The Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet was, naturally, the height of luxury.
Beyond that, the Sheng Dynasty did not insist on separating men and women; rather, the guests of honor were seated separately from their spouses and children. Except for the Crown Prince, who was permitted to join the Emperor, the Empress Dowager, and the distinguished guests in the main hall, all other princes were relegated to the outer tables.
Therefore, the moment Yin Xun took his seat, he sensed a cool, indifferent gaze fixed upon him. It carried no obvious malice, yet it held no particular kindness either. He had intended to lower his head and avoid it, but the observer made no effort to hide their scrutiny. Caught off guard, he instinctively returned the gaze, only to pull his eyes away as if burned, his nerves frayed.
His display of cowardice was nothing short of perfection.
Ming Li, whose shoulders still ached, was completely unimpressed. She nibbled on a pastry, watching his performance with detached interest. She did not notice the woman sitting beside her, who was lost in contemplation. The woman, exuding an air of scholarly elegance and as clear and delicate as glazed glass, was watching Yin Xun with a look of quiet sorrow and rigorous assessment.
In the carriage earlier, Ming Li had finally remarked, "If you don't like it, then just get rid of it." The woman had pondered those words for a long time, but still couldn't decipher their true meaning. The only thing she could be certain of was that Ming Li hadn't been angry. Was it because of the Seventh Prince? And yet, why would her sister like the Seventh Prince?
Ming Li propped her chin on her hand, observing for a long time. Jiang Ling could not fathom her thoughts. Given that the two had not come into conflict lately, she decided to ask. But just as she leaned over, a palace maid approached Ming Li and whispered something in her ear. Ming Li stood up, wove through the crowd, and headed toward the inner palace.
...
Ming Li was locked in a room. The person who had led her there was from the Empress's palace, though not one of those in the Empress's inner circle. They had used the pretext of discussing a marriage proposal to lure her. At first, she couldn't imagine who would try to prank her, but when the Crown Prince, Yin Chu, was shoved into the room alongside her, she finally confirmed the culprit: it was the Empress.
From the moment he saw Ming Li, Yin Chu’s brow had been tightly knit. He seemed to have realized the situation, his face filled with a mixture of regret and suppressed dissatisfaction. "Fourth Miss Jiang, I apologize for the incident at the hunt. But you had a message sent to me—what is the meaning of this?"
Ming Li felt completely bewildered. "Me?"
"Your Highness has misunderstood," Ming Li said, spreading her hands. "I was lured here too. This sort of thing holds no benefit for me."
The Divine Stone added, "But if it were Jiang Li, there would certainly be benefits. After all, the Crown Prince is her heart's desire."
The Divine Stone expected Yin Chu to be skeptical, but the man was a bit too straightforward; he nodded earnestly. "Then we must find a way out."
"Stay away from the door," Yin Chu said, lifting his robes as he prepared to force it open.
Confirmed: he was nothing more than a brute.
Ming Li assessed the surroundings and cast her gaze toward the window.
Yin Chu lunged forward with a kick. *Crack.* The door remained unscathed.
Meanwhile, Ming Li had pried the window open with her bare hands.
Yin Chu finally believed that this affair had nothing to do with her. As Ming Li turned, she met his look of utter certainty. This was likely the first time Yin Chu had ever looked at "Jiang Li" with such respect—and it was because she had pulled a window off its frame with her bare hands?
Fortunately, the architects of this trap did not give the wide-eyed, starry-faced Yin Chu a chance to pull her aside and discuss the finer points of window-breaking. Whether the substance took effect faster on men remained unknown, but just as Yin Chu began to speak, his breathing turned ragged. The strength in his limbs began to drain away, and a wave of heat surged through his body to his head, clouding his consciousness.
He realized what was happening almost instantly. He opened his mouth to tell Ming Li to leave, but as he looked up, he saw her leaping onto the windowsill like a cat. Her brown eyes appeared particularly pale under the sunlight. She glanced back at him once, vaulted out, and pulled the window shut behind her.
The words he meant to say died in his throat.
"..." That was unnecessarily decisive.
"Little Master, is this really okay?" even the Divine Stone couldn't help but ask. "He is the Crown Prince, after all. If something happens to him, what will we do?"
Ming Li plucked a beautiful peony from a nearby bush, her nose twitching. "He's a Crown Prince—what could possibly happen to him?"
"He doesn't even like Jiang Li. My staying there would only put him in more danger."
Besides, she wasn't here to play the savior. Why bother with so much?
Suddenly, the Divine Stone sensed something and shrieked, "Little Master, the Prince! The Prince is in danger!"
To make tracking easier, Ming Li had planted a sliver of that person’s divine soul in her sea of consciousness. When a shard of that soul was about to face a calamity, it would issue a warning.
Ming Li, who hadn't seen Yin Xun in a long time, felt her eyes light up. She rolled up her sleeves, ready for action.
The Divine Stone went numb: "I certainly hope you intend to go save him."
Ming Li flashed that same unfriendly, squinty smile. "Of course."
If she wasn't going to save him, what else would she be doing?
...
It was rare for Yin Xun to attend such a banquet; to him, it was just as novel as the hunting trip. But novelty came at a price. The current weather was neither warm nor cold, and remaining outside for long was a torture to his frail body.
Not to mention, the Second Prince, Yin Yuan, sat not far away, his gaze cold and serpentine, like a viper lurking in the shadows. Recalling their last encounter, Yin Xun wasn't sure what kind of madness this man might attempt next, so he sought an excuse to leave early.
He had barely stepped onto the quiet path leading back to his quarters when he was blocked by a figure in black. It was shameful to admit, but Yin Xun possessed no martial skill; he had only just learned to ride a horse. Facing the sudden appearance of the assassin, he was like a child confronting an adult, with no room to counterattack.
He could only pretend to be calm, stalling for time in the hopes that a patrol would pass by and save him. But he knew in his heart that no one would pass by. Not a soul.
The scene from the hunting trip repeated itself. The assassin gripped a sharp weapon, stabbing toward his vitals without hesitation. This time, however, Yin Xun found strength from somewhere unknown. Fighting through his illness, he raised his hand and gripped the blade.
The force was too great; his legs buckled, and as he stumbled, he dodged the remaining glinting steel. Of course, that was his limit.
Ming Li arrived just in time to witness this. She swiftly threw the empty branch she was holding; it landed on one of the men like a harmless flick, doing no damage, but the group stopped and turned to notice her.
The young girl in her fine robes, with her delicate, beautiful features and a cherry blossom mark painted between her brows, slowly flexed her slender wrists beneath her sleeves. She looked ready to spring into action.
"Whose people are you?" she asked. "Making trouble at the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet—aren't your masters afraid of falling into the abyss?"
Some of the assassins knew her identity and her prowess; they had no intention of talking. As soon as she finished speaking, their blades moved in a blur.
For a split second, even Yin Xun thought it was the end, but then he heard the sound of steel clashing against steel. He looked up to see that the nearest assassin’s weapon had not only been deflected, but the man had been slashed across the eyes and was staggering back, clutching his bleeding face. A blood-stained golden hairpin was stuck in the assassin's sleeve.
Then, the girl closed the distance to him just as she had before. Her eyes held the same constant smile, but she wielded a stolen weapon with flawless technique, shielding him behind her back.
He realized then that he had survived again. But this Fourth Miss Jiang...
After briskly taking care of the five or six assassins, Ming Li brushed off her sleeves. Before she could turn to run, the frail prince, having seen through her intentions, let out a fit of violent coughing and pleaded in a low, humble voice.
"My deepest gratitude to the Fourth Miss for saving my life. I twisted my ankle while being pursued... might I trouble you to find a servant nearby for me..."
As he spoke, his coughing worsened. His already sickly frame bowed slightly, making him look as thin and fragile as a bamboo raft drifting on the river—lost, unable to find the shore, and on the verge of being swallowed by the churning currents.
However, Ming Li had no patience for such delicate beauty and pointed out the reality. "Do you think you’ll find anyone nearby?"
To bring so many assassins into a birthday banquet and dare to strike in such a place—the person behind this must have extraordinary status. How could a stupid mistake like running into a patrol or palace servants possibly occur?
Hearing the mockery in her tone, the young man’s expression grew somewhat embarrassed. He didn't speak further, merely bracing himself against the ground to stand, his palms stained with blood that soaked into his sleeves and was quickly hidden.
But standing was one thing; standing steadily was quite another.
A sudden wave of weakness washed over his limbs. Just as Yin Xun expected to collapse in a humiliating heap, a hand reached out from his side—slender and delicate, yet it slipped under his armpit with an air of absolute authority.
He was steadied.
"Many thanks, Fourth Miss," he said, turning his head, still coughing.
Ming Li did not miss the slight reddening at the corners of his eyes. Her smile and her malice deepened in unison.
"I thought you were quite bold. Why are you crying again so easily?"
"That won't do at all, Your Highness."