Yu Jiao ran out in a rush, and from a distance, she saw someone kneeling right in the center.
Before she could get close, the person wailed, “Miss! Miss, don’t be afraid! Xiu’er will save you, don’t be afraid!”
Yu Jiao twitched the corner of her mouth. This Xiu’er was tied up and kneeling on the ground herself.
Chu Yin still wore his red clothes lazily, reclining in the chair, legs crossed, one hand toying with a dagger while the other lightly tapped the armrest, mischief ingrained in his very bones.
His face still showed lingering traces of sickness, his rebellious expression lifting as he glanced at her.
Xiu’er continued to wail, demanding her lady be released. Chu Yin’s impatience grew, his irritation deepening.
Clearly, they were both noisy. The little rabbit’s fuss was almost endearing, but this one made him genuinely annoyed.
He lowered his gaze, glancing at the shining dagger, and in the next instant, Yu Jiao saw his eyes change from calm to blood-red.
“Ying Feng, what do you think of using these bones for lantern frames?”
After speaking, the corner of Chu Yin’s lips curved into a sinister smile, looking like the King of Hell himself.
The next moment, he stood up.
“Prince!”
Yu Jiao ran straight into his arms. “Prince, your injuries aren’t healed yet. Let me hold you steady.”
She stood on tiptoe, ostensibly to support him, but in truth, she hugged him tightly to prevent him from moving forward, her small head pressed against his chest.
He bent down slightly and smelled the orange scent—sweet and fragrant.
Feeling the person in her arms calm, Yu Jiao released him.
The empty space left in his embrace made Chu Yin frown in displeasure. Coldly, he said,
“Ying Feng, what about using these bones for candle wicks?”
“No, Prince!” Yu Jiao gripped his waist even tighter, holding him close to her chest.
Ying Jue had just caught up from behind and witnessed a shocking scene: the Prince’s lips curved in a genuine smile as he looked at the person in his arms.
Not a cold sneer, not a murderous smile, not a hidden smirk—this was a real, actual smile!
Yu Jiao looked up at him, pouting, speaking in a coaxing tone, “Prince, actually, she’s my long-lost maid. She only misspoke out of worry for my safety. You won’t mind, right?”
Deep in her feelings, she inhaled sharply, her eyes glistening with the threat of tears.
Chu Yin frowned, thinking this pair of eyes looked awful when crying.
“Prince~” Yu Jiao pulled one hand free, pinching his sleeve and shaking it gently. Her voice was soft and sticky. “My bond with her is very deep. Prince, please spare her, okay?”
“All right.” Chu Yin withdrew his gaze, looking at her with a half-smile, half-sneer. Yu Jiao felt a chill run through her; this smile seemed loaded with meaning.
Sure enough, his next words came: “If your bond is so deep, then let her be used for candle wicks, burning every day.”
The little rabbit in his arms shivered involuntarily, and Chu Yin’s smile grew more wicked.
Xiu’er continued, snot and tears flying, “Even if you tear me to pieces, I’ll still take my lady away!”
The words “take away” irritated him; Chu Yin struggled to free Yu Jiao, wanting to rip that mouth open immediately.
“Slap!”
A crisp slap echoed.
Yu Jiao suddenly let go of Chu Yin and struck Xiu’er across the face, shouting, “Xiu’er, shut up!”
“In the Prince’s Mansion, there is only the Princess Consort, no Miss. I am now the Prince’s person; never be so rude again!”
“I am doing well. I won’t leave, I won’t ever leave the Prince. This lifetime, the next, and the lifetimes beyond—I will never go.”
Yu Jiao pressed herself against him again, like a small rabbit seeking praise, obedient and cute. “Prince, am I right?”
Chu Yin lowered his head, confused. The little rabbit had just… said… lifetimes beyond.
Suddenly, it wasn’t fun anymore—not fun at all.
He forcefully pushed her away, lounging lazily in the chair again. With disdain, he said, “Who wants to dirty the blade with something so ugly?”
He frowned and added, “Who would care about bones this ugly?”
Yu Jiao’s brows shot up, voice full of joy. “Xiu’er, hurry and thank the Prince!”
Xiu’er froze. She was ugly to the bone and still had to thank him?
The next moment, seeing his cold expression, she shrank back, muttered a thanks, and was escorted away by Ying Feng and Ying Jue.
Chu Yin looked down at her intent gaze following the maid’s retreat. She was so ugly—what was there to see? He was a hundred times better looking.
He smirked in disdain, then grabbed her wrist, yanking her into his arms. Yu Jiao, dizzy, instinctively looped her arms around his neck.
She felt something uncomfortable and shifted slightly.
Chu Yin frowned, annoyed that the Gu worm inside him stirred. A ripple of agitation, blood trickled from his mouth, and Yu Jiao instinctively raised her hand to wipe it.
He watched her movements, eyes full of meaning.
Looking at the dark red on his red clothes, he smiled wryly.
His blood was dirty.
This was her own doing.
He glanced at her, realizing the clothes she wore… seemed to be his.
His eyes fell on the messily tied sash. Yu Jiao followed his gaze downward, cheeks flushing.
Chu Yin studied her for a moment. His hand was pale, sickly, veins faintly visible. His fingers were long, slender, and exquisite.
The next moment, his fingers reached out and lightly lifted the sash, undoing it piece by piece. The last strap loosened, and a breeze swept in, making her shiver.
“Prince!” Yu Jiao held his hand, looking up at him anxiously.
Chu Yin looked at her with a half-smile and slowly retied the sash, glancing at her: “Princess Consort of Yan, what are you thinking now?”
His fingertips occasionally brushed her skin, tingling and ticklish. Yu Jiao coughed lightly in embarrassment, turning her head, and noticed the medicated plasters on the table. Frowning, she picked them up, recalling his injuries.
As if scolding, she said, “Prince, your injuries aren’t fully healed. How can we not change the dressings?”
Chu Yin expressionlessly regarded the dark plasters, lips curling wryly. Change them—what would it matter? As long as that thing stayed inside his body, it was useless.
Yu Jiao glanced at the medicine, then at his eyes, and giggled.
When their eyes met, she composed herself, patted his head, coaxing, “Prince, as long as you’re willing to change the dressings, I’ll do anything for you, okay?”
Chu Yin paused. Anything? He looked at the plasters with meaning and mischievously asked, “All right. Then undress here and let me change them.”
Undress… here? His wound was just below his abdomen.
Chu Yin smirked, repeating, “Right here. You’ll do it yourself.”
Yu Jiao stared at the plasters, hesitating, cheeks and ears burning.
Before she could decide, Chu Yin suddenly took her hand and pressed it against his sash.