Xia Jingshi toyed with the light-blue glazed hairpin sent by Feng Suige’s messenger, its faint shimmer reflecting in his tired eyes. A quiet sigh escaped him.
“They’ve taken Yi Xiao,” he murmured. “To force my hand.”
Xiao Weiran stood nearby, anxious and speechless. Before he could respond, Ning Fei and Xueying entered the study.
Hearing Xia Jingshi’s words, Ning Fei exchanged a glance with Xiao Weiran. His expression grew grave.
“Your Highness,” he said carefully, “shouldn’t we report this to the Emperor?”
Xia Jingshi remained silent. His gaze stayed fixed on the hairpin, the flickering candlelight carving shadows along his jaw.
Weiran shook his head. “We don’t know how much they’ve discovered. Reporting now could expose everything. And besides,” he said bitterly, “the Emperor wouldn’t lift a finger for a mere Major.”
Xueying frowned, her sharp gaze darting between them. “Um… did I miss something important?”
Jingshi gave a faint smile, but his tone was heavy. “This isn’t as simple as you think, Xueying. It involves the Sushang royal family. You should return to Caocheng first. I’ll bring Yi Xiao back safely.”
“The Sushang royal family?” she repeated, stunned. Then her lips curled into a cold smile. “How foolish of me. Whenever Yi Xiao is in danger, you’re always at the center of it.”
“Xueying!” Ning Fei tugged her sleeve nervously. “Everyone’s trying to help—why speak like that?”
She brushed him off. “Help? What help? Other than going there yourself, what else can you possibly do?”
Her outburst lingered in the air like a slap.
Xia Jingshi rose slowly from his seat, his calm composure unshaken. “You’re right,” he said. “Weiran, prepare a message for the Emperor. Tell him that my chronic illness has been cured—and that I will depart for Sushang soon, to marry Princess Xiyang.”
Xiao Weiran and Ning Fei both froze. “Your Highness!” they cried in unison.
Jingshi smiled faintly, but sorrow dulled the light in his eyes. “They’ve grown impatient. I had intended to wait until spring, but fate rarely waits for anyone.”
Sushang, Shuihui Tower
Yi Xiao’s body was still weak from the drug Feng Suige had used, leaving her drowsy and faint all day. Since that night, he had not tortured her again, merely posting guards around the tower to ensure she could not flee.
She sat by the window, wrapped in a thin robe, gazing at the courtyard below. Laughter drifted faintly from passing maids.
“Did you hear?” one whispered. “The Prince of the Southern Border has left Jinxiu to marry our Princess.”
Her words froze Yi Xiao’s blood. She turned sharply, calling out, “Were you talking about the Prince of the Southern Border from Jinxiu? What did you say?”
The maids startled, bowing quickly. One hesitated before replying softly, “Yes, Your Grace. News came this morning—His Highness’s entourage is already on its way for the wedding.”
The words struck Yi Xiao like a thunderclap. Pain seared through her chest. Her vision blurred; she gripped the flower stand beside her to keep from collapsing.
So this is it, she thought bitterly. Cutting ties with me so you can marry Princess Xiyang in peace?
She forced a smile, but her eyes shimmered with heartbreak. Even now… I still can’t let him go.
Another maid added shyly, “The Emperor decreed that the wedding be held here in Sushang. The palace has begun preparations…”
“Gossips!” A deep voice cut through the air. Both maids dropped to their knees, trembling.
“Forgive us, Your Highness!”
Yi Xiao exhaled softly. “Don’t blame them. I asked.”
Feng Suige appeared in the doorway, his face shadowed by irritation. With a curt gesture, he dismissed the maids.
Yi Xiao sank onto the edge of the bed, her voice cool and even. “I told you before—there’s no conspiracy against Sushang.”
Feng Suige’s jaw tightened. “Perhaps. But before everything is settled, I’ll trust no one.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “Very well. Once Your Highness marries the princess, and if you don’t intend to silence me, then let me go.”
“Let you go?” He gave a cold laugh. “To do what? Run back to your prince? Even if you did, at most you’d be a concubine.”
Her tone didn’t waver. “So what?”
Feng Suige’s eyes darkened. “Do you think he’ll marry you? In beauty, in status—how could you ever compare to Xiyang?”
Yi Xiao met his gaze steadily. “No need to remind me of my place. I only want to leave this place.”
He stared at her for a long moment before a low chuckle escaped him. “I won’t kill you,” he said, “but I won’t let you go either.”
Yi Xiao’s eyes flashed. “If I wish to leave, Your Highness, even you can’t keep me.”
At that moment, a maid entered nervously with a tray. Feng Suige’s eyes flicked toward the untouched dishes. “She still refuses to eat?”
Before the maid could respond, a cheerful voice rang from the adjoining room.
“You can’t win against her, Brother. Admit defeat—it’ll save you trouble.”
Feng Xiyang appeared, holding up a string of glass beads she’d found among his treasures. “I’m taking this, by the way.”
Feng Suige glared. “Put it back.”
She ignored him and turned to the maid. “How long has it been since she ate?”
The maid hesitated. “Four days, Princess…”
Xiyang froze, her eyes widening. “Four days? Are you trying to starve her to death?”
Feng Suige looked away, discomfort flickering in his expression. “It’s food, not poison. If it were medicine, she’d just spit it out anyway.”
Xiyang groaned, exasperated. “You’re impossible. I’ll check on her myself.”
Yi Xiao was leaning against the brocade couch, her face pale under the morning light.
Xiyang entered softly. “What a stubborn beauty,” she said with a rueful smile. “No wonder my brother can’t sleep.”
Yi Xiao didn’t turn around. “Has the new bride come to persuade me?”
“I know you belong to him,” Xiyang said gently. “And I know you don’t want to see me. But even if you’re angry, you need strength first. Otherwise, how will you compete with me?”
Yi Xiao gave a faint, bitter smile. “I’m not his person, and I have no wish to compete for his affection. I only want to leave Sushang.”
For a moment, Xiyang was speechless. Then she said softly, “At least let me bring you something to eat. I won’t tell him.”
Yi Xiao said nothing, turning her gaze back to the window.
After waiting in vain for an answer, Xiyang sighed and left quietly—only to run into her brother outside. His face was like stone.
“This is between you and her,” she said helplessly. “I can’t help.”
When Feng Suige entered the room again, Yi Xiao sat silently by the couch. He ordered the maid, “If she won’t eat herself, feed her.”
The maid trembled, picking up the silver chopsticks. But before she could take a step, Yi Xiao swept the entire tray off the table. Dishes shattered across the floor.
Her eyes locked on Feng Suige’s.
He let out a short, furious laugh. “For each tray you smash today, I’ll starve you three more days. Go bring new food!”
The maid hesitated, torn between obedience and pity.
Yi Xiao looked at her pale face, then back at Feng Suige. Slowly, she lowered her gaze to the food scattered on the floor.
Then, under their horrified eyes, she bent down, scooped a handful of the dirtied food—and shoved it into her mouth.
The sound of porcelain crunching between her teeth sliced through the silence.
“Yi Xiao!”
Feng Xiyang’s scream echoed from the doorway as she rushed inside. Feng Suige lunged forward, forcing her jaw open, shouting, “You madwoman—spit it out!”
The maid sobbed in terror. Xiyang, trembling, sank to the floor as Yi Xiao spat out a mouthful of bloody fragments and smiled faintly.
“How’s that?” she whispered.
Xiyang clutched her brother’s sleeve, her voice shaking. “Brother, please—stop this. She’ll die.”
Feng Suige’s expression wavered between fury and despair. After a long silence, he finally said hoarsely, “After Xiyang’s wedding… I’ll send you back to Jinxiu.”
His gaze lingered on Yi Xiao for a moment longer—deep, conflicted, unreadable—before he turned and left.
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