The tea poured down over his head.
Xie Yunjin didn’t dodge.
He didn’t even close his eyes.
Water trickled down his pale, cold cheeks—one drop, two drops—gathering at his jawline before sliding down his collarbone and into his collar.
The candlelight reflected off the water trails.
He looked like an Asura who had just taken off his armor, chilling yet captivating.
“Second Master, is this the right way to seduce you?” Ci’er smiled, though the amusement only reached the corners of her lips.
Xie Yunjin poked out the tip of his tongue and slowly licked the tea stain off the corner of his mouth, letting out a low chuckle.
“You’re getting bolder.”
With that, he grabbed Ci’er by the waist and pulled her into his arms.
His breath was scalding, his tone dangerous, like a wild beast that had just caught the scent of its own kind.
“Do you believe I’ll tear you apart?”
Ci’er tilted her head up to look at him and smiled faintly.
“Second Master, we are in the same boat.
Rather than trying to scare me with words, why don’t we…” She paused, a hint of mischief flashing in her eyes.
“…make our time together more enjoyable?”
Xie Yunjin gave a half-smile.
“What do you mean by enjoyable?”
Ci’er didn’t answer.
Staring into Xie Yunjin’s eyes, she suddenly shoved him back onto the wooden couch behind them.
She pressed herself against him.
Her wet hair tumbled down, hanging beside his face like a curtain that isolated them from the outside world.
Xie Yunjin yielded to her push, leaning back against the edge of the couch.
A lazy curve formed at the corners of his lips.
His expression resembled a hunter watching a small beast test his bottom line—dangerous, yet intrigued.
“Is this all you’ve got?”
Ci’er’s eyes rippled with a fierce glint.
“What’s the rush?”
With that, she grabbed the fabric of his outer robe and yanked hard.
RIP.
The brocade tore open, exposing the whip lashes on Xie Yunjin’s body to the candlelight.
Scabs, bruises, and dark welts overlapped.
Beneath the fresh injuries lay many old scars of varying depths, crisscrossing like a piece of land that had been repeatedly trampled but never allowed to heal.
The warmth in the room instantly froze.
Ci’er stared at the scars, her tone carrying just the right amount of schadenfreude.
“So even the powerful Director of the Embroidery Bureau gets whipped sometimes.”
“It’s just a beating, not worth mentioning.” Xie Yunjin looked indifferent, as if the scars belonged to someone else.
“A key prisoner escaped from the Stone Prison.
Someone has to take the blame.”
He had suffered these injuries to save her.
They both knew it perfectly well, yet neither spoke of it.
“Second Master is already at this age and still gets disciplined by his own father.
That’s a blessing others can’t ask for.”
Xie Yunjin’s breathing sank, his eyes turning cold.
“I failed in my supervision.
This whipping is him taking our father-son bond into consideration.”
“Do you hate him, Second Master?” Ci’er asked.
“Your father, the Prince.”
Xie Yunjin met her gaze, his eyes brimming with mockery.
“Did five years in the Stone Prison make you stupid?”
He suddenly exerted force, flipping her off his body and reversing their positions.
He pinned her beneath him, his movements crisp and clean, as if practiced countless times.
Ci’er only caught a glimpse of his sharp jawline and the curve of his neck before her back hit the soft cushion heavily.
“Fool,” he said, lowering his head until his nose almost touched hers.
“Not everything in this world is about love and hate.
What I want is power.” He enunciated every word, “Hate?
It’s too cheap.”
Ci’er half-squinted, smiling.
“Was saving me from the Stone Prison also a move in your fight for power?”
“What else?” Xie Yunjin reached out, his fingers tracing from her brow bone down to her jaw, finally stopping at the corner of her lips.
“Don’t tell me you thought I liked you?”
“Then you’d better control yourself, Second Master,” Ci’er said with a beaming smile.
“Being liked by someone you don’t like is quite disgusting.”
A knocking sound came from outside the door—one long, two short.
It was the emergency signal of the Embroidery Bureau.
The trace of amusement on Xie Yunjin’s face vanished instantly.
He straightened up, a layer of frost settling in his eyes.
“Come in.”
Ying Qi pushed the door open, entered, and bowed.
Without looking at Ci’er, he wore an expression that was both serious and subtle.
It looked as if he was holding something back, swallowing twice before managing to force the words out.
“Director, the fourth body of the Painted Skin Case has been found.”
Xie Yunjin didn’t speak; he simply tilted his chin up slightly, signaling him to continue.
“The deceased is Cui Hong, an embroideress from the Golden Embroidery Pavilion.
Half an hour ago, her body was discovered in front of an embroidery frame on the second floor of the Golden Embroidery Pavilion.” Ying Qi paused.
“But this time, the killer didn’t take the skin.”
“Didn’t take it?” Xie Yunjin’s expression hardened.
“Explain in detail!”
“The skin and flesh were separated but not fully detached.” Ying Qi spoke slowly, as if considering his wording, or perhaps trying hard not to throw up yesterday’s dinner.
“The skin was still on her face, but it was completely peeled back from the center of her brows to her chin.
When the forensic doctor arrived, she was still alive.
Her eyes could move, and he watched as she breathed her last.”
He gestured on his own face, then stole a glance at Xie Yunjin and forced himself to continue.
“There is one more thing.
I just received news that the Young Master is investigating Miss Shen.”