When those hands slipped under the covers and grasped his own, Li Fengqi nearly lost control and opened his eyes.
The person by the bedside was murmuring something, but he no longer had the heart to make out the words; all his attention was fixed on the hand that held his.
The palm was soft, unlike his own, calloused from years of gripping a blade. Only the pads of the middle and ring fingers bore faint, thin calluses—likely from years of holding a brush and practicing calligraphy. The grip was gentle, both hands enveloping his own, lightly stroking it, chasing away the chill that had settled in.
They were warming him.
This was not someone sent by Li Zong.
After a moment’s thought, Li Fengqi guessed the identity of the other.
It had to be Ye Yunting, the eldest son of the Duke of Qi Guo’s mansion—the male consort Li Zong had used to humiliate him. The one who had wiped his face that morning was probably the same man.
Li Fengqi knew quite a bit about the affairs of the Qi Guo mansion. Before Ye Zhili rose to power, he had married the younger sister of Wang Qie, the Minister of the Court of Justice. But less than two years after their marriage, Lady Wang died in childbirth, leaving behind only one son—the eldest, Ye Yunting. It wasn’t entirely Ye Zhili’s fault, but within a year of Lady Wang’s death, he remarried—to the current madam, Yin Hongye. Not long after, Yin Hongye became pregnant and gave birth to the second son, Ye Wang. From that point on, the Wang family severed all ties with the Qi Guo mansion.
When Emperor Taizong of Northern Zhao founded the nation, he divided it into one capital, five prefectures, and thirteen provinces. The capital was Shangjing, and the five prefectures were Yunrong, Runan, Longyou, Nieyang, and Beijiang. Each prefecture governed several provinces, but among them, Yunrong Prefecture was the most powerful, overseeing Luzhou, Zhongzhou, and Jizhou—the three provinces surrounding the capital, historically responsible for the security of Shangjing and the imperial palace.
The current Grand Commander of Yunrong Prefecture was Yin Xiaozhi, a close confidant of the emperor. Though he did not reside in Shangjing, it did nothing to diminish the Yin family’s influence and status there.
Yin Hongye was none other than Yin Xiaozhi’s most favored granddaughter.
She was a full generation younger than Ye Zhili. It was said that despite the Yin family’s objections, she insisted on becoming Ye Zhili’s second wife. Yin Xiaozhi, though displeased, ultimately consented to the marriage because of how much he doted on his young granddaughter. Over the years, Ye Zhili leveraged the Yin family’s power to climb from a fallen, heirless duke on the fringes to his current status as Chief Minister, wielding power comparable to the prime minister.
Once he gained power, Ye Zhili lavished care on his second wife and younger son, but the eldest son from his first marriage became a burden. Yin Hongye was proud and spoiled; though she did not treat her stepson as an outright obstacle, she certainly didn’t treat him kindly. Ye Zhili turned a blind eye, often not even allowing the eldest son to leave the mansion, as if he did not exist.
By tradition, Ye Yunting, as the legitimate eldest son, should have been granted the title of heir apparent upon turning ten. Yet Ye Zhili kept delaying, citing his son’s frail health as an excuse. Now, he had gone so far as to send him to this manor to serve as a living talisman to dispel bad luck.
Though Li Fengqi had always known Ye Zhili to be hypocritical and ruthless, he never imagined the man would be so cruel as to sacrifice his own son to make way for the younger one.
In that light, Ye Yunting’s situation was not so different from his own.
Ye Yunting’s reaction today was far different from what he had anticipated.
A few days ago, Li Zong had been unable to contain his excitement as he told him that Sitian Tai had arranged a bride with a matching fate to bring luck to him—a bride from a noble family, beautiful in appearance, except she was a man.
Of course, the “matching fate” was just a lie spun by Sitian Tai for show. Li Zong simply wanted to use this opportunity to shove a man into Ye Yunting’s life as a bride, just to disgust him.
He still vividly remembered Li Zong’s expression at that moment—so eager and impatient, watching him with anticipation, hoping to see a look of humiliation on his face. But unfortunately for Li Zong, Ye Yunting had not given him the satisfaction, and in the end, he stormed back to the palace in a fit of rage.
Yet, not long after, Ye Yunting was indeed sent into the prince’s mansion.
Li Fengqi had never paid much attention to this eldest son of the Duke of Qi. He had only heard that Ye Yunting was confined to the rear courtyard most of the time and rarely went outside, leading him to assume he was a timid and incompetent man.
Now that Ye Yunting had been married off to bring luck to a dying man, essentially discarded, and possibly even destined to die alongside him, it was only natural to expect a fuss—crying, screaming, even threats of suicide.
But he never expected Ye Yunting to take the initiative to care for the dying man.
When something is out of the ordinary, there must be a reason behind it.
Li Fengqi’s mind raced as he contemplated Ye Yunting’s motives. Suddenly, he felt a chill on the back of his hand—the very hands that had been warming him slipped away from beneath the covers, followed by the soft sound of footsteps retreating.
He opened his eyes to see a tall, slender figure walking toward the bedside.
Though Li Zong had grown increasingly erratic and unhinged, one thing he hadn’t been wrong about was that the eldest son of the Duke of Qi was indeed handsome. Just from his posture and silhouette, he exuded an undeniable charm.
Li Fengqi’s gaze followed the figure to the bedside, where Ye Yunting began tidying the half-made bed. His movements were somewhat clumsy—pulling the mattress left and right, yet unable to smooth it out perfectly. Eventually, perhaps out of frustration, he gave up and roughly arranged the pillows and quilt in a heap.
There was still a trace of childishness in his manner.
Li Fengqi lowered his eyes in thought for a moment, then decided to test him.
He closed his eyes, his long brows twisting in pain as he weakly called out, “Wa-water…”
Ye Yunting, who had just barely finished tidying the bed, paused and quickly came to his side to check on him. The man’s lips were cracked and pale, his weak breaths slipping out between parted lips, making him look all the more fragile and pitiful.
No wonder—he hadn’t had a drop of water all day.
Ye Yunting hurriedly went to the next room to pour a cup of water. But as he brought it to the sick man’s lips, he suddenly remembered that he had just been exposed to the cold wind and was still ill. Giving him cold water like this wouldn’t do. Hesitating for a moment, he set the cup down and fetched a candleholder, then carefully held the cup over the flickering flame to warm the water.
By now, night had fallen, and the cold night breeze blew in through the cracks of the window, causing the candlelight to flicker.
The man on the bed, still weakly calling for “water,” stirred Ye Yunting’s anxiety. With one hand shielding the flame and the other holding the cup above it, he waited patiently. When the water was finally warmed, his fingers were already reddened and burned from the heat.
Ye Yunting let out two soft hisses, rubbing his reddened fingers before carefully placing a soft pillow behind Li Fengqi’s head and bringing warm water to his lips.
The warm water flowed over his parched lips, down his thirsty throat, and finally settled into his stomach.
Li Fengqi had only meant to test him at first, but once the warm water touched his throat, his body eagerly demanded more. He drank cup after cup, unable to suppress a low sigh.
He couldn’t even remember how long it had been since he last tasted warm water.
Five days? Ten days? Or maybe a whole month?
Li Zong had treated him with deep suspicion. Since Li Fengqi had been poisoned and bedridden for over a month, Li Zong first killed the loyal retainers in the manor, then confined him there, cutting off all communication between the capital and the northern border. No news of his condition could reach the north, and no help came.
There had been harsher hardships on the battlefield, but this kind of humiliation was a first. Though he wasn’t at the brink of collapse, it was far from comfortable.
The physical pain was the lesser burden; what weighed heavier was the sting of betrayal. If he weren’t forced to hold back for now, he would have demanded to ask Li Zong: was the brotherhood they’d shared for over ten years all a lie?
He had guarded the border for him, slain corrupt ministers, secured the throne—only to be repaid with such disgrace.
This cup of warm water from Ye Yunting at least made him feel that not everyone in the world was as cruel and heartless as Li Zong.
Li Fengqi’s chest rose and fell several times before he finally opened his eyes.
Ye Yunting had been watching him closely, and their eyes met.
The man’s gaze was deep and steady, with a clear trace of scrutiny.
Li Fengqi froze for a moment, then quickly caught on. “The prince is awake?” He paused, then added, “I’m Ye Yunting.” He didn’t say more, but Li Fengqi likely understood everything else.
Li Fengqi studied him for a moment, noticing the calm fearlessness in his eyes, along with a hint of concern. He finally spoke: “Thank you.” His voice was still hoarse, but much smoother than before, when it had sounded like gravel scraping against stone.
His tone was far gentler than before. Ye Yunting was slightly taken aback but shook his head. “No need to thank me, Your Highness.”
After he spoke, Li Fengqi didn’t reply and closed his eyes again.
The two fell silent for a while. Seeing that Li Fengqi’s expression was relatively peaceful, and noticing the sky had already darkened outside, Ye Yunting grew worried about Ji Lian, who hadn’t returned yet. He said, “I’ll go look for him,” and rose to leave.
Ji Lian had been out all afternoon, and now that night had fallen, it was about time he came back.
As Ye Yunting wondered where to search, the door suddenly opened. Ji Lian’s voice came in, noisy and excited: “Young master! Young master! Dinner’s ready!”
Even from a distance, the joy in his voice was unmistakable.
Ye Yunting stepped into the outer room and saw Ji Lian carrying two bowls of steaming porridge.
“Where did you get hot porridge?” Ye Yunting asked in surprise.
“I made it myself.” Ji Lian closed the door after setting down the bowls, then proudly said, “I searched the entire manor, found the kitchen, and dug up some unused rice. Since they weren’t delivering any meals, I decided to make porridge myself.”
The prince’s mansion was a sprawling estate with five courtyards in and five courtyards out. Although all the servants had been dismissed, and many valuable and precious items had been confiscated—or taken away by fleeing servants—there were still some useful things to be found if one looked carefully, especially in places like the kitchen.
“It’s a pity all the meat and vegetables have spoiled, otherwise we could have cooked a couple of dishes,” Ji Lian lamented.
Ye Yunting chuckled at this. “Hot porridge isn’t bad either.”
Then he lowered his voice and asked, “Have you found where those hidden sentinels are?”
At this, Ji Lian grew even more pleased. He leaned in close, pressing his head against Ye Yunting’s, and whispered the results of his investigation: “There are four of them in total, all hidden in the old trees of the main courtyard—one each to the east, south, west, and north. I searched everywhere else, but found no one. Only two or three elderly servants live in the back quarters.”
Only four guards in the main courtyard—that was better than Ye Yunting had expected.
He asked again, “What about those two maidservants? Did you see them when you were in the mansion?”
Ji Lian thought for a moment and shook his head. “They probably aren’t in the mansion.”
It was already dark now; if they had been, there would certainly have been lit candles or lamps. But on his way through, except for the back quarters, Ye Yunting hadn’t seen any lights.
The maids weren’t in the mansion... Ye Yunting lowered his gaze, deep in thought. He guessed these two weren’t originally servants of the prince’s household. But who had sent them, he had no idea.
Ji Lian saw the worry on his face and nudged the bowl of porridge toward him. “Young master, eat some porridge first, or it’ll get cold.”
Ye Yunting snapped back to the present, lifted the bowl and was about to eat, but suddenly remembered there was someone in the inner room. He stood up again, found a clean small bowl, ladled out some porridge, quickly drank a small portion himself, then carried the rest into the inner room.
As he walked, he pondered how long the kitchen’s rice supplies would last. It seemed he’d have to find a way to get more silver and buy some rice.
Inside, Li Fengqi had been listening intently to the sounds outside ever since Ye Yunting left.
His hearing was sharp, and even the whispered conversations between master and servant were perfectly clear to him. This made him even more surprised—this eldest young master was increasingly exceeding all his expectations.
When Ye Yunting came in carrying the bowl of porridge, Li Fengqi was still reflecting on how someone so outstanding in both appearance and composure could be pushed into such a dire situation by Ye Zhili’s recklessness.
As for Ye Wang, the spoiled playboy—did Ye Zhili really expect him to step up and save the day?
Li Fengqi was utterly baffled.
Before he could finish his thoughts, Ye Yunting set down the bowl and approached him. He lifted the thin blanket off Li Fengqi, placed one hand on his back, and slipped the other under his knees.
Li Fengqi blinked in surprise. “What are you doing?”
By now, Ye Yunting was a familiar presence, and this time he expertly lifted him horizontally, face to face, and said, “It’s cold here. I’m carrying the prince to bed.”
His tone was calm, his expression even calmer.
If it weren’t Li Fengqi himself being held in his arms, he might not have thought anything unusual about it.
Li Fengqi took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and weakly muttered, “Forget it.”
In extraordinary times, extraordinary measures. There was no need to be bound by convention.
He struggled to convince himself inwardly.
Ye Yunting paid no attention to the flickering expressions on his face. He carried him back to bed, covered him with a quilt, and then brought over some warm porridge to feed him.
Li Fengqi lowered his gaze and took a sip of the porridge, then recalled what he had just heard. "Li Zong even cut off your food?"
Hearing him speak the emperor’s name so directly, Ye Yunting wasn’t particularly surprised. He fed him another spoonful of porridge before replying, "Yes, perhaps I offended an eunuch from the palace today, which is why we lost our meals." After all, there had still been some food to stave off hunger in the previous life.
"You’re quite bold," Li Fengqi said, lifting his eyes to look at him when he mentioned offending an eunuch from the palace.
Ye Yunting smiled but didn’t elaborate on the day’s events. "I just spoke a few honest truths; the eunuch simply didn’t like hearing them."
Li Fengqi didn’t press further on the matter and instead asked, "If Li Zong keeps refusing to send food, what do you plan to do?"
"There’s still some grain left in the kitchen," Ye Yunting replied without much worry. "I also have some silver on hand; I can exchange it for more grain and hold out a little longer. But..." His gaze swept across Li Fengqi’s calm face as he tested him, "Winter is coming soon. Without coal or firewood, I doubt we can survive. Everything in the Prince’s mansion has been ransacked. Do you know if there’s anywhere else in the mansion that might hide valuables?"
After speaking, he fixed his eyes on Li Fengqi, watching his expression closely.
Since in the previous life Li Fengqi managed to survive the deadly poison without Ye Yunting’s help and even later led troops back to the capital to reclaim his position, Ye Yunting refused to believe that at a time like this, Li Fengqi truly had no backup plans and was just waiting to be slaughtered.
Prince Yong'an, a brilliant tactician, might stumble, but he wouldn’t fall so hard that he couldn’t get back up.
Yet under Ye Yunting’s unblinking gaze, Li Fengqi’s expression remained unchanged. He licked his cracked lips as if he hadn’t caught the implication behind Ye Yunting’s words. "I’ve spent most of my years on the northern frontier. There really aren’t any valuables hidden in this mansion. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed." He paused for a moment, then added, "This marriage was never my choice. If you have the courage, escape tonight with your servants. If you don’t know where to go, head north to find Zhu Wen. Tell him it’s on my behalf; he’ll give you a place to stay."
Ye Yunting’s eyes darkened at those words, thinking that Li Fengqi still didn’t trust him.
But he quickly came to accept it. That was only natural. Prince Yong'an had just fallen into this calamity—how could he possibly reveal all his cards to a stranger he had only known for a day? If he did, then he wouldn’t truly be Prince Yong'an.
He shook his head. "I won’t leave." And he couldn’t.
Since the moment he entered the mansion, he and Li Fengqi were bound together. If Li Fengqi died, he would die too. If Li Fengqi was still alive, but he ran away, he would inevitably face the double pursuit of both the palace and the Duke of Qi’s mansion.
With Ji Lian and no funds or travel documents, once outside the capital, they would be strangers in a strange land, unable to get far.
Better to gamble than to escape and be dragged back to a miserable end.
He was betting on Prince Yong'an’s ship not sinking.
When Li Fengqi saw that the words "escape" did not faze him in the slightest, a few traces of admiration appeared in his eyes.
Not only was he not foolish, but he was also very clear-headed.
He lowered his gaze, hiding the emotions swirling in his eyes. After finishing the porridge, he excused himself to rest, no longer engaging in conversation with Ye Yunting.
Seeing this, Ye Yunting went outside to put away the bowl, then, together with Ji Lian, fumbled through the darkness to the back kitchen to heat some water for washing up. Only after extinguishing the candle did he settle onto the imperial couch in the inner chamber. The bedding had been fetched from a side room—clean and warm. Though the couch was a bit narrow, it was still suitable for sleeping.
In truth, the mansion was vast, with many empty rooms available for rest. But with the current uncertain situation, Ye Yunting feared being too far away and missing any sudden developments. He preferred to stay cramped in the main chamber rather than risk something happening unnoticed.
As the night deepened, Ye Yunting, exhausted from a long day and lost in thoughts of his past life, gradually drifted into a hazy sleep.
Outside the window, the night owl’s call echoed—one long hoot followed by a short one.
On the bed, Li Fengqi’s eyes snapped open, his mouth emitting a response of three longs and one short call.
The night owl outside paused briefly, then the flutter of wings took off through the woods. Moments later, two short hoots and one long one sounded again.
Meanwhile, in the pitch-black room, a window silently slid open. A figure slipped inside with practiced ease and quietly closed the window behind him.
The newcomer’s attention first fell on Ye Yunting, sound asleep on the imperial couch. Pressing two fingers firmly against Ye Yunting’s neck to confirm he was unconscious, he then knelt on one knee before the couch and said, “Your servant is late, my lord. Please forgive me.”
