As soon as the words were spoken, only the chirping of insects remained in the courtyard.
Jiu Yue looked at him strangely. "Why aren’t you saying anything?"
Prince Ping, however, seemed lost in thought.
He reached out to touch her face, but Jiu Yue tilted her head away. The next second, without warning, he stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace.
His murmur drifted from above her head: "If only you had spoken your mind back then, maybe we wouldn’t have…"
Jiu Yue stiffened completely.
Damn it!
This bastard! How dare he take advantage of her?!
She had thought she might hear something useful from Prince Ping, but after enduring his silence for so long, he never finished his sentence.
Clenching her fists, Jiu Yue forced herself to ask, "Wouldn’t have what?"
Prince Ping merely smiled, as if relieved. "Nothing. It’s all in the past now."
Jiu Yue: "…"
Damn it! He’s messing with me?!
Expressionless, she raised her hand and punched him square in the jaw. Prince Ping staggered back, his head snapping upward as a tooth went flying.
"Your Highness!" Mei Wuchang rushed over in horror.
Jiu Yue rolled her eyes internally before turning back to Prince Ping, who was staring at her in disbelief. She lowered her gaze, feigning distress.
"Your Highness, are you alright?" Jiu Yue sniffled, her voice trembling with faux remorse. "I—I didn’t mean to, Your Highness. It’s just… after what happened at the cliff, I almost… sob… Forgive me, Your Highness. Punish me if you must."
Prince Ping wiped the blood from his mouth, his initial anger fading as her words sank in. His expression shifted.
"What happened?" he pressed urgently.
Between sobs, Jiu Yue replied, "My leg was still injured, and those men tried to… to violate me… But at the last moment, I managed to grab this."
She opened her palm, revealing a token.
On it was a large, bold character: "Ping." The bloodstains on it had long dried.
Jiu Yue wiped the corner of her eye, her gaze watery as she looked up at Prince Ping with a fragile smile. "Thankfully, I kept it with me."
Prince Ping’s heart clenched.
That token—he had crafted it for her himself. One of a kind.
To think she had carried it all this time…
"Ah Yue." Overcome with guilt, he moved to embrace her again but hesitated, remembering his bloodied state. Instead, he settled for grasping her hand.
"I was too late. I let you suffer." He led her outside, his voice firm. "From now on, I swear to treat you with all my heart. If I ever betray you, may I die a wretched death!"
Jiu Yue was too busy fake-sobbing to respond.
Luckily, Prince Ping’s missing tooth made speaking difficult, so he soon fell silent.
She kept up the act until they reached the chamber. Once the door closed, her tears vanished. She sat at the table, her expression unreadable.
The token lay before her.
Jiu Yue studied the dried blood, her mind racing.
So, this token wasn’t from the assassins—it belonged to the original owner of this body. No wonder she’d only found one after searching so many corpses.
Then again, who sends assassins while carrying identifying tokens? That’d be like begging to get caught.
She shook her head, knocking her temple lightly. Almost missed that.
Prince Ping’s reaction tonight confirmed it—the original owner and he had shared something.
Especially the way he called her "Ah Yue."
Ah Yue my ass.
He never acted this clingy when the original owner was around. Late affection is cheaper than weeds!
Jiu Yue rubbed her arms, disgusted.
Tonight’s performance had been a sacrifice.
But no new memories of Prince Ping surfaced.
She sighed in disappointment.
The physician left the bedchamber. Prince Ping’s bleeding had stopped, though his shattered tooth was beyond repair.
He stared at the tooth on the table, chuckling softly.
Mei Wuchang, standing nearby, ventured, "What amuses Your Highness?"
"I had my doubts—whether someone was impersonating Ah Yue after her drastic change in temperament." Prince Ping spoke slowly. "But now, I think this might be her true nature. She never spoke her mind to me before."
Mei Wuchang recalled how Jiu Yue had nearly beaten him to death upon their first meeting: "…"
He’d never doubted her identity.
Her skills were unmatched—he’d only ever met one like her.
In fact, the reason he served Prince Ping was because Jiu Yue had beaten him into submission.
But Prince Ping’s next words gave him pause.
"Your Highness once said Jiu Yue’s thoughts were too presumptuous," Mei Wuchang said carefully. "Now that she’s lost her memories, isn’t this the perfect chance to distance yourself?"
Prince Ping stilled. His gaze sharpened as he turned to Mei Wuchang, his demeanor darkening.
"Are you instructing me?" His tone was deceptively light.
Mei Wuchang paled and dropped to his knees. "This subordinate overstepped."
Prince Ping smirked, his usual gentleness replaced by naked ambition.
"This is the opportunity Ah Yue has given me—a sign from the heavens." His eyes burned with fervor as he watched the candle flame. "Everything I desire will be mine."
Whether it was Ah Yue.
Or the throne.
He would claim them all.
A gray pigeon alighted on the windowsill, wings fluttering. Mei Wuchang rose silently, retrieved the note from its leg, and handed it to Prince Ping.
The message was brief: [The Emperor and Consort Xue had a fierce quarrel.]
Prince Ping’s lips curled. He held the note to the candle, watching it blacken and crumble.
"Yingxue defends me so fiercely. How could I waste her loyalty?" He stood, pleased. "Prepare my carriage. I’ll visit the palace tomorrow."
That foolish daughter of his had finally proven useful.
Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Keep this from Ah Yue. No need to unsettle her."
Mei Wuchang hesitated but bowed in assent.
This undercover mission was far duller than she’d expected.
Jiu Yue sprawled on the rooftop, shaded by the canopy of a tree. Dappled sunlight flickered through the leaves as a breeze swept by, tempering the heat.
Prince Ping had been leaving her behind for days. Today, she’d finally insisted on accompanying him—only for him to claim his palace visit forbade bringing anyone.
Jiu Yue: "…"
As if she believed that.
Please. Like I actually wanted to go. And damn, he was so full of himself.
Grumbling, she stayed behind at Prince Ping’s Mansion, picking fights with hidden guards to pass the time—and subtly tallying their numbers.
But no one lasted as long in a fight as Mei Wuchang.
Speaking of Mei Wuchang… Well, he was currently sprawled on the ground like a dead dog.
He groaned, rolling over to confirm Jiu Yue hadn’t vanished. Relieved, he exhaled shakily.
Internally, Mei Wuchang was weeping rivers.
I’d rather be on a mission than babysit her!
But life went on. Once he caught his breath, he dragged himself over to lie beside her.
Jiu Yue’s eyes gleamed with sudden inspiration. "It’s hot. Let’s go drink tea at the teahouse."
Mei Wuchang was quite enthusiastic. "Let's go, let's go."
As long as it wasn’t to play with the mute girl or to pick a fight with him, even if Jiu Yue said she was going out to kill someone, he’d grab his blade and support her without hesitation!
His response was so immediate that it made Jiu Yue feel a little embarrassed.
"What’s wrong?" Mei Wuchang noticed her gaze.
Jiu Yue shook her head. "Nothing, just thought you’re surprisingly nice. My treat later!"
As for the teahouse, it was naturally the one where Nan Xun performed storytelling.
Jiu Yue led Mei Wuchang inside, and the moment they entered, they spotted Nan Xun in the middle of the crowd, gesturing wildly and completely immersed in his tale.
Then their eyes met.
Jiu Yue raised a brow and was the first to look away.
Mei Wuchang had been here before, of course. He guided Jiu Yue straight to the second floor, where they leaned against the railing, easily overlooking the scene below.
Jiu Yue stayed in character, glancing around with feigned interest.
Mei Wuchang explained, "This storyteller has quite the silver tongue—everyone loves his performances…"
Before he could finish, the storyteller below erupted into a violent coughing fit, pounding his chest as if trying to break it.
Mei Wuchang: "…"
After a pause, he offered uncertainly, "Must be… part of the act?"
Jiu Yue glanced at Nan Xun, who was choking on his own spit, and grinned. "Well, that’s… vividly realistic, huh."
Downstairs, Nan Xun had fallen into stunned silence.
Just how much audacity did this woman have???
