Chapter 59: Departure

The kiss, on the verge of parting, felt like sketching something fragile, carrying the meaning of cherished affection. Yu Lingxi remained motionless.

The low, deep utterance of “darling” made her breath catch in her chest, swelling with aching intensity. In her previous life, she had no family, and no one had ever uttered sweet words to her. Living alone, she died alone.

In this life, her family was intact, and friends surrounded her. Some were willing to protect her at the cost of their lives, yet she still felt this unbearable pain.

Throughout the day, Yu Lingxi wanted to ask Ning Yin several times, “Have you ever thought about living a less difficult life?” She didn’t ask because she knew Ning Yin had never thought about it, truly never.

He placed his life at the end, determined to hold on to something even if it meant facing death.

Even though he knew that as long as the Yu family complied with the emperor’s marriage order and he kept a distance from Yu Lingxi, they could avoid many troubles.

Sensing her distraction, Ning Yin lifted his hand from the water and slightly extended his arm, saying, “Come here.”

He was always more action-oriented than verbal.

Following his words, Yu Lingxi sat on the couch, took a clean cloth, pulled down Ning Yin’s arm, and bandaged his wounded palm. The candlelight in the gauze cover quietly flickered, and they tacitly avoided mentioning what had just happened.

“The night is late, but the bed hasn’t warmed up yet.”

After a while, Ning Yin casually hinted.

Following his gaze, Yu Lingxi looked at the wide couch behind her that could accommodate two or three people and then looked back.

Suppressing the soreness in her nose, she softly said, “During the bath, remember not to wet the wound.”

Ning Yin, with a white cloth tied around his hand, placed it on his knee and leaned closer, “I have a bad memory, unless my precious servant personally takes care and supervises.”

Yu Lingxi glared at him with gleaming eyes, finally kicked off her embroidered shoes, wore only plain white silk socks, and lay on the innermost side of the bed, turning her back to Ning Yin.

She was afraid he would see the emotions about to burst in her eyes.

The August night still retained its lingering heat. The mat for cooling was still in place. Did the bed really need to be warmed by a person?

It was just an excuse to coax her into sleep. Yu Lingxi, understanding his intention, chose to indulge him. She did not expose Ning Yin’s little trick and obediently closed her eyelashes slowly.

Ning Yin watched over her sleeping face and sat at the edge of the bed for a long time.

His darling was timid by nature; he shouldn’t let filthy blood stain her eyes. Ning Yin casually pointed his index finger, gazing down at her with tender affection. As her breath gradually became long and steady, Ning Yin leaned over, lifted the hanging painting at the head of the bed, and lightly pressed it.

With a soft click of the mechanism, the wall rotated, revealing a small, prepared secret chamber.

The gentle bed slid into the secret room, and then the wall closed, leaving no trace.

Ning Yin pulled a chair and sat down, his dark, cold eyes looking out the window where the night was deepening, as if waiting for something. He leisurely brewed a pot of tea for himself.

The galloping carriage stopped in front of a dilapidated temple on the outskirts, where someone was already waiting.

Zhaji lifted the curtain, and two men inside the carriage, bare-chested with bandages around their chests, clasped their fists in salute. Zhaji tossed two bundles to them and said in a low voice, “Inside are your new identities and waist badges. The route is also provided. Be cautious in your actions.”

The two men nodded, swiftly changed into the military uniforms of the capital garrison from the carriage, and then merged into the crowd waiting for them.

Zhaji watched them leave, then loosened the reins of the horse, took out a prepared jug of wine from the carriage, poured it on the carriage, and lit a fire. As the flames surged, Zhaji pushed the burning carriage into a deep ditch at the foot of Yanwang Mountain, erasing all traces.

Holding the reins, he stood in the dark blue mist of the late night, his gaze directed towards the direction of the capital, tall and silent.

The long night would come to an end, but the bloody storms would not cease; everything was just beginning.

…

Yu Lingxi was too worried about Ning Yin’s situation, sleeping very lightly. Therefore, when Ning Yin activated the mechanism to hide her in the secret chamber, she woke up.

She disguised it well, not letting Ning Yin notice. Only when the walls of the secret chamber closed again, and the surroundings fell silent, did she dare to open her eyes in the ambiguous dim light.

After a long period of silence, she overcame her fear of the secret chamber and forced herself not to fall asleep. Then, a very light buzzing sound broke the quiet, as if something had been pinned to the wall connecting the secret chamber and the main room.

Yu Lingxi perked up her ears, and soon, she heard the sounds of a struggle.

She quietly sat up, looking towards the direction of the wall. The faint crackling sounds made her heart pound.

What was Ning Yin doing?

What was he facing alone?

After the initial panic, Yu Lingxi quickly understood what was happening.

If someone wanted to clip Ning Yin’s wings, remove his claws, simply forcing him to kill two trusted subordinates wouldn’t be enough. Those people would surely come back, testing if Ning Yin truly had no more protectors.

And the best way to test it was an unexpected assassination.

Ning Yin could only endure, endure until the other party completely dispelled their doubts…

The helplessness and heartache in the darkness surged like a tide. Yu Lingxi’s fingertips turned cold as she bit her lip, afraid to make any sound. After an unknown amount of time, the vague sounds outside stopped, but the wall of the secret chamber did not open again.

A disturbing silence enveloped the outside.

Yu Lingxi sat for a while, growing increasingly anxious. She cautiously stepped barefoot off the couch, walked to the wall, and felt the two ventilated small holes behind the bookshelf at the far end.

Pressing her face against the wall, she looked outside through the small holes. Inside the room was a mess, with several arrows scattered on the ground. A large patch of crimson soaked Ning Yin’s back, and at the center of the spreading blood, a cold blade tip emerged.

A dagger as thin as autumn water had pierced through his left shoulder, descending an inch further towards the position of his heart and lungs.

Yu Lingxi’s heart felt as if it had been stabbed, oozing blood.

She finally understood why Ning Yin had so many faint old wounds from the previous life. Just picking one at random could take away more than half of an ordinary person’s life.

Outside, Ning Yin gripped the dagger with one hand, and Yu Lingxi watched helplessly as the blade disappeared from his body, pulled out, accompanied by a spurt of blood that splattered on the ground like a vivid blood plum.

Ning Yin didn’t even groan. Numb and familiar, he bit on a bandage and dressed the wound.

He kicked the soiled clothes into a corner, then walked behind the screen with his cold and vigorous figure, changing into a new garment.

When he turned around, Yu Lingxi saw his face—cold, pale, without a trace of blood.

She choked in her throat, quickly bit her lip, and suppressed the trembling breath.

Yu Lingxi couldn’t even go out to hug Ning Yin, let alone tend to his wounds. She didn’t know what other dangers were lurking around him, watching closely. The only thing she could do was hide in this confined space and not cause him any trouble.

Ning Yin’s path was too perilous and difficult; having an extra burden beside him meant an additional danger. If discovered again, the consequences of his relationship with General Yu’s daughter would be unimaginable.

Yu Lingxi dared not think about it.

Warm light poured through the small hole, casting onto her moist red eyes. She raised her hand and felt the damp traces on her fingertips. Outside, Ning Yin probably went through a simple wash-up, entering the room with a damp body.

Water dripped from his hair, emphasizing his handsome and cold features, pale like no ordinary person.

He opened the window, threw a piece of incense into the furnace, and a milky wisp of smoke wafted gently, covering the room’s bloody scent. Then he opened the low cabinet drawer beside the bed, took out felt, wax, and other items, sat by the incense burner, and meticulously polished some precious object.

The range visible through the hole was too small for Yu Lingxi to see exactly what he was holding. She could only speculate that it must be something extremely valuable.

Ning Yin’s movements were so gentle and meticulous, his pale profile almost devout.

Only when the incense in the burner gradually dissipated, and the smell of blood also faded, did he satisfactorily put away the finely carved and shiny object in his hand. He stood up and walked towards the secret chamber.

Yu Lingxi quickly wiped her moist red eyes and lay back on the couch. Almost simultaneously, the secret chamber door was twisted open, and light poured in, casting a tall shadow gently over the beauty lying on the couch.

The door closed again, and Ning Yin lay down, carefully encircling Yu Lingxi’s waist. He held her with the same assertive posture as in the previous life, encompassing her entirely in his embrace.

Yu Lingxi’s thinly-clad back pressed against Ning Yin’s chest, causing her entire body to tremble. Tears trickled down her closed eyelashes, wetting her hair.

Ning Yin’s body was so cold, too cold, almost devoid of the warmth of a living person. Yu Lingxi recalled the shivering sound of his legs trembling when his old ailment recurred in the previous life, freezing her heart with pain.

Ning Yin was probably seriously injured and exhausted, not noticing the momentary stiffness in Yu Lingxi’s body.

“I seem to understand a bit of what Miss said about ‘even if we die, we want to continue being together,’” he said, his cool breath brushing against her ear, mentioning the argument on the night of his elder brother’s wedding. “Look, we lie here, resembling a couple in a tomb, don’t we?”

Then he quickly denied himself, laughing lightly, “Miss won’t die.”

After a moment, he closed his eyes, and his nose brushed against Yu Lingxi’s soft hair. His voice lowered even more, “Rest, Sui Sui.”

Yu Lingxi couldn’t sleep, so she opened her eyes. When she felt the breath in her ears settle, she slowly, bit by bit, turned around— a movement Ning Yin had performed many times when lying down to accompany her during the leg ailment in the previous life. It was so familiar that it was done lightly and steadily. However, at that time, she was frightened, and now, it only brought a piercing ache.

“I don’t want to die with you; I want to live with you,” Yu Lingxi whispered in her heart, “Live in endless glory.”

In the darkness, unable to see Ning Yin’s silhouette clearly, Yu Lingxi arched her back, using her own body temperature to warm him. She had no idea how many more times Ning Yin would be oppressed, how many more wounds he would endure before that fateful day arrived.

If she hadn’t woken up from shallow sleep tonight, Ning Yin probably would never have let her know about these life-threatening dangers.

Even in death, she would have remained oblivious.

All this time, Yu Lingxi had been thinking about what Ning Yin could do for the Yu family, but she rarely considered what she could do for Ning Yin.

She once harbored a sense of optimism, hoping for a win-win solution where she wouldn’t have to part with either Ning Yin or her family. However, she knew it was nothing more than drinking poison to quench her thirst.

Avoiding the ease brought by escaping an arranged marriage only meant transferring pressure and danger onto her father, brothers, and Ning Yin. The court’s affairs were heart-wrenching, and in the previous life, Ning Yin’s lack of attachments allowed him to act recklessly.

Faint rooster crowing came from outside, signaling the dawn.

Yu Lingxi carefully, very carefully, lifted Ning Yin’s arm and tucked his slightly cool and sturdy palm into the thin blanket, carefully tucking in the corners for him. Then she slowly sat up, stepping onto the icy tiles beside the couch.

She fumbled on the wall, finding that inconspicuous small square, gently pressing it, and the secret chamber door opened again. Turning back, she looked at the morning light, casting a blue-white glow on Ning Yin’s sleeping face—quiet and fragile.

The half-open wardrobe was filled with beautiful and delicate dresses, stolen sweetness for her on this day. Yu Lingxi suddenly felt a bit melancholic, thinking she should leave a letter for Ning Yin, but she couldn’t find any paper or ink.

The furniture in the room was mostly destroyed, except for the bronze mirror sitting neatly on the dressing table. She wondered if there would be a chance to style Ning Yin’s hair with hairpins in the future.

As she pondered, a pale and handsome face appeared in the mirror. Yu Lingxi’s fingertips trembled, and she turned around in surprise. Ning Yin, who knows when he woke up, was draped in clothes, leaning against the doorway of the secret chamber, gazing at her with deep and dark eyes.

His face was so pale, making his pupils and hair color appear extremely black. “Sui Sui, getting up so early, do you plan to go somewhere?” Ning Yin asked with a smile.

Previous

Next