Murder.
Jing Miaoyi’s hands trembled as she held the dagger.
In both her past life and this one, she had never killed anyone.
She would not kill.
She flung the dagger aside. “You madman, I will not kill anyone, never.”
She struggled, trying to get up.
But Ruan Xi restrained her, pressing his head against her neck. His scorching heat like molten lava seared her skin, while he inhaled her faint orchid fragrance.
Their worlds had never been the same.
No—
Ruan Xi suddenly opened his eyes and forcefully shoved the dagger into her hands. “It’s my fault. How could I forget? Your hands, Bodhisattva, have only ever saved lives, never taken them.”
A ghostly voice whispered in her ear, “Then let me teach the Bodhisattva how to kill.”
He pulled her hand.
“Spurt—”
The sound of the blade piercing flesh rang in her ears, warm blood spraying onto her face.
Jing Miaoyi quietly watched the person fall before her, trembling slightly, then lying still.
The blood splattered across her face dripped into her palms.
She—had killed.
Her hands were soaked in blood. She heard nothing, sitting slumped on the ground like a lifeless corpse.
Her eyes were vacant, devoid of any light.
She tried to wipe the blood off, but the more she wiped, the dirtier it became.
Ruan Xi’s voice, venomous as a snake, echoed in her ears: “Bodhisattva, how does it feel to have blood on your hands? Exciting, isn’t it? Killing is far more thrilling than saving, isn’t it?”
He stared at the blood-covered Jing Miaoyi, his gaze growing more obsessed.
Finally, the Bodhisattva was in his world.
Jing Miaoyi stood shakily, her eyes hollow, as if her soul had been lost.
She pushed open the door, looking at the room in disarray. Her gaze fell, and she finally collapsed to the ground, unable to support herself.
“Miss—”
Baozhu, having used the fallen hairpin to cut through her bonds, rushed in and found her unconscious.
Baozhu immediately wrapped Jing Miaoyi in her arms, seeing her covered in blood, tears she could no longer hold back.
Ruan Xi froze for a moment, then stepped forward, reaching out.
Baozhu, like a fluffed-up cat, bared her teeth at him. “Get away! You’re a madman. I swear, if anything happens to my lady, I will haunt you even as a ghost!”
Ruan Xi’s face darkened as he struck her neck with a palm.
Rebirth had brought resentment and sorrow, tangled thoughts that left her sleepless.
Now, with the shock of killing today, the principles she had upheld across two lifetimes shattered.
Her mind was overwhelmed, her anxieties and grief cascading like a violent flood, crushing her heart.
She could not breathe, and eventually collapsed in illness.
High fevers persisted for three or four days without abating, and she murmured in her sleep all night.
Renowned physicians from across the city were brought in by Ruan Xi.
If she did not recover, they would all face consequences alongside her.
Baozhu’s eyes nearly wept themselves blind as she repeatedly wiped her lady’s body.
The man, normally calm even with a dagger at his neck, now showed panic.
Jing Miaoyi’s high fever lasted several days, and Ruan Xi had not slept, even skipping morning court.
His dark under-eyes, unshaven jaw, and wrinkled clothes betrayed his exhaustion.
The feverish woman called out in a hoarse voice: “Father… Brother…”
Supporting his head with his hands, Ruan Xi noticed Baozhu kneeling beside him. “Who is the ‘brother’ my lady is calling?”
As far as he knew, Jing Miaoyi was the only daughter of Jing Ji—where could a brother come from?
Baozhu’s murderous glare could not be hidden. This man was a madman, a pervert, a killer, yet with her lady unconscious, she dared not act rashly.
“A cousin.”
“What’s his name?”
Baozhu studied Ruan Xi’s stance, clutching her sleeves.
“A distant cousin.”
“A distant cousin,” Ruan Xi sneered coldly. He was in no mood to play games with Baozhu. “Do you think she would still call him that in her unconscious state? Don’t think I’m a fool. Just because you are her personal maid doesn’t mean I won’t kill you.”
With one glance, Changqing’s dagger was at Baozhu’s neck.
Her mind raced. “Four years ago, when my lady traveled, the ship was attacked. She had to jump overboard, and this distant cousin saved her. Unfortunately, he was shot and did not survive. My lady felt guilty and has been thinking of him ever since.”
Ruan Xi’s predatory gaze remained fixed on Baozhu.
Finally, he gestured for her to hand over the cloth.
Cui Residence.
In the quiet courtyard, moonlight fell on the delicate yellow flower buds in the greenhouse.
A man’s bony fingers gently caressed the petals. His white silk robe was adorned with simple ink embroidery.
A scholar in white, gentle as jade.
The man’s hair was unbound, braided with a red ribbon. Qingzhou men, before coming of age, would braid their hair in long-life braids to pray for peace and joy.
After adulthood, hair was bound outside, but at home, they often wore the long-life braid.
“Brother, the Ministry of Punishments case is settled.”
Cui Hao replied with a soft “Hmm,” picking up a water jug to nourish the delicate flowers.
“I recently saw Sister Miaoyi at the Yan residence.”
His fingers trembled slightly, halting the watering. He looked at Cui Yan, hesitating.
“If you want to ask if she’s well, I won’t answer,” Cui Yan said, hitting the mark. “She is now divorced from Lord Shen. Visiting her is no fault. According to Daqian law, divorced couples may remarry. But in Qingzhou custom, remarriage within a year is frowned upon.”
Cui Yan looked at the precious jade orchid and continued, “This jade orchid fears cold and heat. If removed from a temperate environment, it will enter a state like hibernation—only leaves, no flowers. Brother, these flowers are common in Qingzhou, blooming brilliantly, but in the capital, they will die.”
Cui Hao’s expression darkened. He silently left the greenhouse and touched a round-headed doll mask hidden in the study.
Unspoken emotions lingered in his eyes.
[Today, I swear by the waters of Si Shui: Cui Hao will marry Jing Miaoyi alone, love and protect her. Should he break this oath, in ten lifetimes, the first nine filled with sorrow, the tenth, his soul shall burn eternally in Hell, never reunited with his beloved.]
[Today, we are betrothed; henceforth, you shall not call me ‘Brother’.]
Palace.
Changsheng Hall welcomed its own early winter.
Xiao Anzi served tea, but even standing under the sun, it felt cold.
“Li Neishi, what’s wrong with His Majesty? It’s terrifying. In this summer heat, I feel ill from it. Several days, unable to eat or sleep properly.”
Not just the young eunuchs were exhausted—he could barely bear it either. Jing Miaoyi was so stubborn; he had explained things clearly, yet she did not appease His Majesty.
“Water—”
The emperor roared.
Li Dequan hurried in, barely stepping inside before a stack of memorials assaulted him.
The ministers below dared not make a sound.
“Are you blind or deaf? Or both? Do you think I cannot see the silver you’ve greedily pocketed?”
“We humbly apologize, Your Majesty.”
“Apologize? Nonsense!” The Linhui Emperor, furious, smacked each minister with a memorial. “The Yellow River floods! I instructed the Ministry of Revenue to allocate funds for disaster relief. Relief! Relief! Relief!”
He struck each one thrice in anger.
“A minister did use the funds to help the people on both sides of the Yellow River, but… unfortunately—”
“Unfortunately what? You mean the local officials pocketed the funds!” The emperor nearly laughed in outrage and kicked each minister’s backside.
“You cannot even control your subordinates. What use are you? Any missing silver, I will scrape it from your mouths myself!”
The emperor raged, giving them no face at all.
Li Dequan stepped forward with tea.
The emperor sipped, but the pain made him cry out. Spitting out the tea, it turned red with blood.
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty! What happened? Summon Imperial Physician Zhang at once! Blood!”
“What summon, summon!” The emperor struck his head. “I am inflamed by these fools!”
The ministers bowed low, afraid to lift their heads.
“We are guilty, Your Majesty.”
“Begone! As long as the Yellow River floods remain, your heads will not rest!”
Imperial Physician Zhang hurried over, preparing medicine to reduce the fire, barely settling in when Zhao Jia rushed in.
“Your Majesty, I need the imperial physician.”
She tried to pull him along.
Already inflamed, the emperor saw Zhao Jia’s anger grow.
“Not allowed! Do you not see I am ill? How is it that your man is worse?”
The emperor now loathed seeing pairs of anything. Previously, two Ruyao vases were placed in the study; he moved them to the “Ends of the Earth.”
“You don’t understand, Your Majesty, these people provoked you. I’m saving lives. Imperial Physician Zhang must act immediately. Miaoyi will perish otherwise.”
“What!”
The emperor sprang to his feet, voice stern. “Who did you say?”
“Jing Miaoyi, Qingzhou’s Jing Miaoyi, my dear sister.” Zhao Jia did not notice the emperor’s unusual expression.
“What exactly happened to her?”
She paused, remembering her husband’s instructions before leaving.
After all, they had forcibly taken her from the Duke of Zhen Guo’s residence. The fewer who knew, the safer it was for Miaoyi.
If His Majesty found out, he might immediately issue a marriage edict. Miaoyi would be in real danger.
Zhao Jia did not answer, pulling Imperial Physician Zhang along, leaving the emperor completely bewildered.
“Princess, slow down, slow down. I am old.”
“Imperial Physician Zhang, lives are at stake! Walk faster!” Zhao Jia was frantic. Miaoyi had been burning for three or four days; the fever wouldn’t go down.
She feared the same fate for Miaoyi as Princess Rongxing.