After this sigh, Yinzhen gazed into the distance, lost in thought, and did not notice the fingers of the person under the blanket twitch. The carriage remained calm from then on.
Xiao Quanzi drove the carriage at breakneck speed. By the time they reached the small courtyard, a physician had already been summoned. Doctor Liu was the most renowned physician in the area, and ordinarily could not be persuaded to come; it had taken Su Peisheng's personal visit to bring him over.
While Doctor Liu took Song Xilou's pulse, Yinzhen called Xiao Quanzi aside into a side room.
Xiao Quanzi had long known this moment would come. Trembling, he knelt down: "Master, this servant knows his mistake." Failing to look after the young lady and allowing her to fall into the water was entirely this servant's fault.
Yinzhen had been radiating cold fury since his return, his dark, grim face so forbidding that even Su Peisheng dared not approach. After diving in to rescue Song Xilou, his clothes had remained soaked, clinging uncomfortably to his skin.
Holding a cup of hot tea helped somewhat. He looked down at the kneeling figure, lowered his brows, and lifted the teacup lid before speaking after a long pause: "Tell me what happened today."
Xiao Quanzi dared not conceal anything, recounting every detail he could remember. When he mentioned boarding the boat, Yinzhen's hand paused, and he asked: "It was your idea to board?"
"Yes. This servant saw too many people and feared some careless fellow might bump into Miss Song, so this servant suggested boarding the boat."
Yinzhen let out an "Oh?" and shifted his sitting position to continue listening, but the cold aura around him had already eased considerably.
When he heard that the suggestion to return had also been Xiao Quanzi's, he no longer harbored the slightest suspicion toward Song Xilou.
He only cursed Xiao Quanzi inwardly as a fool—what terrible suggestions he had made.
The person had nearly not been saved, had he not happened to be there.
Just thinking about that scene made Yinzhen want to skin Xiao Quanzi alive. He had brought her back from Jiangnan with great effort, only to entrust her to these idiots—so many people, yet not one could take proper care of a single person.
"Go to the prince's mansion yourself and accept your punishment. If she is harmed again next time, you need not serve in my presence anymore." Having clarified the matter, Yinzhen rose and walked out.
He still needed to check on the delicate little thing—she had been in the water for so long. The more he thought about it, the more his heart ached.
Doctor Liu was writing a prescription when he saw Yinzhen and moved to bow, but Yinzhen stopped him in advance: "No need for formalities. Tell me how she is."
"This young lady's constitution is naturally frail, and having spent so long in the water, she has developed a slight fever." He stroked his beard a few times, handed the completed prescription to Su Peisheng standing nearby, and continued:
"After taking these two doses of medicine, the fever should subside. Afterwards, she must rest well in bed and absolutely must not catch a chill again."
"If any other condition arises, be sure to have me come examine her."
"Very well," Yinzhen nodded, glancing toward Su Peisheng: "See Doctor Liu out."
Only after the man's figure had disappeared did he step toward Song Xilou's chamber. The moment his foot crossed the threshold, he caught a whiff of lotus fragrance—and upon closer sniff, it carried the sweet scent of lotus seeds.
Yinzhen raised an eyebrow. He had smelled this fragrance on Song Xilou more than once; it was her natural scent, wonderfully pleasant.
Song Xilou lay in bed, covered with a cotton quilt, only her pale little face visible. Even in sleep, her brows were furrowed, looking deeply uneasy.
He stepped forward and brushed aside the hair that had fallen across her forehead. The sleeping girl's brows twitched slightly, then her lips parted a little. Her voice was too soft for Yinzhen to make out the words, so he bent down, bringing his ear close to her lips.
"Xilou, what did you say?"
But this time she did not speak again. Thinking she might be cold, Yinzhen reached out and tucked the quilt around her.
"I miss you…" The sleeping girl turned over, her hand grasping blindly until it touched his, and only then did she seem to find peace.
Yinzhen stood frozen for a long moment. When he came to his senses, he found her hand gripping his. He tugged gently but could not pull free—and if he used force, she would surely wake.
"Fine, sleep as you like."
Those words "I miss you" still echoed in Yinzhen's mind. He began to reflect on whether avoiding her had been wrong. He had seen for himself in the water just now—the girl had grown up, old enough to marry.
At this thought, his fingers moved slightly, and when he looked at her, his eyes grew clear. If she had no family background, she could only be a concubine in the rear courtyard.
Just then, Dongya arrived carrying the medicine. The usually boisterous and careless girl now handled the bowl with the utmost care.
She was visibly startled to see Yinzhen there, then lowered her voice to remind him: "Young master, I need to feed the young lady her medicine." Turning to look at the sleeping girl, her pale face was especially pitiful.
Yinzhen said nothing, only slightly raised his hand to indicate he was not leaving. Looking at the dark, murky medicine in her hands, he said: "Give it to me. I'll feed her."
"Then—please be careful, young master."
Yet the bitter medicinal brew in his hands simply would not go down. The girl was likely terribly afraid of bitterness, keeping her mouth firmly shut and refusing to drink.
Yinzhen was at a loss—he had never fed medicine to anyone before. At home, when the children were mischievous, one glare from him was enough to make them obediently drink it. But now, he was truly helpless.
Steeling himself, he picked up the bowl and downed the medicine in one gulp, then leaned down and transferred it directly into Song Xilou's mouth.
"There, not a drop wasted." Lifting his head, he wiped the stray medicine from the corner of his mouth, his expression utterly composed.
Beside him, Dongya dropped her tray with a loud clatter. "You… you… you—"
Yinzhen swept a cold glance over her. "You should know which words are fit to be spoken and which are not."
Seeing that face as cold as ice, radiating chill, Dongya wisely shut her mouth—her master's gaze was simply too terrifying.
At some point, Song Xilou had released his sleeve. It was getting late, and Yinzhen needed to return to his residence. Before stepping over the threshold, he left one final remark: "Take good care of your young lady."
Even with Song Xilou's sturdy constitution, she still spent half a month confined to bed.
During this illness, she discovered that the water flowing from the petals in her palm had the effect of strengthening the body. However, she didn't dare drink too much—she only set aside a little each time before watering the flowers.
Half a month later, the flower seedlings that had just been sprouting had begun to form buds. Yinzhen had visited twice during this period, quite curious about the abnormal growth rate.
Song Xilou only told him: "I don't know what's going on either. It's been like this since I was young, but my family didn't like me back then, so I never told anyone."
Her eyes seemed to hold shattered starlight, and when she looked at him, it was as if she might draw him in.
Yinzhen found her utterly endearing. He rubbed her forehead as a reward.
Then he recalled her background and cautiously asked, "Would you like to find your family?" But he saw the light in her eyes, which had just been so bright, immediately dim.
"What's wrong?"
"That day, Dongya heard that the person who fell into the water with me had the surname Niohuru." Whenever she was nervous, her hands would unconsciously twist together. Gathering her courage, she looked up. "Was… was that girl about the same age as me?"
Yinzhen tilted his head in recollection. Girls in their teens all looked similar; the age seemed about right. It should be her.
"Don't worry. I'll go check in a while." Stroking her head, Yinzhen thought to himself that if it were true, it would save a great deal of trouble. After all, the draft selection was coming up soon—petitioning his imperial father for a person would be perfectly proper.
Song Xilou wrapped her arms around his, leaning into his embrace. "I trust you." Her words were sweet, but her gaze was startlingly clear.
Yinzhen gently stroked her hair, his mind elsewhere.
This girl was too restless. Keeping her outside would never let him rest easy. He needed to get her into his household, right under his watchful eye.
He turned to look outside: these flowers should be blooming soon.
Niohuru Lingzhu was a man of the Bordered Yellow Banner of Manchuria, but merely a minor fourth-rank ceremonial official.
Such a sesame-sized official in the capital never imagined that an imperial prince would one day grace his humble home. His hands began to tremble: "A Beile gracing my humble abode—this official has failed to welcome you properly."
Yinzhen gave him a look that was half-smile, half-something else, then uttered a single: "Oh?"
Niohuru Lingzhu had no idea what he was thinking. Toward this cold-faced devil, he normally wouldn't even dare to look directly—how could he have known that one day this man would come to his residence?
"I… I wonder what business brings the Beile here." His mung-bean-sized eyes concealed a heart full of guilt, darting about without daring to meet the gaze of the man seated above.
Yinzhen deliberately said nothing, stealing a glance while sipping his tea. The man's legs were already shaking uncontrollably. He silently cursed the old coward.
Then he set down his teacup with a sharp thud. At the sound, Niohuru Lingzhu immediately dropped to his knees.
Yinzhen found it amusing. Leaning back, he asked, "What are you doing?"
"Your servant knows not what crime he has committed. I beg the Beile to enlighten me."
"Very well. Then I ask you—in the thirty-first year of Kangxi, did you not have a daughter?" This was information his spies had uncovered, and it had taken considerable effort.
"Afterward, you exchanged the child with a merchant. Is this true?" Having said this, he slammed his hand hard on the table, nearly scaring Niohuru Lingzhu half to death.
"To accuse without cause is to find guilt where none exists." The kneeling man refused to admit it, trembling as though he had been wronged.
"Lingzhu, that Master Song has already confessed. Do you want me to take you to the authorities?" Yinzhen's words successfully silenced him. His kneeling body began to shake, and he could not utter a single word of defense.
"I will come find you again. By then, you should think about what you want to say."
Leaving those words behind, Yinzhen had no desire to stay a moment longer.
Only after he left did Niohuru Lingzhu, still kneeling, raise his head. He shouted in a panic: "Someone! Help me up—take me to the master."
The Niohuru family kept a great master who knew everything about heaven above and earth below.
In simpler terms, whatever this man said was always correct—as if he had opened his heavenly eye, and not a single thing he predicted ever missed the mark.
Except this time…
"Master, calculate this for me—what on earth is going on?" Niohuru Lingzhu stood nearby, his eyes red with anxiety, pacing in circles on the spot. He was terrified. That was an imperial prince—crushing him would be as easy as crushing an ant.
The so-called master sitting across from him was an old man with an immortal, ethereal bearing, rapidly spinning his prayer beads between his fingers while muttering unintelligibly under his breath.
Niohuru Lingzhu on the side wanted to step forward and interrupt, his hand raised several times, but each time he lost his nerve and lowered it again. He turned his head and shouted anxiously, "What do I do? What do I do?"
"Don't be anxious. I can see that the fate has not changed—the Imperial Noble Consort will still be that one." The master chanted for a long while before opening his eyes, smiling to comfort Lingzhu.
"The Niohuru family will produce an Imperial Noble Consort, and afterwards—"
"There will also come a Son of Heaven." The master's words seemed to carry a magical power, instantly soothing Niohuru Lingzhu's heart.
Upon hearing this, he was so excited his voice went hoarse. His bean-sized eyes gleamed with sharp light as he pointed upward and said, "Still that noble lady?"
The master knew who he meant—that girl Lianxin of the Song family, who had been brought over since childhood and whose every need in clothing, food, shelter, and care was attended to even better than if she were their own flesh and blood.
"What I saw is indeed Miss Lianxin, wearing robes of golden yellow."
Golden yellow robes—that was a rank reserved only for the Imperial Noble Consort. Niohuru Lingzhu's hands began trembling with excitement, unable to calm for a long time.
"Golden yellow? Court robes?" But standing outside the door was a delicate, charming young girl, leaning against the door panel as she murmured. She lowered her head and thought for a moment, then cast a deep glance at the room before her.
"So, I will become the Imperial Noble Consort in the future."
After saying this, she began to laugh. "So, I, Niohuru Lianxin, will one day become the Imperial Noble Consort." As she laughed, a venomous cruelty crept into her eyes. Those who have bullied me—I will make you pay back twofold in the days to come.