Chapter 26: Secret Letter: Sheathing the Blade

Yan Yiqing clearly didn’t want to care, but her gaze uncontrollably fell on Zhao Huairen’s wound.

She stiffly turned her head away, pursing her lips tightly, deliberately avoiding looking at Zhao Huairen.

Even if he was truly disfigured, it was what he deserved.

Out of nowhere—who needed his help tucking in the quilt?

But why?

A faint sense of lingering fear stirred in her heart.

Although Yan Yiqing had zoned out again, her pupils shone brighter than obsidian soaked in water, clearly showing she hadn’t been affected.

After confirming she was unharmed, the heavy stone weighing on Zhao Huairen’s chest finally dropped. She pursed her lips and said, “It’s late. Young Master Yan, rest well. I’ll take my leave—”

Hearing this, Yan Yiqing lifted her eyes to look at her.

After the fight outside the courtyard, the hair of the person before her was slightly disheveled. Under the flickering candlelight, the sweat beading on her forehead was clearly visible.

Most importantly.

That face so similar to Huairen’s.

On her left cheek, near the corner of her eye, the exquisitely sculpted jade-like face had been viciously clawed by a feral cat.

Just because they looked alike, did that make them the same person? Tonight’s events couldn’t possibly be unrelated to him. Even if she hadn’t caught him red-handed, that didn’t mean he was innocent.

“What are you pretending to be?”

Zhao Huairen lowered her head and asked, “I don’t know what Young Master Yan means by that.”

With her head bowed, the bloody mark beneath her eye became even more conspicuous.

It was just a small wound less than an inch long. She’d suffered countless like it on the battlefield—this couldn’t even be called an injury.

Pretending to be pitiful.

It was… truly irritating.

“No offense. I want to rest.” Suppressing the strange emotions in her heart, Yan Yiqing turned away, facing the wall. “Heir Apparent, see yourself out.”

The fingers hanging at her side curled slightly.

Seeing she didn’t want to talk more, Zhao Huairen turned and walked out of the main room.

Although Yan Yiqing had closed her eyes, her ears remained perked up quietly until the footsteps completely faded. Only then did she secretly let out a breath of relief.

Wasn’t it?!

Shouldn’t he be the guilty one?!

–

The banquet in the front courtyard had reached its end.

Just after the hour of Xu, Zhichun and Aqin began heading back.

Casually latching the main room’s door, Zhao Huairen crouched down and picked up the indigo brocade box she had used as a weapon in the heat of the moment.

The edges were a bit worn.

Fortunately, the jade pendant inside hadn’t been damaged.

“Heir Apparent?” Spotting Zhao Huairen’s figure, Zhichun quickened her steps.

Brushing the dust off the box and tucking it away properly, Zhao Huairen slowly descended the stone steps. “Zhichun, go to the storehouse and fetch a new brocade quilt. Have it sent to the bedroom later.”

Zhichun was about to nod when she suddenly froze. “Heir Apparent, what happened to your face?”

“What?” Zhao Huairen frowned.

A chilly evening breeze swept through, bringing a sharp sting to the wound.

Recalling Yan Yiqing’s gaze from moments ago.

Zhao Huairen realized something and lightly brushed her fingertip under her eye.

Her breath catching, Zhichun hurriedly warned, “Heir Apparent, don’t touch it with your hands—you might scar!”

“It’s just a minor injury. No matter.” Her fair fingertip was now stained crimson. Glancing at the red mark, Zhao Huairen said indifferently, “A few days of Jade Countenance Cream will heal it.”

“Another ‘minor injury’…” Zhichun pouted, her eyes growing hot. “Heir Apparent is always so careless. This wound is so close to your eye—what if it affects your sight?”

“It didn’t reach my eye.”

Zhichun sniffled. “But what if it had?”

Worried that further argument would make Zhichun burst into tears again, Zhao Huairen pursed her lips and subtly changed the subject. “The Dali Temple still has official business to handle. I’ll rest in the study tonight. Go to the inner room and fetch the Jade Countenance Cream for me.”

“Yes.” Zhichun nodded slightly.

Seeing her calm down, Zhao Huairen glanced toward the main room and said with downcast eyes, “Go on. I’ll wait for you in the study.”

After tonight’s events.

Yan Yiqing probably didn’t want to see her right now.

…

Precious medicines like Jade Countenance Cream were typically stored in the huanghuali official box in the inner room. After Zhao Huairen entered the study, Zhichun removed the key token from her waist and handed it to Aqin.

“I’ll go in to get the medicine. You head to the storehouse for the new brocade quilt. With the Linzhu Courtyard token, the steward won’t give you trouble.”

“Got it.” Aqin took the token.

The moment she stepped into the courtyard, Zhao Huairen’s facial wound had dazed her. Now, seeing the double happiness characters pasted on the windows, Zhichun belatedly realized—Yan Yiqing was still inside.

Why didn’t the Heir Apparent get the medicine herself?

Resting in the study—they were separating rooms on their wedding night?

Something felt off, her heartbeat quickening. Taking a deep breath, Zhichun lightly pushed open the door.

Of course Yan Yiqing wasn’t asleep.

She felt like she’d been bewitched.

Closing her eyes brought that person’s wound into view.

No position felt right, so she simply sat up straight.

Thus, when Zhichun pushed open the door, she saw a woman in red robes, her black hair cascading to her waist, her brows filled with menace, a dagger glinting coldly in her hand.

Now she knew how the Heir Apparent got her wound.

Wuwuwu… She was utterly loyal to the Heir Apparent—how could she do this to her!

This was something for Zhuyu to handle.

Dealing with Yan Yiqing? She wasn’t even worth a gap between teeth!

Her steps faltering and weak, her heart in her throat, Zhichun moved like a little mouse that had stolen oil, silently chanting don’t see me, don’t see me as she inched toward the inner room.

There were two breathing sounds in the inner room.

But they didn’t intersect, completely separate.

Her fingertip lightly touched the edge of the official box. Victory in sight, Zhichun finally exhaled, thinking: Hehe, she knew Big Sis would protect her from heaven…

“Stop.”

Zhichun’s hands shot up instantly, not even daring to turn her head. “Spare me, Your Majesty! Don’t kill me, Your Majesty!”

Your Majesty again? What the hell?

Was there anyone normal in Duke Rui’s Mansion?

In that moment of distraction, Yan Yiqing had already sheathed her dagger. She rose from the bed, face dark, and slowly walked over to stand before the trembling little mouse.

Zhichun stared down at her own shoe tips. Seeing an extra pair of feet in her view, her eyes and nose scrunched up together. She was about to cry for help—

“Take this away.”

The woman extended her palm, revealing a delicate small medicine bottle shaped like an oversized white jade go piece.

Zhichun stammered, “Th-this is…?”

“So much nonsense.”

Zhichun’s little mouth snapped shut. She swallowed and stood ramrod straight.

“Catch.”

Instinctively reaching out, Zhichun took the bottle like a hot potato, her voice trembling. “I… I won’t poison the Heir Apparent…”

Tonight’s events might or might not relate to Zhao Huaijin, but this one before her—probably not.

Yan Yiqing raised a brow. “Quite loyal. What’s your name?”

“Zhichun.”

“This is scar-removing ointment. For now… I’m not planning to poison your Heir Apparent.” Yan Yiqing yawned carelessly and sat back on the bed. “But if he’s so afraid of dying, better not use it.”

Zhichun nodded woodenly.

“Waiting for me to escort you?”

At those words, as if oil slicked her soles, Zhichun fled at her fastest speed ever.

…

“Heir Apparent, I was really scared to death by her just now.”

Two medicine bottles of similar material but different shapes sat on the desk—one from tonight, one from the Dali Temple some time ago.

Seeing Zhao Huairen ignoring her, intently staring at the two bottles, Zhichun puffed out her cheeks and whispered, “Heir Apparent, you’re not really going to use the one she gave you, are you?”

“Mm, her medicine is good.” Zhao Huairen picked up the bottle on the left.

Once might be coincidence.

But twice… the Ghost Physician’s medicine wasn’t easy to obtain.

To casually gift something so precious, what exactly was the relationship between Yan Yiqing and that elusive top healer of the jianghu?

“What if it’s really poisoned?”

“She wouldn’t.”

How wouldn’t she?! Though she had to admit that Miss Yan was quite beautiful, how could this be? How could the Heir Apparent fall for such a honey trap so easily?

Without looking, Zhao Huairen could guess what was in Zhichun’s little head. She shook her head amusedly and said softly, “Fetch the bronze mirror.”

Even while inwardly grumbling about Zhao Huairen’s unsteady Dao heart, Zhichun’s feet moved honestly. She brought the mirror over and held it steadily before Zhao Huairen.

“The medicine was handed to you personally. If I died, the Crown Prince Party would surely make trouble.” The warmth of her fingertip melted the ointment as Zhao Huairen said gently, “Young Master Yan isn’t that stupid. If she wanted to kill me, she wouldn’t dirty her own hands.”

Knock knock.

Someone knocked on the study door.

Hearing the knock behind her, Zhichun gripped the mirror tightly and instinctively blocked Zhao Huairen.

Zhao Huairen’s heart warmed. “Don’t be afraid. Zhuyu’s back.”

“I’ll get the door for Zhuyu!”

Frost from the cold night clung to Zhuyu’s shoulders. She warmed herself by the brazier for a moment until the chill dissipated, then approached Zhao Huairen.

She was about to report when she noticed the wound under Zhao Huairen’s eye.

“I’ve already applied medicine. It’s fine.” Zhao Huairen set down the bottle and turned to Zhichun behind Zhuyu. “Zhichun, go check if Aqin’s back.”

Always keeping things from her.

She’d been with the Heir Apparent the longest, yet she felt like an outsider.

Zhichun pouted aggrievedly, curtsied to Zhao Huairen, and gently closed the door as she left.

“What did she say?” Zhao Huairen looked up at Zhuyu.

Zhuyu made a few hand signs.

Stepping forward, she placed the secret letter from her sleeve on the corner of the desk.

“Keep in contact with her for now.” Zhao Huairen’s knuckle tapped the upper right corner of the letter paper, her voice clear and cold. “Find a safe place in one of the estates outside the city. When the time is right, bring her over.”

Zhuyu nodded.

Soaking the letter paper in the candle flame, watching the faint black smoke rise, Zhao Huairen said, “Go on. Zhichun left you some late-night supper.”

A flicker of hesitation passed through Zhuyu’s eyes.

She kept her head down, unmoving.

“Something else?”

Her teeth pressing her tongue, Zhuyu took two exquisitely crafted golden hairpins from her sleeve and carefully placed them on the desk corner.

“What does this mean?” Zhao Huairen frowned.

The Heir Apparent didn’t have even one like this.

It might have raised suspicions before, but now—it could be said to be Young Master Yan’s.

“She won’t accept them, and I…” Picking up the golden hairpin, Zhao Huairen’s lashes lowered slightly. In the end, she only said softly, “Thank you.”

Even if she couldn’t wear them out, Zhuyu hoped the Heir Apparent would have them. With that thought, she’d prepared the two hairpins as a wedding gift.

But looking at Zhao Huairen.

She felt like she’d done something wrong.

Zhao Huairen looked up at Zhuyu, her light brown eyes like warm jade bathed in moonlight, a faint smile between her brows. “I really like them.”

Zhuyu immediately relaxed.

She nodded lightly and turned to leave the study.