“Lin Weiyin used the excuse of visiting Your Highness to enter the Crown Prince’s residence, and then stayed until night. When she left, she ‘happened’ to run into the Crown Prince,” Cui Yiyu explained calmly. “She falsely claimed she had just come from the Crown Princess’s quarters, that the Crown Princess had only just recovered from illness and was fatigued and already asleep. It happened to be raining, so she invited the Crown Prince to the warm pavilion to take shelter.”
Others did not know, but he did.
Of course, the rest Lin Yuanjin also knew—nothing more than an elder sister and her brother-in-law colluding in adultery; a stolen liaison more exciting than a lawful wife.
None of that mattered to Lin Yuanjin.
She saw the youth before her soaked through by rain, his black clothes wrinkled and clinging tightly to his lean body. Raindrops still slid down along his taut jawline; now and then, a drop trembled on his lashes before falling and shattering upon the ground.
Clearly, there was no one else around, yet compared to entering the room, Cui Yiyu would rather be drenched outside, drawing a clear line between himself and her.
When Lin Yuanjin looked at Cui Yiyu’s face again, her heart could not help but ache.
But after what had happened today, she understood—better that Cui Yiyu’s heart was like stone, unmoving, so he would not be dragged down by her.
She had no choice. Being liked by her was not a good thing.
“Has the Crown Prince’s medicine cured his ‘illness’?” Lin Yuanjin wiped her tears clean. It seemed the worst of her sorrow had passed; though her eyes were red and glistening with tears, she still smiled faintly. Her throat was hoarse, yet it did not hinder her speech—if anything, it carried the softness of a girl’s intimate whisper.
She asked directly, because there was no one else here, and nothing needed to be concealed.
Cui Yiyu looked at Lin Yuanjin. Perhaps the handkerchief had been too rough—her fair cheeks were rubbed into faint streaks of red. Damp strands of hair clung to her face in wisps.
Without the embellishment of powder and adornment, the girl’s natural features were like newly sprouted bamboo shoots—clear and delicate.
He did not know why he had come in, and knew he should not have, yet even standing in the rain, he had felt as though sitting on pins and needles, unable to remain indifferent no matter what.
After wiping away her tears, Lin Yuanjin’s gaze grew more restrained. When she looked at him now, it was no longer like before, when raising her eyes would seem to spill out glittering fragments of gold, as though afraid her trust and joy would not reach him—even her smile had once been different.
She had tasted bitterness. She had begun to learn to grind her teeth and swallow it down, wrapping up the affection that should have been cherished and hiding it carefully, afraid that it would instead be seized and used to wound her.
The sincere earnestness of youth would not be treasured when one had neither power nor status.
“I do not know.” She had already guessed most of it, and Cui Yiyu could not be considered to be revealing secrets. “Because I have not personally seen that witch doctor or the prescription, and that witch doctor came too coincidentally. Moreover, Imperial Physician Sun stated outright that it was a fierce, potent drug…”
He paused.
In truth, Cui Yiyu had never thought the medicine would work.
Lin Yuanjin took a deep breath, then coughed twice. “I understand.”
It certainly was not a good medicine, but it did have some effect—otherwise it would not have deceived anyone. Now the Crown Prince had taken Lin Weiyin into the bed curtains; who knew how long that virility would last.
“Lin Weiyin wants too much, yet thinks too little.” Lin Yuanjin raised her hand, removing the hairpins from her head one by one, until her dark long hair fell down her back like satin.
She slowly stood up, but from sitting too long and exhausting too much of her mind, her legs had gone numb and weak. She staggered, quickly bracing herself against the table to steady herself, just missing the hand Cui Yiyu had reached out.
Cui Yiyu saw their overlapping shadows under the candlelight, his gaze tightening. He quickly withdrew his hand as if nothing had happened, placing it behind his back. His straight posture appeared slightly constrained as one hand tightly gripped the wrist of the other.
He could not stand in the light—and neither could that despicable desire of his.
“Your Highness need not worry.”
“I know.” Lin Yuanjin breathed softly, supporting herself against the table as she forced herself upright, then step by step walked to the bed and sat down heavily. Her gaze lightly fell upon the youth still kneeling by the window, momentarily distracted. “There are people who will deal with her.”
A faint trace of wind and rain drifted in through the window, striking Cui Yiyu’s pale, jade-like neck, even revealing the fine, straight line of his spine.
Lin Yuanjin leaned against the bed, gazing at his quiet, slender figure that seemed ready to melt into the night. Her eyes lowered slightly, her gaze unfocused, as she called softly, “Yiyu.”
Cui Yiyu’s entire body froze in place like a statue; even his breathing seemed to vanish. Beneath his thin, damp clothing, a strange numbness rose abruptly, clinging to him like a bone-deep affliction, impossible to shake off.
If not for his keen hearing, he would almost not have caught that whisper, lighter than drifting clouds.
Yet that single sound pierced through Cui Yiyu’s neck like an arrow, forcing him to recall that instant of baseness—making him forget all the duties he should bear, leaving only the brief, extreme indulgence in desire.
Ever since returning to the capital, Lin Yuanjin had never called his code name.
But in that moment, what Cui Yiyu remembered was her small yet firm voice on the cliff, when she, like fragile reeds, could only lean against his back.
He was guilty, yet now still shamelessly kneeling within the Crown Princess’s chambers.
“Have I caused you trouble?” Lin Yuanjin asked softly, her voice carrying a faint choking note. She could not see the anomaly the youth had deeply hidden; she was only exhausted and low-spirited from everything that had happened today.
“No,” Cui Yiyu answered without hesitation, his tone calm and resolute. “Today’s matter has nothing to do with you.”
The one the Crown Prince intended to warn was him.
These past few days, Lin Yuanjin had addressed the Crown Prince properly, observed all etiquette, and carefully played the role of a respectful Crown Princess without the slightest lapse.
She had done very well. If there had been even the slightest mistake, what awaited her might have been harsher punishment from the Crown Prince.
“You have already done very well,” he said softly.
“That’s good.” Lin Yuanjin curved her eyes into a smile, briefly at ease. As she looked at Cui Yiyu, her gaze gradually lowered, until she closed her eyes and no longer looked at him.
She did not dare look at him anymore.
The more she looked, the closer he would seem—and the improper desires would arise unbidden.
Perhaps because she had cried so much, her eyelids felt especially heavy. Lin Yuanjin fell onto the pillow, her mind muddled, unconsciously curling her legs as she drew into herself. At the corners of her eyes lingered faint traces of tears, like dew about to fall.
Cui Yiyu stood up. Noticing Lin Yuanjin’s poor complexion, he first took out a strip of cloth and wiped away the unnatural water droplets and footprints beneath his feet. Then he picked up a teacup from the table, leapt out the window, and finally hurled the cup to the ground at a sharp angle.
The porcelain shattered with a crisp sound, immediately drawing the attention of the servants outside.
Cui Yiyu turned his back, standing silently by the window. He tilted his head up, watching the night rain slide down the roof tiles, listening as the door behind him opened—Nanny Zhang rushing in, hurriedly calling for ginger soup and a physician.
The rain fell like slender silver needles, one after another, reflected in the youth’s dark, clear eyes.
How could he not know Lin Yuanjin’s sorrow?
Yet the one she liked happened to be someone she should not—a tool hidden in the shadows, with nothing but martial skill and learning, unfit to be seen in the light.
Lin Yuanjin could like anyone—someone of humble origins, a noble heir—as long as that person had a proper standing. Even if lacking in talent or scholarship, they could still rise in court, arrange a marriage alliance early, and spare her from entering the imperial family.
She should like someone who could protect her.
Raindrops fell upon Cui Yiyu’s lashes, slowly sliding down his cheek, leaving behind a faint trail.
Cui Yiyu remained still for a long time. Only when the rain gradually weakened, when the night lightened like ink diluted in water, and the girl’s breathing inside the room grew steady, did he push himself away from the wall. He took out a mask and put it on, then silently made his way toward the warm pavilion.
Unlike the main chamber, which was in disarray because the Crown Princess had developed a fever in the night—
The warm pavilion was filled with hidden shadow guards in every corner, yet inside the room was a scene of indulgence and impropriety.
A lingering, sticky scent of intimacy hung over the bed. Clothes lay scattered across the floor in disarray, some bearing signs of tearing.
Lin Weiyin woke early in the morning, opening her eyes to the sight of the Crown Prince’s sleeping face.
She quietly lowered her head and shifted the brocade quilt. Red marks and finger imprints trailed down her body, enough to make one blush at the sight. From the waist down, she felt weak and sore. Though her entire body felt unaccustomed and uncomfortable, all of it undoubtedly proved the intensity of the night before.
She had truly been favored by the Crown Prince.
Perhaps because the Crown Prince had drunk deer blood, his body burning with heat, and with the specially prepared incense stirring desire, the night had ignited like thunder and fire, impossible to restrain.
Lin Weiyin let out a long breath of relief. Looking at the Crown Prince’s incomparably handsome face, she felt there was nothing about him that was not perfect. In her heart surfaced not only visions of future glory—being granted the rank of consort or even empress—but also the satisfaction of trampling Lin Yuanjin beneath her feet in vengeance.
When Lin Yuanjin had relied on her authority as Crown Princess to return home, walking beside the Crown Prince and intimidating her, had she ever imagined that the husband she held onto would now be lying beside Lin Weiyin’s pillow?
Just as Lin Weiyin was carefully studying the man before her, the Crown Prince suddenly opened his eyes.
Seeing the pale, slender arm before him, he first looked confused for a moment. Raising a hand to press against his groggy head, he seemed unable to recall the situation. As his vision gradually cleared and he saw Lin Weiyin’s shy, delicate face beside him, he finally remembered the absurd night he had spent yesterday.
Lin Weiyin thoughtfully raised her hand, intending to massage the acupoints on his head, but the Crown Prince reflexively slapped her hand away.
She froze, a trace of grievance appearing on her face.
The Crown Prince came to his senses, and only then did his face regain its proper composure and gentleness. He held Lin Weiyin’s hand and said, “Do not reach your hand toward the head of a royal.”
But daylight was different from night—there was clearly more coldness about him now.
Lin Weiyin believed his words. Looking at the man’s hand on her wrist, so different from a woman’s, her face grew even more bashful. “It is Weiyin who was ignorant.”
The Crown Prince smiled, though it did not reach his eyes, as he quietly appraised the woman beside him.
Compared to the Crown Princess, as sisters of the same mother, Lin Weiyin’s reputation was far better, and she resembled the Crown Princess somewhat.
