Sun Ningning was still unaware that her life hung by a thread.
She strode toward him with unwavering determination.
Bai Ze’s expression was inscrutable, his eyes reflecting the woman’s anxious and worried face. He sneered inwardly:
Hah, what an utterly convincing performance.
How amusing.
Why would someone who’d had no connection with him across two lifetimes suddenly show concern?
Ah, perhaps it was because of his overly kind elder brother.
After all, her own sister was destined to marry his brother soon in the previous life.
But in this life, would Sun Wanwan still marry him?
As Bai Ze thought of the unexpected developments to come and the prospect of watching everyone’s masks slip…
His mood lifted with dark amusement.
The innkeeper and Xiao Er rushed over. Bai Ze glanced at them and withdrew his murderous intent toward Sun Ningning.
Noticing Bai Ze’s faintly mocking gaze, Sun Ningning felt a pang of sorrow for just a second.
She knew he distrusted her, but she didn’t mind.
Let him think whatever he wants.
One can pretend sincerity for a year or two, but not for a lifetime, right?
Sun Ningning refused to believe that if she stayed by his side for years, he would still doubt her after three, five, or even ten years.
The room was drenched in blood, the stench unbearable.
Ling Shuang was tying up the three maimed survivors while Feiyun briefed the arriving Prince Qin’s guards.
Sun Ningning nearly gagged at the metallic reek of warm, steaming blood, her stomach churning with nausea.
She pulled out a scented handkerchief to cover her nose and mouth, approaching Bai Ze to stand at a respectful distance.
“Are you unharmed, cousin?”
Bai Ze kept his hands behind his back, not sparing her a glance as he stepped around the large table.
He skirted Sun Ningning as though avoiding a corpse, moving to wash his hands at the basin before replying coldly:
“Miss Sun should not have come here.”
Surveying the carnage and Bai Ze’s blood-spattered face and robes, Sun Ningning realized yet another gift-giving opportunity had been lost.
Hearing his icy tone, she offered a polite bow, feigning nonchalance as she fawned:
“My apologies for disturbing you, cousin. I shall take my leave.”
Though she longed to cling obstinately, she preferred this approach—exchanging a few cautious words, however coldly—over earning his disgust.
Bai Ze had expected her to shamelessly persist and was mildly surprised by her compliance.
He loathed women who ignored clear rejection, made scenes, or wept easily.
Sun Ningning turned away dejectedly. After a few steps, her peripheral vision caught movement—an assassin she’d mistaken for a corpse suddenly lunged from his seated position!
A gleaming dagger thrust forward!
No!
Instinctively, Sun Ningning spun around and threw herself between them, startling the assassin into stumbling back.
In the split second she wrapped her arms tightly around Bai Ze, the dagger plunged deep into her left shoulder.
Sun Ningning experienced the legendary triple-retribution pain reserved for those who suffer in another’s stead.
Blood surged up her throat. Trembling violently from agony, her eyes instantly reddened.
The System frantically yelled: [Host! I warned you! I can’t block pain when you take injuries for others! Hang in there!]
[Hey! Host! Are you okay?!]
Gasping for breath through the torment, Sun Ningning rasped: [I’m… fine. Just… fucking hurts!]
[Damn… I… can’t…]
In that flash of steel and motion, Bai Ze had already sent the assassin flying with a single palm strike.
A loud crashing sound erupted as Ling Shuang and Feiyun cried out in alarm, accompanied by Xiaoyue’s loud sobbing.
“Master!”
“Miss!”
Bai Ze was held tightly by Sun Ningning, her arms locked firmly around his waist. He was so startled that he forgot to push her away.
Why?
A scheme of self-inflicted injury?
Sun Ningning had finally embraced her Xiao Ze, albeit in such a perilous situation.
But there was no time to savor the moment.
She could feel her strength draining away bit by bit…
Sun Ningning coughed up a mouthful of blood, the bright red droplets staining the begonia-red hem of Bai Ze’s robe, spreading into a dark patch.
Trembling, she released him and mustered all her strength to whisper:
“S-sorry, cousin… for staining your… robes…”
As she spoke, Xiaoyue’s weeping grew louder as she rushed over. Sun Ningning’s body went limp, and she slowly collapsed.
Instinctively, Bai Ze hooked an arm around Sun Ningning’s waist.
The touch of her fragrant yet bloodied form, her slender and soft waist seeming to mold into his palm, made him immediately frown with discomfort. Still, he calmly instructed Feiyun:
“Fetch a physician at once, and summon a royal physician from the palace to the Grand Secretary’s residence.”
In Feiyun’s mind, the image of that delicate figure fearlessly throwing herself in front of his master to block the blade replayed incessantly.
So shaken that he stammered, “Y-yes, right away, I’ll go.”
Xiaoyue dared not touch her mistress. Seeing the blood streaming down her mistress’s back, she covered her mouth in terror, weeping uncontrollably.
“Miss… wuwuwu… Miss…”
Bai Ze held Sun Ningning as if carrying a heavy burden.
Blood had seeped down to her waist, sticky and damp against his palm.
To say his heart was entirely calm would be a lie.
From the dreams that had first unsettled him, to Sun Ningning materializing from those dreams, standing before him nervously trying to strike up a conversation.
To her instinctive act of taking the blade for him just now.
Bai Ze’s first thought was: This spy is acting convincingly. This self-inflicted injury scheme truly made him falter for a moment.
But was she really a spy?
Deputy General Sun had long ago died in battle, and Lady Sun, after saving a city’s populace, succumbed to illness and followed him to the netherworld.
The people of Yue had pleaded for the Sun family, and even his father, deeply moved, had granted them a pardon token.
Not to mention Grand Secretary Sun, that stubborn old traditionalist who, in his past life, guarded the two sisters as if they were his own eyes.
She was merely a delicate noble young lady—hardly someone who needed to serve as that man’s spy.
If not…
Then why had she acted so selflessly on instinct just now?
If the blade had struck even a little deeper, it could have been fatal!