom, so I came to admire them,” Elina replied, her voice soft and pleasant, though entirely devoid of warmth.
“The flowers grown here are rather ordinary. If there is a particular blossom you wish to see, tell me, and I shall seek out the finest for you,” Kathy’s tone remained as smooth and attentive as ever, laced with eager courting.
Even though he had been reprimanded by the King for pursuing Elina, he had by no means kept his distance.
“Thank you, Your Highness, but I shall take my leave now,” Elina offered a perfunctory smile, turned with her maidservants, and departed.
Only after her figure had completely vanished did Kathy deign to spare Lin Yao a glance. His tone retained its gentle cadences, yet carried a cold mockery: “Elder Brother truly treats you like a prized treasure. Still, you had better hold him tightly in the palm of your hand and keep him from harboring any notions toward the Princess. Do you understand, Yao?”
“Yes,” Lin Yao responded with a dutifully lowered head.
Having promised Cody he would not move against the youth, Kathy naturally had no desire to invite trouble at this juncture. He merely glanced at the top of Lin Yao’s head, let out a soft huff through his nose, and turned to walk away.
Lin Yao lifted his head and watched his receding back, letting out a faint smile.
“What are you smiling at?” Cody’s voice sounded from above.
Lin Yao shook his head. “Nothing. What is that in your hand?”
“A painting bestowed by Royal Father,” Cody said, seemingly unconcerned by his answer, as he reached out to pull Lin Yao by the waist. “Let us return.”
“Mmh, very well,” Lin Yao looked at him, his gaze brimming with complete, gentle attachment.
The painting was rendered on parchment—coarse on the surface and suited only for ordinary writing, unlike the fine vellum typically reserved for formal rolls.
No matter how displeased the King was with his son, he would never bestow a portrait crafted on such crude material.
In his youth, Lin Yao’s face had once been drawn on precisely this kind of paper for a wanted bulletin.
Having spent time alongside Cody, Lin Yao knew the prince possessed a remarkable memory, capable of processing information at a single glance and retaining it indefinitely. More than eight years had elapsed; for an ordinary person, recalling someone’s exact features from a fleeting look in the distant past was virtually impossible. But for Cody, it was entirely within the realm of possibility.
He might have dazzled the prince using the initial shock of his beauty, but expecting Cody to harbor zero suspicion was effectively out of the question.
“What is depicted in this painting?” Lin Yao asked with apparent curiosity. “May I have a look?”
“Supposedly a portrait of a beauty,” Cody remarked, though he showed no intention of unrolling it. “I do not look at other beauties, and you are not permitted to look either.”
Lin Yao let out a light laugh. “Very well then, neither of us shall look.”
In the dead of night, the royal palace lay steeped in silence, as though all creation had fallen asleep. A dark figure slipped quietly toward the writing desk, picking up the rolled painting that rested there. Yet the moment he unrolled the scroll, the pitch-black room suddenly flared into bright light.
Blades gleamed beneath the torchlight. Dressed in a loose nightgown, Cody stepped forward as the guards parted before him. His gaze remained fixed on the black-clad figure. Just as he extended his hand to pull down the intruder’s mask, a lazy yawn sounded from behind him.
The night air was as cool as clear water, yet the voice sounded as soft as dew upon petals: “Your Highness, what has happened? Why is it so noisy?”
Cody turned to look at the figure standing behind the guards. Dressed in a light nightgown, his long dark hair looked even more striking than the night itself, his eyes barely open from sheer sleepiness.
Knit-browed, Cody pulled off the intruder’s face covering, revealing an unfamiliar countenance. Waving a hand dismissively, he signaled the guards to drag the thief away, then walked up to Lin Yao. “Why are you up?”
“I heard a commotion, so I came to check,” Lin Yao leaned into his chest, following the gentle pull of Cody’s arm. “Was that person trying to steal something?”
He was asking a question, yet his tone sounded thoroughly drowsy, as though he might drift back to sleep the very next second.
Cody scooped him up by the waist, a dark intensity flickering across his eyes as he looked down at him. “Yes, he came to steal something. Come, back to sleep.”
Lin Yao rested his hand on Cody’s shoulder, giving a subtle nod.
No matter how severely the thief was whipped or tortured, he stubbornly insisted that he had come solely to steal a treasure map.
“A treasure map? Where did you hear such a rumor?” Cody demanded coldly, looking down at the man who had been beaten into a bloody mess.
The thief’s voice had dwindled to a faint murmur: “We have private channels of information. Whenever a noble household holds a valuable prize, word spreads among us.”
“And where did this news originate?” Cody tightened his grip on his whip, pressing for an answer.
“I cannot say.” With those final words, the thief’s head slumped forward. A servant stepped forward to check his pulse before shaking his head at Cody. “Your Highness, he is dead.”
Dead men told no tales; the lead was severed. Cody rubbed his fingers together thoughtfully. Stepping out of the dungeon cell, he paused, turned back, and instructed: “Search his belongings. Report any discovery immediately.”
“Understood!”
Inside Lin Yao’s mind, the system paced back and forth in frantic anxiety: ［Host, are you truly not worried at all? If that painting really depicts your true likeness, we are finished! If the mission fails, Star Credits will be deducted!］
Hearing the words Star Credits, Lin Yao’s fingers instinctively tightened. Taking a slow breath, he replied: ［What era do you think we are currently in?］
The system scratched its head: ［Compared to the origin world, this is practically ancient times. What does the era have to do with it?］
Lin Yao looked down, smoothing out the piece of parchment in his hands. The paper was far from clean, even flaking in places. He let out a light laugh, picking off a tiny speck of dried fiber: ［Ancient paper does not possess the eternal preservation qualities of the origin world. For paper of this quality, no matter how sharp the original drawing was, eight years is more than enough time for time to erode every last trace of ink.］
Hence, the presence of that painting was merely a test directed at him. Why would he ever take the bait?
The system reached a sudden realization: ［So when you spread the rumor that it was a treasure map, you deliberately baited someone to come steal it, right?］
Lin Yao nodded: ［At least you are not entirely beyond saving.］
The channel used to leak the information had been casual—a mere scrap of paper dropped on the floor. Anyone who acquired such news would naturally avoid broadcasting it, choosing instead to steal the painting via underground channels. And thieves caught in the act rarely met a pleasant end.
With the wedding date drawing near, layers of intricate, elaborate bridal robes were fitted onto his frame. Piled high with fine cloud-silk and studded with gleaming gemstones, these brilliant colors served only to complement his features rather than overpower them in the slightest.
Cody wore a formal attire reminiscent of riding garments, accented by a gemstone-encrusted breastplate, leather boots accentuating his long legs, and a headband securing his golden hair across his forehead, giving him a strikingly handsome appearance.
“Yao will surely be the most breathtaking bride,” Cody wrapped an arm around his waist, gazing at their reflection in the mirror while whispering intimately against his ear. “It is a pity the wedding attire here is light-colored. I have heard that bridal robes in the East are red. If you wore that color, you would look extraordinary.”
Lin Yao offered a faint smile. The faint, smoky crimson trace at the outer corner of his eye flickered subtly, causing the arm wrapped around his waist to tighten its hold.
Lin Yao’s bridal outfit was a structured gown laden with various ornamental clasps—tedious to put on, and equally tedious to remove.
To avoid soiling the attire inside, Cody waited outside holding a riding crop, occasionally tapping the fine leather against the ground to soothe his restless mood.
“Prince Cody,” Elina’s voice sounded nearby. She remained exquisite, akin to a lone narcissus admiring its own reflection by a quiet pool, endlessly captivating.
Regrettably, though a narcissus was lovely, it paled in comparison to the soul-stirring allure of a Posuo Flower—and Cody already possessed the finest.
“What is it?” Cody did not even turn his head to look at her directly.
Within this royal palace, anything he wished to know would reach his ears—including the brief exchange between this woman and Yao near the flowerbeds earlier.
“Why does Your Highness insist on marrying a man?” Elina pressed a hand to her chest, her tone laced with sorrow. “He cannot bear you an heir, and he is reputedly hideously scarred. Why?”
“There is no ‘why,'” Cody brought his riding crop down against the ground near Elina’s feet, causing her to step back in fright with the support of her maidservant.
Cody sneered coldly: “You already have Royal Father and Kathy pursuing you, so do not waste any more time on me. Because doing so will only bring trouble to Yao and myself.”
“But do you not love that priest?” As the words left Elina’s mouth, her gaze met Cody’s, and a sudden chill ran down her spine.
At that moment, she almost believed she might be slain on the spot.
“Whomever I love is none of your concern. You are in the way, Princess,” Cody stated bluntly, disregarding her paled complexion. As Lin Yao emerged having changed his attire, Cody took his hand and walked away, casting not a single glance back at Elina.
“Princess.” The maidservant was equally shaken, speaking in a tentative whisper.
“I am unwilling to accept this.”
“Pardon?” The servant failed to catch her words clearly, asking softly.
Elina lifted her head, tears welling in her eyes as she softly murmured a single name: “Yao.”
The person Cody loved was named Yao, and this consort was also named Yao. Both possessed dark hair. Could there truly be two people so similar in this world?
“Come, accompany me to the Sanctuary to meet this Priest Yao,” Elina bit her lip. She harbored a suspicion that she felt compelled to verify.
The grand wedding was to be held within the royal palace, serving as a testament to the King’s high regard for Prince Cody.
Beds of fresh blossoms lined the avenues, and the streets were decked with lanterns and streamers to celebrate the First Prince taking his beloved consort. As for the matter of an heir, a consort was not the sole person capable of bearing children; the First Prince could possess a consort while simultaneously taking other women.
Prince Cody had set aside the fairest flower to choose the person he truly loved; between them lay genuine devotion.
“Princess, please do not be upset. They are merely spreading idle gossip,” the maidservant comforted her.
Elina gripped her skirt tightly, a stubborn glint flashing across her eyes: “I am not upset. Come, let us attend their wedding.”
She simply wanted Cody to understand that insulting her in such a manner was wrong—and that substituting one person for another to wed a priest was equally wrong.