The aftermath of a hangover was a splitting headache, and for the first time in her life, Ye Ting had blacked out from drinking. Her head felt like it was about to explode.
She had no memory of what happened after she collapsed, nor of the events of the previous night.
How had she gotten back?
Wait, that jug of wine hadn’t been poisoned after all…
And more importantly, could someone please explain why the damned Crown Prince was lying asleep beside her?
Ye Ting lay stiffly on the bed, utterly bewildered.
Just then, the familiar blood-level screen appeared before her eyes again, and what she saw was downright bizarre. It had actually advanced, which meant she had successfully survived and even gained a bit more health.
But why?
Had her desperate gamble—drinking the wine as if it were poison, betting her life on a reckless move—somehow fooled the Crown Prince into trusting her?
That seemed to be the case at the moment.
But was that even possible?
Ye Ting couldn’t quite believe it.
Hesitantly, she turned her gaze to the face of the man beside her, searching for any clues. But the moment she looked at him, she couldn’t help but recall the disturbingly twisted inner monologue she had heard from him before…
No, her head hurt even more now.
This Crown Prince lying next to her was nothing like the gentle, kind-hearted, indecisive sickly man others believed him to be.
No, not just "not quite the same."
He was the complete opposite of his rumored persona!
Ye Ting couldn’t understand why everyone unanimously believed the frail Crown Prince was a refined, jade-like gentleman. In reality, he could smile with tender compassion while slaughtering people without batting an eye.
She forced herself to keep looking at him, her expression complicated. What now? She had survived again—should she keep going?
First, her situation hadn’t changed. Apart from her own death, she had no way out. If the Crown Prince died, she wouldn’t live either. The target of her mission couldn’t be changed. If she wanted to survive in this world, she had to keep going.
Second, the wine hadn’t been poisoned. Though the Crown Prince’s inner thoughts were terrifying, maybe he hadn’t actually intended to kill her. This might have been a test—an opportunity for her.
Ultimately, the original owner of this body had once harmed the Crown Prince, so Ye Ting couldn’t help but feel guilty and overthink things, scaring herself half to death. But now, not only had she survived, she was even more secure than before. That meant there was still a way out.
With this realization, Ye Ting, now fully sober, suddenly saw a glimmer of hope. She felt like she could do this again.
She shifted slightly, only to realize someone had wrapped her tightly in the quilt like a cocoon.
The moment she moved, the sleeping Crown Prince abruptly opened his eyes, waking up.
When Xiao Zhiheng awoke, his pupils were streaked with red, as if he had suffered through an illness even in his dreams. His face was pale, and his slightly unfocused gaze seemed hollow, almost dazed.
But that lasted only a moment.
He closed his eyes briefly, then reopened them, slowly turning to look at Ye Ting, who was half-sprawled on top of him. After a brief silence, he spoke, his voice low and rough with sleep.
"What are you doing now?"
The word "now" stabbed at Ye Ting’s conscience, making her awkward. She quietly wriggled back into place. "Nothing. Just trying to get up. My arm’s numb."
The Crown Prince remained silent for a few seconds before slowly sitting up himself, then casually "releasing" Ye Ting from her stiff cocoon.
Xiao Zhiheng was always at his weakest when he first woke up, his complexion sickly pale. No one could tell what dark, violent thoughts lurked beneath, but outwardly, he looked utterly fragile.
With his long hair draped over his shoulders, he closed his eyes to regulate his breathing, saying nothing.
Soon, however, he noticed Ye Ting’s conflicted gaze fixed on him. He turned to her. "What is it?"
At this moment, the Crown Prince’s smile was as elegant as ever, his tone as gentle as always.
The silent—or not-so-silent—death threats he had issued at Luoyun Pavilion the day before seemed like nothing more than a hallucination.
Ye Ting, dazed by his smile, couldn’t help but murmur, "Your Highness… do you trust me now?"
Xiao Zhiheng’s fingers paused briefly. He coughed lightly, then nodded with effortless composure. "Mm. I found your reasoning quite persuasive."
All the words Ye Ting had carefully prepared were instantly rendered useless by his casual remark.
Persuasive? Are you serious?
If this had happened before she heard those inner voices yesterday, the naive Ye Ting would have believed the Crown Prince’s nonsense without question.
But now, she didn’t dare be so blindly confident.
Because she had stumbled upon something straight out of a horror story lurking beneath this refined, elegant Crown Prince.
Xiao Zhiheng raised a brow slightly, smiling at her. "Wasn’t it you who begged on your knees, crying and making a scene, pleading for my trust? Now that I’ve granted it, why do you look like that?"
"...I’m overjoyed."
Xiao Zhiheng didn’t respond, merely reclining lazily against the pillows, watching her with an amused smirk.
Ye Ting had no choice but to force out a hollow, emotionless smile. Oh, I’m absolutely thrilled.
Apparently satisfied at last, Xiao Zhiheng finally let his smile fade. His complexion had improved slightly, and he called for his attendants.
A short while later, in the front hall—
Lin De wore a relieved smile. "Ah, Your Highness looks much better today! This old servant will have another brazier added to the eastern warming pavilion—" He paused mid-sentence, then asked cheerfully, "Is Your Highness in a good mood today?"
The Crown Prince’s moods were notoriously difficult to read, but Lin De had served him for many years. He could usually discern whether his master was pleased or displeased.
Xiao Zhiheng shook his head, his tone so calm it was almost indifferent. "Not particularly. Where’s my medicine?"
Lin De: "It’s being warmed. Your Highness should eat first before taking it."
Then, his face clouded with worry. Hesitantly, he added, "Your Highness has been taking this medicine more and more frequently lately. All medicine carries some toxicity, and if Your Highness doesn’t take care, this servant fears—"
Xiao Zhiheng chuckled softly. "Fear what? It’s not as if I’m beyond cure. But the way you wear that mournful face every day, one would think I’m on my deathbed."
Lin De’s expression changed drastically, and he dropped to his knees. "This servant wouldn’t dare!"
Seeing the old steward on the verge of tearful lamentations, Xiao Zhiheng remarked coolly, "There you go, mourning me in advance."
Chief Steward Lin: "..."
His aged face flushed dark red.
Now he was certain—His Highness really was in a good mood. Because that sadistic habit of his, tormenting people with a smile, had resurfaced after years of absence.
Ye Ting, unaware of the drama unfolding elsewhere, emerged after being fussed over by a crowd of attendants who had dressed her and done her hair and makeup. By then, the Crown Prince was already dining with refined elegance.
Lin De stood nearby, his usual long-suffering expression even more despondent than usual today.
Xiao Zhiheng glanced up, his eyes slowly sweeping over Ye Ting from head to toe. Though his gaze was gentle, there was an inexplicable sense of something predatory lurking beneath.
The Crown Prince smiled and praised, "Lovely. Come here."
Under the burning stares of everyone in the room, Ye Ting numbly took a seat beside him, feeling like some newly favored concubine who had risen overnight.
"What would you like to eat?"
"Anything is fine. This servant isn’t picky."
Then the Crown Prince, disregarding all decorum, personally served her dishes, filling her bowl to the brim, doting on her beyond measure.
Ye Ting's stomach was empty. After a whole night of torment, she had long since thrown up everything there was to throw up, and she was genuinely starving. Faced with this lavish spread of delicacies, she was so moved she nearly cried.
But soon, those tears of gratitude froze in her eyes.
Just as she was about to dig in, she stared at her bowl—filled with things like swallow's nest soup and fish pearl—and abruptly paused, her chopsticks hovering mid-air.
Xiao Zhiheng asked, "What's wrong?"
She lifted her head with a pained expression, reluctantly pushing the bowl forward as she forced out a blatant lie through gritted teeth, "This servant... abstains from meat."
Damn it, she’d almost forgotten the nonsense she’d spouted about being a Buddhist.
How was she supposed to eat any of this now?
Xiao Zhiheng covered his lips with a fist, coughing lightly. His face was pale as he said, "Ah. I’d forgotten."
Ye Ting’s expression finally matched Steward Lin’s in sheer gloom.
Forgotten my ass.
You did this on purpose! Don’t think I don’t know.
Xiao Zhiheng gently pushed the bowl back toward her, utterly unperturbed as he remarked, "You’ve already drunk wine. What’s a little meat? ‘Wine and meat pass through the gut, but the Buddha stays in the heart.’ He won’t hold it against you."
Ye Ting: "..."
She strongly suspected the Crown Prince was getting back at her.
But she had no proof.
Lin De kept his eyes down, observing nothing and saying nothing, just like everyone else in the room—though he spared an extra sliver of attention to gauge His Highness’s mood.
He thought to himself, His Highness must be in an obscenely good mood today.
What should have been a perfectly good meal turned tasteless for Ye Ting under the serene, smiling gaze of the sickly yet devastatingly beautiful Crown Prince.
Right now, she really, really wanted to know—what exactly went through his mind every time he treated others with such effortless grace?
But strangely, for the entire day, she hadn’t caught a single whisper of his thoughts, no matter how hard she concentrated.
She was puzzled.
And couldn’t help but wonder—had that incident before just been a fluke?
Xiao Zhiheng, likely due to his illness, had little appetite and ate sparingly. Ye Ting subtly noted that while he moved his chopsticks frequently, the actual amount of food he consumed amounted to barely a few bites.
But when it came time for medicine, he downed an enormous bowl without batting an eye—not to mention the assortment of pills from various bottles and jars.
The Crown Prince’s severe, life-threatening illness was no joke.
He took more medicine than meals.
Ye Ting sighed inwardly. Since she wasn’t enjoying the food anyway, she might as well set down her chopsticks.
"Full?"
She nodded.
Xiao Zhiheng gave a faint "Mm," then instructed Lin De, "Prepare the carriage."
"Yes, Your Highness."
At first, Ye Ting paid no mind, assuming it had nothing to do with her—until the Crown Prince decided to bundle her along.
Xiao Zhiheng said, "Let’s go."
Ye Ting blinked. "Go?"
Xiao Zhiheng: "Mm. To the palace."
Ye Ting’s head swarmed with question marks.
It wasn’t until she was seated in the carriage, well on their way to the imperial palace, that she finally pieced together why Xiao Zhiheng had complimented her looks earlier.
It was to dress her up for this royal visit.
Still, she asked, "Your Highness, why are you taking me to the palace?"
Xiao Zhiheng had closed his eyes to rest the moment they boarded the carriage. The aftereffects of his medicine were kicking in—his usually pale lips were gradually gaining color, his complexion seemingly improved, though in truth, it was anything but.
As composed as ever, as if unaffected, he cracked an eye open to glance at her and countered lightly, "What do you think?"
Ye Ting sighed helplessly. "This servant can’t guess."
Xiao Zhiheng smiled. With endless patience, he drawled, "Have you forgotten who sent you to my side?"
Ye Ting’s eyelids twitched violently.
He grinned. "I’m going to thank them."
"..."
No, you’re not.
You’re going to raise hell.
