"Again?"
Yin Xun caught the key word, raised his tear-brightened eyes once more, and cast a timid glance at the woman beside him.
Then, recalling her remark about him being "bold," he covered his face and gave a couple of light coughs.
"You flatter me, Fourth Miss. I am of a weak disposition and as timid as a mouse, so I am afraid I cannot live up to your evaluation." He lowered his gaze, his dark, thick lashes fluttering slightly, stained with tears, making him look the very picture of something fragile.
Or perhaps a slender bamboo swaying in the wind, liable to snap at the slightest touch.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ming Li glanced at his blood-stained sleeve, recalling the only assassin who had lost his breath among the group just moments ago. She let out a soft scoff, seeing right through the act without exposing it.
However, even Ming Li could not act so carefree for long.
After supporting him for a few paces, the effects of the drug finally reached her face, dyeing her cheeks with a flush.
The Divine Stone hurriedly reminded her, "Little Master, the drug is taking effect, we must leave at once."
Ming Li was nothing if decisive. She withdrew the hand supporting him, and Yin Xun, suddenly losing his support, almost instinctively grabbed her palm.
That hand was not large, the web of the thumb bearing faint calluses; by comparison, his own palm seemed even softer.
Then, following her arm, he caught sight of her inexplicably flushed face.
Naturally, he did not mistake it for maidenly shyness.
Jiang Li was not at the banquet, and he had heard that the Crown Prince had left his seat.
His expression seemed to shift, his coughing grew increasingly violent, and his entire body leaned toward Ming Li.
Caught off guard, Ming Li found this tall bamboo stalk tumbling straight into her arms, his wet, warm breath brushing lightly against her earlobe.
So Ming Li, who had been planning to find a place to ride out the effects of the drug, darkened her gaze. Slipping her fingertips into his loose, dark hair, she cupped the back of his jade-like neck and exerted slight pressure, the amusement entirely vanishing from her voice.
"Your Highness, do you know what you are doing?"
A few coughs sounded from behind her ear. As if uncomprehending, the young man let out a confused "Hmm?", though his breath intentionally or unintentionally brushed against the back of her neck, and his hand, as if searching for support, pressed its fingertips against her spine, helplessly clinging to her.
Through their thin spring robes, their bodies pressed together—one burning hot, the other icy cold.
Yin Xun sensed the breathing of the person in his arms growing heavier.
Yet she made no move, leaving him with no choice but to grit his teeth and take a gamble. He murmured a low "Fourth Miss," and, as if by accident, captured her earlobe and lightly sucked on it.
Then, she finally let out a laugh, forcefully shoving the two of them apart and grabbing him by the collar. "Don't regret this."
He saw an unusual silver light in the depths of her eyes, like moonlight filtering through, intoxicating and dangerous.
Yet, he had never expected that this seemingly slender young miss would have such strength. Pulled forward, he choked twice, and once he caught his breath, he let out a weak nasal sound and reached out to pat the hand gripping his collar.
Pale cold and warm white intertwined, inexplicably lingering.
He said, "Fourth Miss, a little gentler."
Quite pitiful, really.
At that, the young maiden's smile grew even colder.
The patch of flowers was crushed down by their weight.
The crowded petals grew utterly chaotic amidst the frantic shoving.
A slender, pale hand stretched out from beneath, blindly searching for something to steady itself, before finally pinching a shaken-off flower. His fingertips trembled violently as if stimulated, crushing the blossom beyond recognition.
Left suddenly unable to see the outside world, the Divine Stone scratched its head in utter bewilderment: ?? What on earth is going on here??
***
Having not seen Ming Li for a long time, Jiang Ling grew somewhat anxious. Saying goodbye to her friends, she began searching the Imperial Garden.
The strange thing was that she had not encountered a single palace servant along the way.
This defied common sense; the banquet was underway, requiring many attendants, and this path was the only way to traverse the area. Consequently, both her steps and her heartbeat grew cautious.
Not long after, she caught sight of Ming Li in the distance, putting on her outer robe.
Her expression lingered with a sense of unfinished satisfaction.
And beneath him, there was clearly another figure, indistinctly seen, save for a man's hand with pale skin, pinkish knuckles, and a palm loosely clutching a cruelly ravaged flower, exuding an air of powerless decadence.
Jiang Ling's heart skipped a beat.
At that moment, she heard the voices of noble ladies approaching from another direction, making her already pale face—shocked as she was—grow even more unsightly.
Yet she managed to suppress her unease, cast one final glance at the intertwined figures over there, took a deep breath, and, donning the poise of a noble lady, walked toward the voices.
Only then did Ming Li look back, raising an eyebrow. She reached down to help up the person whose pupils had lost focus, used her sleeve to wipe the tear tracks from his face, picked up his garments to inspect them, and dressed him layer by layer.
Until his hair was neatly retied, the youth—whose flushed heat had yet to recede—clutched his collar and finally regained his wits.
With a blink of his eyes, a few more tears rolled down his chin and landed on the back of his hand.
Then, he heard the person before him mock him.
"What are you crying for?"
His reddened eye corners grew even more alluring.
"Fourth Miss, I ache."
Perhaps he had been tossed about too severely earlier, for he had discarded his feigned innocence, fixing his gaze on her with aggrieved intensity. His eyes were no longer fragile, but rather carried an allure that begged one to delve deeper.
Extremely seductive.
Ming Li's gaze darkened for a fraction of a second, and she smiled as she asked in return, "Where does the Seventh Highness ache?"
The person before her actually reached out to touch his chest and waist, then made as if to touch elsewhere, only to stop with a blushing face. He cast a cautious glance at her, his voice growing low and aggrieved, "Everywhere."
Whereupon she reached out and flicked his forehead.
"Hmph, after all, some timid-as-a-mouse creature needs to learn a lesson."
"So, now that Your Highness has done everything you wished to do, what do you plan to do next?" As if seeing right through his thoughts, he watched her reveal the kind of gaze one has at the height of passion—the look of someone ready to swallow a person alive.
Tinged with a bizarre sense of vengeance.
Recalling the pain from moments before, he instinctively shrank back, finally letting a few more tears drop as he replied with a trembling voice.
"Fourth Miss truly knows how to turn right and wrong upside down."
"This is hardly what I wished to do."
At least, what he had wished for was entirely different.
When the Divine Stone was finally let out, this was the exact scene that greeted it. Not being an immature divine artifact, it understood what had happened almost instantly, and shrieked like it had seen a ghost, "Little Master, you and His Highness—"
"Help me clear the lingering effects of the drug." Though even without understanding, it would have been entirely fine.
Still, she rather enjoyed it.
Whereupon the Divine Stone sent an urgent dispatch to Tianfang overnight.
After a long while, it received a reply.
The first letter returned a string of silence.
The second said, "As long as they're happy."
The third said, "Youth is wonderful."
Divine Stone: ?
So this was actually allowed?