Pei Qingmin remained seated the entire time, lowering his gaze as he sipped his tea. On the surface he looked calm and composed, but the hand holding the teacup trembled slightly, betraying his unease. The danger of the confrontation earlier still lingered vividly in his mind, and the shock had not yet dissipated.
“Pei Qingmin, we’re leaving.” Leng Yue’er reached out to help him up. He looked at her, his long phoenix eyes still carrying a trace of lingering daze.
“It’s fine,” she said flatly. Her tone was indifferent and perfunctory, lacking warmth, yet carrying an inexplicable sense of certainty that was strangely reassuring.
Outside the palace gates, the carriage of the Wei Prince’s residence was already waiting. Leng Yue’er helped him aboard, and just as she was about to withdraw her hand, his fingers suddenly closed around her wrist. The grip was not strong, but it carried a stubborn refusal to let go.
“We need to talk,” he said, staring straight at her, confusion written all over his eyes.
Without answering, Leng Yue’er leapt into the carriage. The curtain fell, and the carriage rolled away slowly, shutting out the noise of the imperial palace.
Inside the carriage, silence filled the space so completely that even their breathing could be heard. Under the weight of each other’s gaze, Pei Qingmin finally spoke.
“What exactly are you? What are you trying to do? And why did my uncle fight you?”
“I am your dark guard. Real and proper,” Leng Yue’er replied without hesitation. “My job is to protect you. As for your uncle, he clearly wanted to kill you.”
“…It’s that simple?” he frowned, unconvinced.
“Why else would it be complicated?” she said, tilting her chin slightly with obvious pride. “Before he kills you, he has to get past me. And as you saw, he can’t. Your dark guard is very reliable.”
“What does that have to do with you being strong?” he asked, still confused.
“You’re really dense,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He can’t touch you because he can’t get past me. That’s all.”
Pei Qingmin fell silent for a moment. Strangely, the logic did not seem wrong. But suspicion still lingered in his heart.
“You already knew all of this would happen,” he said suddenly.
“Coincidence,” she replied lazily. “I just came to watch the show.”
Her expression was so natural, so dismissive, that he had no way to continue questioning her. The carriage soon fell into silence again. Leng Yue’er simply leaned back and closed her eyes.
When they returned to the Wei Prince’s residence, she jumped down first and left directly for her courtyard without hesitation. She had no appetite, only the desire to rest after a long morning of scheming and fighting.
Minghai, the palace attendant, stood at the gate and watched her leave, shaking his head helplessly before stepping forward to support Pei Qingmin.
“Master, please take care. You did not rest in the palace last night. This servant has been worried,” he said carefully, examining his complexion.
“Send someone to check on Lady Zhu Yan’er’s injury. Tell her I am unwell and will not visit today,” Pei Qingmin instructed calmly.
“Yes, Master.”
After a simple meal, he returned to his room and slept straight through until midnight.
When he awoke, the room was dark and silent. Yet his thoughts were anything but calm. Leng Yue’er’s image lingered in his mind.
She was his dark guard, capable in medicine, poison, and martial arts. Even the powerful Xun Junwang was no match for her. She never suffered losses in front of his mother. She was beautiful, composed, and seemingly flawless in every way.
How could he not be moved?
And yet, what did he have that could move her?
After an hour of tossing and turning, Pei Qingmin finally sat up abruptly and got out of bed. Minghai quickly entered.
“Master, where are you going?”
“Out,” he said shortly.
Without further explanation, he walked out. Minghai hurriedly followed and draped a cloak over his shoulders.
“No need for a carriage,” Pei Qingmin said.
Soon, Minghai realized where he was going—the small courtyard of Leng Yue’er.
At the courtyard gate, Pei Qingmin stopped.
“Wait outside.”
He pushed the door open and walked in.
Inside, Leng Yue’er had just returned from the kitchen and was sitting on the edge of the bed, eating something. The room was dark except for faint moonlight.
“What is it?” she asked lazily, not even looking displeased at the disturbance.
Pei Qingmin clenched his fist, then walked over and sat beside her.
“Yue’er, what you said during the day… Was it true?”
“Yue’er?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are you calling me that?”
They were superior and subordinate. That familiarity was new.
“I want to call you that,” he said seriously. “Yue’er, you never lied to me. You are the best person to me in this world.”
“I am your dark guard,” she replied flatly, shifting slightly away. “Protecting you is my duty.”
“Maybe it is duty,” he said, leaning closer again. “But you protect me, treat my illness, teach me medicine, help me, even take me to watch the drama. No one else has ever done this.”
Leng Yue’er twitched slightly at the corner of her mouth. Watching drama counted as kindness?
Before she could respond, Pei Qingmin took a deep breath and said firmly, “Yue’er, I want you to be my consort.”
She froze.
The next moment, she shifted back instinctively, but her clothes were caught beneath him. Losing balance, she fell onto the bed, and in pulling herself up, accidentally dragged him down as well.
“I… I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his ears turning red, but his gaze remained steady. “I am not joking. I am serious. When I am near you, I feel at ease. I have never felt this way before.”
He rested lightly against her shoulder, waiting for her answer.
Leng Yue’er was silent for a moment before speaking calmly.
“All the benefits are yours. What do I gain?”
“I can let you openly watch everything,” he said immediately. “All movements of the princes and noble ladies in the capital. No one will stop you.”
Leng Yue’er paused.
That actually sounded… convenient.
Three seconds later, she nodded decisively.
“Fine.”