Shen Yunting?
That scumbag, how dare he still have the face to look for her?
Song Jiuning sneered, about to tear the note in her hand to shreds, when a thought suddenly struck her.
“Xun Mo, make arrangements. I’ll be going out later.”
“Miss!”
Xun Mo hesitated, looking at the note in her hand. “You couldn’t still be… what about His Highness?”
Just earlier at the restaurant, wasn’t it—
“You silly girl, what are you thinking?”
Song Jiuning lightly tapped her forehead. “Your young lady, I’ve been blind once, and that’s enough.”
Song Jiuning finished her meal early and rummaged through her belongings to retrieve a set of silver needles, fiddling with them.
In her previous life, she had changed into silk skirts for Shen Yunting, forcing herself to suppress her nature, striving to become a virtuous and gentle woman. These things that had saved her countless times on the battlefield had not been touched for a long time.
The sky gradually darkened, nearing midnight.
Song Jiuning fastened the silver needles to her leg, hidden beneath her skirt. After tidying up, she quietly made her way to Feng He Garden as instructed by the note.
It was curfew time, and the streets were empty, so there was no fear of running into anyone.
Still, to avoid trouble, she had to steer clear of patrolling soldiers.
Feng He Garden was an elegant spot in the capital. It was just the beginning of summer, with lotus leaves filling the pond and hibiscus yet to bloom—a perfect place for scholars and poets to gather, and for passionate men and women to meet in secret.
Shen Yunting had long grown impatient. The elegant folding fan in his hand was flapped chaotically, making a rustling noise.
He occasionally kicked the bench in the pavilion, muttering curses under his breath, though it was unclear what he was grumbling about.
Meanwhile, at Gongning Wangfu.
Two light knocks sounded on the study window, and Pei Yu’s low voice came from outside.
“Master, the informant from the General’s Manor reports that Miss Song Jiu has gone to Feng He Garden late at night, seemingly to meet someone.”
Shen Wenjing narrowed his eyes. The brush tip, soaked in ink, trembled slightly, smudging a sheet of rice paper.
In Feng He Garden, Song Jiuning enjoyed the cool night breeze, in no hurry to step forward. Instead, she watched Shen Yunting’s agitation from the shadows, repeating to herself over and over.
See, this was the man she had risked her entire clan to protect.
Only when Shen Yunting’s anger began to show openly, and he was about to turn back to summon someone, did Song Jiuning leisurely emerge from the darkness.
“Tenth Prince, I apologize for the long wait. Jiuning is late.”
Song Jiuning smiled at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes were icy cold.
Hearing her voice, Shen Yunting spun around abruptly.
His gaze toward Song Jiuning was filled with undisguised irritation and disgust. “Why are you so slow? Could it be that after losing your purity, this sullied body of yours fears tainting this prince’s eyes?”
He made no effort to conceal the mockery in his words.
Given Song Jiuning’s infatuation with him, even if he called her a dog that came at his beck and call, she would at most sulk for a night and, by the next morning, still cling to him like a dog.
Song Jiuning’s gaze turned cold.
Shen Yunting truly took advantage of her devotion, trampling her underfoot in every way. Yet, in her previous life, she had failed to see this.
If she were still the Song Jiuning of her past life, she would have humbled herself to the dust because of his words.
No matter what he demanded, she would have done everything in her power to fulfill it.
“I’m sullied? Shen Yunting, what about my sister then? Is she pure and innocent?”
Song Jiuning suddenly mentioned Song Qingyao, causing Shen Yunting’s heart to skip a beat.
Could she have found out something?
Shen Yunting probed cautiously, “What do you mean by that? What does your sister have to do with me?”
Still pretending even at this point!
Truly refusing to yield until faced with dire consequences.
Song Jiuning stood on the steps outside the pavilion, watching him calmly. “Your Highness, you and my sister have kept me in the dark for so long.”
She did not weep or wail; the calmer she appeared, the more uneasy Shen Yunting felt.
How did Song Jiuning find out?
He felt annoyed, but for the sake of his plan, he had to suppress his temper. Closing his folding fan, he walked toward her.
Yet, as soon as he took two steps closer, Song Jiuning immediately retreated, her voice colder than the frigid night.
“Stop! Take another step forward, and don’t blame me for being impolite!”
“You—”
He had never seen her like this before. Shen Yunting’s heart raced, and he quickly softened his tone. “A Ning, my feelings for you are as clear as heaven and earth. What happened with your sister was merely a moment of folly, with no affection whatsoever! A Ning, it has always been you I intend to marry.”
Song Jiuning sneered inwardly.
All this talk of feelings as deep as the sea, yet every other word was “Your Highness.”
How blind had she been in her previous life to fail to see something so obvious?
“Is what the Tenth Prince says true?”
Song Jiuning’s heart was icy, yet her expression showed a hint of emotion. “But Jiuning now… now belongs to Prince Gongning.”
A flicker of mockery passed over Shen Yunting’s face.
His gaze toward Song Jiuning carried a barely noticeable disdain, though his smile grew even brighter.
“What I have always loved is you, A Ning. Everything else is never an obstacle. A Ning, rather than ‘Tenth Prince,’ I would much prefer to hear you call me Yunting.”
If it were the Song Jiuning of the past, she would have been moved to tears. Now, hearing this only filled her with disgust.
She lowered her head to hide her expression, parting her lips but unable to utter the name.
It was too repulsive; she couldn’t even bring herself to act. Enduring this conversation with him had already pushed her to her limit.
Song Jiuning had no choice but to change the subject. “Since you’ve come today, is there something you wish to instruct me?”
Shen Yunting paid no mind to her unusual behavior. Seeing her take the initiative so sensibly, he continued along her line of thought.
“These past few days, rumors have been spreading everywhere. I was worried you might be affected and wanted to see for myself to put my mind at ease.”
He then shifted the topic. “But since you brought it up, there is indeed one matter.”
As expected.
“The incident at Gongning Wangfu the other day—the mastermind behind it still hasn’t been found. To cover their tracks so thoroughly that nothing can be traced, who else could it be but Shen Wenjing?”
Shen Yunting angrily tapped his folding fan against his palm. “Shen Wenjing is cunning to the extreme. Catching him red-handed is as difficult as climbing to the heavens. In a few days, His Majesty will personally oversee the investigation. A Ning, when the time comes, step forward and accuse Shen Wenjing. That will leave him with no defense.”
Song Jiuning’s hand, resting at her side, brushed against the needle pouch on her leg. Several times, she nearly couldn’t resist giving him a jab.
Having her, the one whose reputation was tarnished, step forward to accuse someone was no different from placing her on a pyre before the entire world.
He hadn’t given a single thought to how she would navigate life in the Imperial City afterward.
“If it can help Yunting, Jiuning is willing.”
Song Jiuning lowered her head, her voice trembling slightly.
Shen Yunting only thought she was still moved, but only Song Jiuning knew she was afraid that if she saw that despicable man’s face again, she would be so enraged she couldn’t help but stab him to death.
Didn’t they want her help?
Then she would help them—thoroughly.
At the corner of the lakeside pavilion’s corridor, Shen Wenjing stood behind a pillar, his piercing phoenix eyes hidden in the shadows, flashing with a ruthless light.
He silently watched the two in the pavilion discussing how to deal with him, only stepping out from the shadows after they had left one after another.
His dark cyan brocade robe seemed to blend into the moonlight, soft yet lonely.
He tilted his head slightly, a cold and indifferent smile curling at the corner of his lips under the moonlight.
“May your heart be like mine, huh.”