A deep, resonant male voice sounded from outside the room. "I heard a strange noise. Is the young master unharmed?"
Fu Yingzhi’s back went rigid. As she looked up, she met a pair of deep eyes filled with inquiry and suppressed fury.
The man held her trapped within the crook of his arm. Fu Yingzhi suddenly realized her palms were slick with a thin layer of sweat. They were so close that she could even see the dark, embroidered cloud patterns on the collar of his black robes.
"Young master?"
When no response came from the room after a long moment, the faint sound of a blade being unsheathed rang out from behind the door.
Fu Yingzhi could feel that the man outside was ready to burst in at any moment. With a sudden surge of resolve, she raised her arms to hook them around Song Xiuyuan’s neck and whispered, "Forgive me."
The moment her soft lips pressed against his, the tip of her tongue nudged his teeth apart, pushing a pill deep into the back of his throat.
Song Xiuyuan’s Adam's apple bobbed sharply. A flush of crimson bloomed across his jade-like cheeks, and his bottomless dark eyes flickered with a touch of flustered indignation.
*Bang!*
The ornate wooden door was kicked open. The guard who burst in froze at the sight of the intimate scene before him. His long saber clattered to the floor as he stood there in shock, staring at the slender back of the young woman pressed against the man, as if he had seen a ghost in broad daylight. He couldn't even manage a coherent sentence. "My... my apologies. I shall withdraw."
As the door clicked shut, the man in the room seemed to jolt back to his senses.
"Impudent!"
He snarled in a low voice and shoved the young woman to the ground.
"Does your stomach still ache, young master?" The girl did not seem annoyed; instead, she tilted her head to look at him, her eyes as clear as a fawn’s in the forest.
Song Xiuyuan’s fingertips instinctively brushed his abdomen. He realized with shock that the sharp, churning pain from moments ago had vanished like a receding tide.
"What was that you just fed me?" The man frowned, his gaze wary and searching.
"An ancestral stomach remedy. The ingredients are extremely precious." Fu Yingzhi, feeling the ache from her fall, couldn't help but roll her eyes at him while muttering under her breath, pulling herself up from the floor.
"Why are you here?" Song Xiuyuan knit his brows and asked suddenly.
"I was framed by a scoundrel," the girl said, her face puffed up with indignation as a flicker of grievance flashed through her eyes.
Song Xiuyuan said nothing, merely letting out a faint scoff, clearly unsatisfied with her answer.
"Someone stole my carriage, intent on kidnapping me and ruining my reputation," Fu Yingzhi said, curling her lip with teeth-gritting resentment. She added, "I have to get out of here and return home safely. I cannot give those scoundrels another chance!"
Watching the girl’s puffed-up, pouting expression, Song Xiuyuan felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to laugh. He quirked his lips and said languidly, "How about we strike a bargain?"
"A... what kind of bargain?" Fu Yingzhi hadn't expected this turn of events and was momentarily dazed.
"I will see you home safely," he paused deliberately, his tone heavy with meaning. "In exchange, you give me that medicine you used just now. How about it?"
The girl sniffled and straightened her posture. "That medicine requires regular refinement. I only have one pill on me right now, but it will remain effective for three days."
Seeing Song Xiuyuan’s sword-like brows knit together, she hurriedly added, "If you truly ensure my safety, you can come to collect more at regular intervals."
Song Xiuyuan narrowed his eyes and said in a low voice, "And if you cannot produce more in three days..."
"You know where I live, so why would you fear me running away?" Fu Yingzhi chuckled, looking up at him. "Or are you afraid I poisoned you?"
Song Xiuyuan’s brows furrowed, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. Fu Yingzhi stood on her tiptoes, leaned close to his ear, and said with a faint, elusive smile, "If I truly wanted to poison you, why wait three days? Back when we exchanged... breath..."
Before she could finish, the man's ear tips turned bright red. A moment later, a gritted-out command reached her ears: "Mosong, prepare the carriage!"
...
A short while later, Fu Yingzhi arrived at the carriage waiting by the entrance. She lifted her skirt slightly, stepped onto the carriage board, and pushed aside the silk curtain. Waves of woody fragrance wafted out to meet her.
Inside, the man in black sat with an indifferent expression.
Fu Yingzhi sat down opposite him. After a moment of hesitation, she finally spoke. "It was all so hurried earlier; I have yet to ask which family you belong to? How should I address you?"
"Prince Jing..." Song Xiuyuan paused, then said with a straight face, "I am Moyan, a guard from Prince Jing's Estate."
Prince Jing? Fu Yingzhi’s breath hitched. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes. That was the fourth prince, the Emperor’s favorite, the mysterious royal rumored to suffer from a strange illness yet wield immense power at court.
The person before her actually had ties to that noble figure! Her heart trembled. She steadied herself, preparing to close her eyes and recall the details recorded in the original book.
Song Xiuyuan took in every fleeting change in the girl’s expression. Just as he was about to speak, he saw Fu Yingzhi lazily lean her head against the carriage wall, looking as if she were about to drift off into a nap. A trace of amusement flashed in his eyes.
Suddenly, a gold-woven cushion was thrust into her hands. She blinked in surprise before bursting into a giggle. "You are so considerate, young master; you will surely make a good husband one day."
Song Xiuyuan froze. "Too talkative."
The galloping wheels crunched over the cobblestones, the noise masking the sound of someone’s suddenly erratic breathing inside the carriage.
...
Suddenly, a commotion arose outside, and the carriage slowed to a halt.
Song Xiuyuan peeked half his face through the brocade curtains, his gaze as cold as frost. He frowned at the noisy crowd outside and raised an eyebrow at Mosong.
Mosong understood and bowed. "I shall return immediately, master."
Moments later, he returned, followed by a man in official robes.
The two walked to the side of the carriage. Mosong stepped forward and reported in a low voice, "Young master, there are officials from the Metropolitan Prefecture investigating a case ahead. This is the officer in charge." With that, he stepped aside to let the man approach.
Upon seeing Song Xiuyuan’s face, the official turned deathly pale with shock.
Song Xiuyuan shook his head at him. The man caught the hint, composed himself, bowed deeply, and said with humble reverence, "This lowly official did not know a noble was present. Please forgive my offense."
Song Xiuyuan nodded slightly, his expression indifferent, and said no more.
Seeing this, the official hurriedly waved his hand at his subordinates. "Quick, clear the way!"
...
As the carriage moved forward again, Fu Yingzhi quietly lifted the curtain a crack to glimpse the scene outside.
Two meters away, several bailiffs stood like stone towers outside a residence. Curious onlookers stretched their necks, whispering fervently. On the ground sat two disheveled men—one was fast asleep, snoring like thunder, while the other sat rigid as a puppet.
An official was holding up the handkerchief embroidered with the word "Jing'an," asking the bystanders to identify its owner.
The whispers of the crowd reached her ears: "Jing'an? Isn't that the given name of the second miss of the Fu Residence?"
"Why would the second miss's handkerchief be here? Could it be..."
"Hush, don't talk nonsense! Loose lips bring disaster."
...
The whispers drifted into the carriage. Fu Yingzhi couldn't help but curl her lips in mockery, thinking to herself: *They truly deserve this!*
Winding through the lanes and streets, the carriage soon arrived deep within Fu'an Lane.
Fu Yingzhi pointed her slender, jade-white finger toward the overhanging eaves on the southeast corner and said softly, "Please stop here."
The vermilion gates with their copper beasts were close at hand, but in Fu Yingzhi’s heart, waves were crashing. The events of the original book flashed through her mind like a lantern—that den of wolves, that abyss that devoured people whole, was likely already laying a trap for her.
She steadied her heart and looked at Song Xiuyuan, her almond eyes instantly shimmering with tears. "If I return late, my family might misunderstand..." Before she could finish, pearlescent tears hung at the corners of her eyes. "Tomorrow, when you send someone to collect the medicine, could you..."
"Very well." Seeing this, Song Xiuyuan’s heart softened, and he could not help but nod in agreement. Once she received his confirmation, Fu Yingzhi finally relaxed her nails, which had been digging into her palms, and let out a long breath—though her face remained draped in a mask of frailty.
She rose slowly, bowed to Song Xiuyuan, and stepped out of the carriage. With heavy steps and a troubled mind, she walked toward her home.
Watching her back fade into the distance, an strange, unbidden feeling stirred in Song Xiuyuan’s heart...
A moment later, as if struck by a thought, his gaze landed on the exquisite, ornate plaque of "Count Jingwen’s Estate." His eyes darkened suddenly, and he called for his confidant.
"Mosong, go investigate."
...
Just as Fu Yingzhi stepped through the front gate, a servant woman in a dark red jacket with green trim stumbled toward her, shouting at the top of her lungs, "The third miss is back! The third miss is back!"
Hearing the woman’s shrill cries, Fu Yingzhi frowned and realized with a jolt that this woman was a confidante of Side Consort Wen—Mammy Xia.
In the book, this woman was a viper with a benevolent mask, a source of endless malicious schemes for Madam Wen and a perpetrator of countless dirty deeds.
Fu Yingzhi’s eyes turned cold. She hadn't even entered the house, and the play had already begun.
From the moment Mammy Xia saw her, she hadn't stopped shrieking, muttering under her breath while constantly glancing behind her.
When she confirmed that Fu Yingzhi had indeed returned alone, a flicker of confusion and disappointment crossed her eyes.
She quickly regained her composure, grabbed Fu Yingzhi’s sleeve with both hands, and loudly wailed, "Third miss, we didn't know who kidnapped you this morning! You were missing for so long! Thank heavens, the Bodhisattva has shown mercy—you’ve returned unharmed!"
The commotion drew passersby on the street to stop and watch. Seeing the crowd grow, Mammy Xia seemed to have stepped onto a stage; she performed even more vigorously, sobbing until her face was a mess of tears and snot. "If the miss’s reputation has been tarnished, this old servant would deserve to die a thousand times over for failing to protect you!"
She clung to Fu Yingzhi for dear life, her feet planted like lead weights, as if she wouldn't allow her to enter the manor until the scene was played to its end.
Fu Yingzhi looked at Mammy Xia with cold eyes. *She is making such a scene,* she thought. *She claims to be worried, but every word is designed to imply I’ve lost my virtue. How truly wicked!*
Mammy Xia felt a chill under the weight of her cold, sharp gaze and was forced to grit her teeth and squeeze out a few more tears.
A moment later, just as Fu Yingzhi was about to speak, a woman’s voice called out from behind her, "Is that Yingzhi back?"