Leng Yue’er finished the two pastries with evident satisfaction, her thoughts drifting as she unconsciously replayed the earlier scene on the boat.
The distant exchange between Pei Yuanzhun and Qu Moying, the jealousy Qu Xuexin could not conceal in her eyes, and Xiao Hanyuan’s utterly foolish demeanor as he was toyed with in the palm of others’ hands, the more she thought about it, the more amusing it became.
The creak of a door opening snapped her wandering thoughts back. Leng Yue’er instantly straightened her back, her gaze fixed ahead as she assumed the proper posture of a dark guard. Even if her mind was full of watching the drama, she still had to put on a convincing show of doing her job.
Dressed in a moon-white brocade robe, Pei Qingmin slowly stepped out of the room. His movements were unhurried, each step revealing the frailty of his condition.
His features were refined, and the plain folding fan he usually held now hung at his waist, swaying gently with his steps. Even such a subtle motion seemed to cost him effort.
The attendant behind him followed closely, hardly daring to breathe, afraid of disturbing his master.
Watching him take just a few steps, Leng Yue’er could not help but complain inwardly. With such a fragile body, he would be better off resting at home, yet he insisted on coming out and delaying her from watching the spectacle, leaving her restless with frustration.
As her mind wandered, a sudden fit of coughing broke out. Pei Qingmin’s body swayed, and he leaned directly toward her.
Without time to think, she instinctively reached out, gripping his wrist with precision and steadying him. The instincts of an assassin allowed her to respond swiftly even while distracted.
“You…” His weak voice sounded close to her shoulder, his unsteady breath brushing against her neck, carrying a faint scent of medicine and sandalwood.
Unaccustomed to such close contact, Leng Yue’er’s brows knit tightly. Her first instinct was to push him away, even to kick him aside. In her world, such involuntary closeness had never existed.
“Your Highness! Your Highness, are you alright?” The attendant’s anxious cries rang out, sharp and urgent, pulling her back to reality and reminding her of her current identity. She was Pei Qingmin’s dark guard, not the top assassin who could act entirely as she pleased.
Suppressing her irritation, she loosened her grip slightly, yet unexpectedly, Pei Qingmin seized her sleeve and refused to let go.
“I… only need to lean for a moment… cough…” Before he could finish, another violent coughing fit overtook him. In his disorientation, his other hand grasped the sash at her waist as if clutching a lifeline.
The attendant moved forward to assist, but Pei Qingmin stopped him with a word, leaving him to stand by.
Leng Yue’er frowned even more deeply. When her fingers had touched his wrist, she had clearly sensed the presence of a chronic poison within him. It was not lethal, yet it lingered persistently, draining his vitality day by day. It would not kill him immediately, but it ensured a life of prolonged suffering.
Yet she felt nothing. What did it have to do with her? As long as he stayed alive long enough for her to watch all the drama unfold, that was enough.
She simply steadied herself and supported him, her eyes remaining as cold as ever, her thoughts still occupied with the spectacle she had yet to finish watching.
After a long while, his coughing gradually subsided, leaving only weak, lingering breaths. His face remained pale, though slightly more composed.
“Your Highness… we should return to the residence. Your body truly cannot withstand this,” the attendant urged cautiously, his face full of concern.
“It is fine,” Pei Qingmin replied calmly, his tone devoid of emotion. “It is rare to come out during the Qixi Festival. Even if I cannot view the lantern sea up close… merely seeing it from afar… is enough.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the attendant responded quickly. “I will make arrangements to go to the nearest pavilion. You can view the spectacle from a distance while avoiding the crowd and the cold.” He stepped forward to assist.
“No need. Let her help me to the carriage,” Pei Qingmin said, lifting his gaze to finally take in the appearance of the dark guard before him.
Her face was small and youthful, yet her peach blossom eyes, which should have held warmth, were devoid of it. Combined with her high nose and pale lips pressed into a straight line, her entire expression seemed lifeless, carrying a coldness that kept others at a distance.
Dull, rigid, and distant.
Pei Qingmin frowned slightly and turned his head away. The inexplicable sense of reassurance he had felt while leaning on her had already vanished, replaced by an indescribable detachment.
Leng Yue’er noticed his reaction and let out a quiet, disdainful snort. Was this sickly man actually looking down on her?
“Your Highness, are we going or not?” Her voice was low and slightly impatient. She only wanted to finish this quickly and find another chance to slip away and watch the show, unwilling to waste time here.
“Hmph.” Irritated by her tone, Pei Qingmin let out a cold snort, turning away completely as he reached for the attendant instead. The attendant hurried forward to support him, carefully helping him downstairs and into the carriage.
Leng Yue’er followed with the other dark guards, mounting her horse. Looking ahead at the dense crowd, her brows knotted tightly.
The road toward the lantern sea was packed, carriages barely able to move, progressing at a snail’s pace. With Pei Qingmin’s frailty, walking was not an option, but at this rate, she would not even catch the tail end of the spectacle.
Her mind raced through various escape plans, hoping to free herself from this constraint and return to her grand mission of watching the drama.
Inside the carriage, Pei Qingmin leaned against the cushions, his pale fingers resting lightly over his chest. His eyes lowered, concealing a trace of gloom, yet the image of that cold-faced guard surfaced again in his mind. Her features were well-formed, yet utterly devoid of warmth, leaving only an icy distance that struck him as strangely intriguing.
Tilting his head, he looked out through the swaying curtain and happened to catch sight of her again.
She frowned slightly, her peach blossom eyes half-narrowed with visible anxiety. Her lips pressed into a line before she unconsciously pouted, clearly troubled by something she could not resolve.
She lifted her chin and gazed toward the lantern sea, her urgency growing. Then she leaned close to another guard and whispered a few words. Without waiting for a response, she leapt lightly from her horse and disappeared into the crowd within moments.
Pei Qingmin abruptly sat upright. The sudden movement triggered another cough, but he ignored it, pulling aside the curtain and staring intently in the direction she had vanished.
“Where did she go?” His voice was weak, yet carried a subtle tension.
“Your Highness… whom are you referring to?” The guard he questioned felt his heart tighten, hastily bowing as a thin layer of sweat formed on his palms.
Pei Qingmin responded faintly, “Mm?”
“Your Highness, she said… she said she was hungry and went to buy some pastries,” the guard replied stiffly, already panicking inside. That person had been dressed as a dark guard yet mixed among them freely. Who knew who she actually was?
She had been far too casual, making an excuse and slipping away before he could react. She had just eaten two pastries earlier, how could she be hungry again so soon? Yet he could not expose her lie, and now that the prince had asked directly, it felt like disaster looming over him.
Pei Qingmin slowly lowered the curtain and leaned back again, his fingers returning to his chest as he calmed his breathing. After a long silence, he spoke in an unreadable tone.
“She is a dark guard. Who sent her to my side?”
“Your Highness, she was sent by Consort Jing,” the attendant replied cautiously, having also noticed something amiss. For a mere dark guard to act so brazenly…
Cold sweat covered his forehead as he bowed deeply, his voice extremely careful, afraid of provoking his master.