After being threatened by Xue'er, that poisonous plastic flower, Ye Ting finally gained a clear understanding of her identity and predicament.
Over the past couple of days, she had rummaged through her belongings and subtly questioned those around her about her past, piecing together a rough idea of what had happened to the original owner of this body before she transmigrated into it.
Her name was Pingting, and everyone addressed her as "Miss Pingting." Like the others sent to the Crown Prince's residence, she was nothing particularly special—just a notch above a servant girl in status. The only thing that set her apart was her face. It was so strikingly beautiful that she stood out like a crane among chickens amidst the group of young women.
Naturally, she was chosen without hesitation to serve His Highness the Crown Prince.
Once the plan succeeded, she intended to employ her charms, seizing this rare opportunity to poison the Crown Prince. But whether due to haste or sheer misfortune, the Crown Prince remained unharmed while the culprit herself ended up dead in the firewood shed.
This was why Ye Ting woke up in agonizing pain, lying there like a corpse when she first arrived.
One digs the pit, another fills it in.
Ye Ting crouched in front of the bronze stove, sighing repeatedly with a look of melancholy.
Now, poisoning the Crown Prince was out of the question. Even if she could rely on teammates she didn’t even recognize now—assuming they could actually rescue her afterward—she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not to mention, she now shared some inexplicable connection with His Highness.
Rebellion was impossible, and murder was off the table. As for the threats against her, she could always play dumb and drag things out indefinitely…
But the most troublesome issue now was that she had no idea what leverage the other party held over her.
Not daring to make any drastic moves, Ye Ting waited quietly for two days, turning things over in her mind before finally deciding to seek out Xue'er again.
Before she could step out that day, someone stopped her.
Chunya walked in cheerfully from outside, beaming. "Were you heading out? What perfect timing! His Highness has invited you to Luoyun Pavilion to enjoy wine and the scenery."
Though the Crown Prince hadn’t stayed in the Eastern Warm Pavilion these past few days and had seemingly ignored her, he hadn’t forgotten his new favorite. Now that His Highness had recovered from his illness, he was summoning her—proof that she truly occupied his thoughts.
Ye Ting hadn’t expected the Crown Prince to seek her out at this moment. She forced a stiff smile. "Ah. What a coincidence."
Chunya led the way with a smile.
Ye Ting followed her to Luoyun Pavilion, taking a few deep breaths along the way to steady herself. She was a little nervous, after all—she hadn’t yet had a proper conversation with His Highness.
But now that she understood the whole story, she had thoroughly reformed and would never oppose this ancestor of a man again. No need to panic. She could handle this.
Luoyun Pavilion was located in the rear courtyard, and they arrived shortly.
The courtyard was strewn with fallen red maple leaves, left untended, forming a fiery crimson carpet that exuded a unique charm. Ye Ting’s gaze landed on the figure seated in the pavilion—a man draped in a snow-white fox-fur cloak, elegantly poised at the stone table, dressed in luxurious robes.
Even in silence, he commanded attention.
Over the past two days, Ye Ting had done some discreet research, quietly gathering information about the Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince’s name was Xiao Zhiheng, the legitimate son of the late empress, born into unparalleled nobility. From birth, he was the heir apparent, a golden child cradled in privilege, holding the script of destiny’s chosen one. But those who start life too smoothly often face a turbulent fate. The young Crown Prince had suffered from illness since childhood, and despite being meticulously raised, his frail constitution could never withstand the rigors of ruling.
His fate as a sickly invalid destined him to be nothing more than an exquisite casualty, drowning in a sea of flowers and luxury.
Ye Ting gazed at the man enjoying the scenery in the pavilion with a pang of sorrow.
Though His Highness’s health was poor, at least he had never known hardship—he was a pampered, delicate beauty who knew how to savor life. She mentally patted herself on the back for the forced flattery.
Chunya whispered, "Your Highness, Miss Pingting has arrived."
The Crown Prince seemed lost in thought. He withdrew his gaze from the withered maple tree and said, "Mm. You may leave."
Once Chunya was gone, only Ye Ting remained.
Her sorrow deepened.
If the real Pingting were standing here now, she’d probably be plotting something untoward—after all, the timing and setting were perfect. Why was His Highness so lacking in caution? It was truly worrisome.
What would become of him in the future?
Naturally, Xiao Zhiheng had no idea what Ye Ting was fretting over. Noticing her prolonged silence, he studied her from head to toe with a detached gaze.
Her face was the same as before.
No difference there.
But she had acted strangely at the hot springs…
Having observed enough, Xiao Zhiheng curved his lips into a smile. He suddenly extended a hand toward Ye Ting and asked softly, "Won’t you come closer?"
His hand was exquisitely shaped—long, slender fingers with distinct knuckles, skin pale as snow yet cold as unyielding ice, devoid of warmth.
When Ye Ting actually touched his hand, she realized she had overthought things. Her own hand was even colder than his.
Xiao Zhiheng noticed this too. Despite being bundled up, Ye Ting’s hands were icy. He raised a brow slightly. "Are you cold?"
There was no denying it. She nodded, then, inexplicably moved by his sickly pallor, blurted out, "Your Highness’s hands are cold too. You shouldn’t stay in the wind."
Xiao Zhiheng paused.
Ye Ting quickly corrected herself, "Ah, no—I meant the wind here is strong. Your Highness has just recovered from illness, so you should take care not to catch another chill."
You really are as fragile as a leaf in the wind.
Xiao Zhiheng chuckled lightly, but the laughter triggered a cough from deep in his chest. He cleared his throat and said indifferently, "No matter. Autumn’s beauty is fleeting. Who knows if I’ll be here to see it next year? Best to take it in while I can."
His tone was casual, as if discussing the weather, but the stark contrast between his words and their morbid implication was downright chilling.
Ye Ting was stunned by his sudden "prophecy."
She reacted as if her tail had been stepped on. "How could that be? Your Highness is heaven’s favored son, blessed with boundless fortune. You’ll live a long, prosperous life—these leaves and stones will be here for you to admire every year."
What did he mean, he might not be around next year? This Crown Prince was destined to outlive a millennium-old tortoise.
Xiao Zhiheng lifted his eyes, slowly regarding her before asking idly, "Is that so?"
Ye Ting: "Absolutely."
"Are those your true feelings?"
"From the heart."
At the words "from the heart," Xiao Zhiheng’s eyes curved slightly, as if pleasantly surprised. He smiled and said, "I never imagined you felt this way. You truly are different from the others. How delightful."
The Crown Prince was a delicate beauty who had suffered from illness since childhood. The aura of sickness clinging to him seemed almost tangible, carrying an inexplicable sharpness. The faint smile on his lips was breathtakingly beautiful.
Yet this seemingly harmless, fragile man abruptly shifted the conversation, his voice soft as he uttered a lethal question:
"But that only makes me more curious. If you truly feel this way—then why did you try to poison my wine that day?"
Why did you poison me?
Why poison?
Poison—
The word "poison" exploded in Ye Ting’s mind, reducing her thoughts to ashes. Her mind went blank.
So… the Crown Prince knew what the original owner had done? He knew about the poisoning attempt?!
Ye Ting's breathing grew labored, her legs unsteady beneath her.
She had let her guard down too soon. She had assumed the Crown Prince's indifference toward her meant he was unaware of the schemes his former self had orchestrated—that he had simply cast her aside and moved on.
But she had been naive. The Crown Prince already knew she had poisoned him. The only reason he hadn’t dealt with her yet was because he hadn’t had the time…
No wonder he had insisted she come today to admire fallen leaves and share wine. The truth was far darker—he meant to send her away.
With poisoned wine.
Ye Ting’s gaze flickered to the steaming wine pot on the stone table. Her legs gave out, and she dropped to her knees.
Desperation laced her voice as she pleaded, “Your Highness, please let me explain! This servant’s heart has always been devoted to you, loyal beyond doubt—heaven and earth bear witness! I would never dare harm you. There must be some misunderstanding!”
Xiao Zhiheng’s smile didn’t waver. His tone remained gentle as he replied, “Hmm. Go on.”
His seemingly boundless patience only made Ye Ting more frantic.
Her survival instincts kicked in, and her mind raced. If the Crown Prince hadn’t killed her outright, if he was willing to listen, then there was still a chance to “explain.”
And if she could explain, then she could twist the misunderstanding into the least damning version—one that favored her the most.
Gritting her teeth, she spun her tale: “This servant is guilty, deserving of death. But I truly didn’t know what it was! When someone gave it to me, they claimed it would win me Your Highness’s favor. I was foolish, blinded by greed, and dared to use it. I swear, Your Highness, I had no idea what it truly was.”
The last trace of the deadly poison had long been burned to ashes. With no evidence left, the nature of the “poison” could be flexible—a love potion was still poison, after all. A moment of delusion was far better than attempted murder.
Besides, wasn’t the Crown Prince perfectly fine now?
As long as she admitted to administering something while insisting she hadn’t known the truth, the blame could still be shifted.
Her carefully crafted persona as a seductive but empty-headed beauty only made her excuse more plausible—too plausible, even.
Cleverly, she had also left a deliberate gap in her story. By mentioning that “someone” had given her the poison, she implied there was a mastermind behind it.
If the Crown Prince pressed further, she could smoothly throw Xue’er—the most venomous hidden snake among them—under the carriage. A deeper investigation would give her room to prove her loyalty anew, to defect from the shadows…
So, ask me, Your Highness! Go on, ask! I’ll spill everything I know.
Xiao Zhiheng gave no indication of whether he believed her. His hands moved steadily as he poured a cup of steaming wine. Following her lead, he asked leisurely, “Oh? Who gave it to you?”
The sound of wine being poured sent chills down Ye Ting’s spine.
The taste of impending death? Exhilarating, if you asked her.
Just as she was about to speak, a guard rushed in, his expression urgent.
“Your Highness, forgive the intrusion. This subordinate has urgent news.” The guard hesitated, his gaze flickering toward Ye Ting.
Xiao Zhiheng didn’t seem bothered. “Speak,” he said calmly.
The guard reported, “This subordinate was tasked with investigating the assassination attempt by the hot spring maid. The trail led to Chen Gui, Fenying, and Xue’er. Before interrogation could begin, all three took poison and died by their own hands—fear of punishment.”
Ye Ting’s head snapped up at the mention of Xue’er’s death.
Who did you say died?!
Xiao Zhiheng listened, his eyes lowering briefly to his hands. His expression remained unreadable as he replied indifferently, “Then bury them. Anything else?”
The guard faltered, unsure what his master meant.
Was he asking if there were loose ends left untied—or if there were more conspirators? His eyes inevitably drifted back to Ye Ting.
Ye Ting: “…”
Big guy, seriously, enough.
The guard hesitated, but Xiao Zhiheng seemed to lose interest. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed him. “Leave.”
Once alone again, the two returned to their previous standoff.
Xiao Zhiheng adjusted his robes, his smile unchanged. “You were saying? Who gave it to you? Continue.”
Ye Ting: “…”
Continue my ass.
