Jing Rong carried the unconscious Ji Yunshu up his sedan and left the East Gate of the palace in front of the guards and overseer, with Ji Wanxin naturally following suit.

As the sedan disappeared into the distance, the overseer’s thumping heart began to calm down. Not far off, Jing Yi’s eyes lit up gradually following Jing Rong’s moving sedan, his fists almost grasping victory – it was not far away!

“Jing Rong, this Prince will wait for you to quietly leave the capital. Don’t ever think of returning in this lifetime!” He spoke in hushed tones, then signalling to Dou Quan out of his window, “Let’s return to the estate.” He pulled down his blinds at Dou Quan reeled in his reins and they set off from the East Gate.

The Rong Estate.

Ji Yunshu was covered in blood and cold sweat, her face ghostly white, slender frame trembling ever so slightly. It was not long before Mo Ruo arrived, startled at the sight before him; she was sprawled on the bed, her pale garb dyed red, flesh mangled as if she were a steak hammered to pieces. Mo Ruo sucked in, ordering for a basin of warm water to be brought forth as he shook his head.

Jing Rong stood watch, gaze fixed firmly on the back of Ji Yunshu’s skull. He finally spoke, “Nothing must happen to her.”

Mo Ruo narrowed his eyes, “If she dies, what of you?”

“I cannot live as well.” There was no hesitation.

Mo Ruo was not surprised, “Jing Rong, it will happen sooner or later – if you do not kill her, then she will kill you.” There were hints of warning in his voice, but also hints of admonition.

Jing Rong said nothing.

Their conversation was heard by Ji Wanxin, who was standing in a corner of the room. Her fingers were digging deep into the flesh of her palms, any deeper and she would have drawn blood. In that moment, how much did she wish for Ji Yunshu to stay asleep forever! All these were well-hidden beneath her gentle appearance, the only expression she wore was that of pity, tears brimming at the sight of her sister.

Mo Ruo eventually had everyone but Shi Zijin and Ji Wanxin leave the room. It took the time for a joss stick to finish burning before he had finished applying medicine to Ji Yunshu’s wounds. He gave her some oral medication as well. With Ji Wanxin’s assistance, they managed to dress her wounds and help her into clean clothes.

Mo Ruo washed the blood off his hands and smoothed out his robes. Picking up a brush, he wrote down the names of several medicinal herbs and handed the list to Shi Zijin, “Have the servants boys at Yuhua Pavillion prepare several servings of this prescription.” Shi Zijin disappeared in a flash.

By then, Jing Rong had entered the room. He lifted his hand an inch, but put it back down again, balling his fists inside his sleeves instead. He looked at Ji Yunshu’s pale face for a long while with his deep-set eyes, before finally tearing his eyes away. He approached Mo Ruo, asking, “How is it?”

Mo Ruo did not even spare him a glance, “She was already weak to begin with; now that she’s gone through such an ordeal, she’ll need complete bed rest for several months, a month if she’s lucky. You’re lucky you have me around – she’ll need just over a week.” He flicked him away.

Jing Rong nodded coldly, “Stay here first, there’s somewhere I have to be.” He put a foot across the door sill and headed out.

Mo Ruo quickly grabbed him, “Are you going to meet with Prince Yi?” It wasn’t a question – he was sure!

Jing Rong gave a curt nod; Mo Ruo had the keenest ears in the capital – it was no wonder he knew. Mo Ruo sighed, “If it was destined by the heavens, nothing and no one can change it. Jing Rong, oh Jing Rong, this is fate!”

Jing Rong left without a word.

When Mo Ruo returned to the room, he found Ji Wanxin in a coughing fit. He pulled her to a chair, “Let me read your pulse.”

“Many thanks.”

Mo Ruo placed a handkerchief over her wrist, then his fingers over it. He pulled away after a short while, “Miss’ body is weak and is cold by nature – your illness was likely due to poor care after a bad cold when you were young.”

“Gentleman Mo lives up to your name; my illness is chronic and can’t be cured.”

“All ailments start in the mind.” Mo Ruo picked up his brush and wrote another prescription, handing it to her, detailing, “Take this prescription everyday when you return. Even though it cannot cure your illness, it can help alleviate it.”

Ji Wanxin received it, thanking him, “Many thanks, Gentleman Mo.”

“There’s no need!” He brushed it off.

“Is Gentleman Mo good friends with Prince Rong?”

“Mm!”

Ji Wanxin dropped her gaze, continuing, “Prince Rong treats Yunshu very well – I believe Gentleman Mo has never seen Prince Rong treat any woman this way, have you?”

What a funny question! Even though Mo Ruo looked like he was indifferent, he was sharper than anyone else. He put down what was in his hands, looking accusingly at Ji Wanxin as he narrowed his eyes, “It seems Second Miss Ji is very interested in Prince Rong?”

Ugh! Mo Ruo was Mo Ruo; he was brutally straightforward, never skirting around the bush. Ji Wanxin did not expect her tail to be caught. She hesitated as her hands began to sweat, but she put on a calm front as she explained, “You are mistaken – I’m only trying to start a conversation.”

Mo Ruo only smiled.

The Yi Estate.

Jing Yi sat at his desk before a piece of thin paper. He dipped his brush in ink in one hand and held back his sleeve with the other, and began to write. On the bamboo mat, a small incense burner was lit, its fragrant smell permeating the hall. The hall was so quiet that the scratching of his brush against paper could be heard, until a set of footsteps broke the eerie silence.

Jing Yi continued writing, the corners of his thin, cold lips slowly pulling upwards. He knew who it was!

Jing Rong walked in stonily, stopping right before him.

He did not speak, nor did Jing Yi spare him a glance.

When Jing Yi finished his last stroke, he placed his brush on an ivory brush holder, admiring his own work, “Good!” How shameless!

He lazily looked up at Jing Rong, smiling, “How did the great Prince Rong find time to come visit today? I’ve only just heard that that clever Teacher Ji was sounding the royal drums at the East Gate – how did that go? Did she receive all forty paddles and sound the drums? Or…” Was she dead? Jing Yi left those words unsaid, but his intentions lingered.

Jing Rong was expressionless; he had no time for small talk, “The Supreme Court Chancellor is one of your men – you must have had a hand in this case, no?”

Jing Yi pondered, puzzled, “Case? What case?”

I don’t know of any case! He was acting quite the fool, playing the part.

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