The guards in the Prince’s residence had seen every kind of woman — spoiled young mistresses, fiery courtesans, and those with powerful backers. None had ever given them trouble they couldn’t crush with brute strength.
Yet today, they were beaten — and by the frailest-looking woman of all.
The leader spat blood and disbelief. “Even a tiger can’t fight four wolves at once!”
A mere woman — could she really overturn them on their own turf?
Ming Yi brushed back a strand of hair, her calm expression concealing the tension in her chest. Once, she would have faced ten of them without blinking. But things were different now — she had to be cautious.
These servants had no elemental power, only raw muscle, but in this narrow corridor, they still had the advantage.
As they lunged, Ming Yi raised her hand. Six luminous orbs spun into existence — gentle at first, then crashing down like mountains. Two men screamed as they were slammed into the stone floor, foam at their lips.
The third barely dodged, swinging a club toward her head.
Ming Yi’s fingers curled — a whip of pure energy took form, its nine sections glinting like molten gold. She cracked it once; the club splintered. With another flick, the whip coiled around the man’s neck.
Then she paused — and, with deliberate mercy, loosened her grip, tossing him aside instead of ending him.
A fourth man crept up behind her. Without turning, she kicked backward. The impact sent him flying into the wall.
The air smelled of dust and sweat. Her heavy dress clung to her skin; sweat trickled down her temple, carrying the faint scent of powder.
She sighed. “Really?”
Pulling out a compact mirror, she calmly retouched her makeup amid the groans of fallen men.
Then — a sharp gasp echoed nearby.
Startled, Ming Yi angled her mirror to look behind. Reflected in the glass was a young boy’s face — wide-eyed, stunned.
Her heart sank. She hadn’t even sensed his presence.
Before she could react further, laughter drifted in from the courtyard. Shu Zhonglin’s mocking voice carried over:
“I told you, the new girl’s figure is worth seeing. Don’t believe me? Xiuyuan can take you next time.”
They were coming closer.
Ming Yi’s mind raced. In a split second, she dashed to the bewildered boy and knelt, clutching his sleeve.
“Thank you, young master, for saving me!” she exclaimed, voice trembling perfectly.
The boy, barely fourteen or fifteen, blinked. “M-Miss?”
“You were so brave just now,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll be sure to tell Lord Ji to reward you!”
Just then, Ji Bozai turned the corner. Her words hit him first — and soothed the unease in his chest.
It was said that women adored heroes, yet Ming Yi — clever girl — had immediately credited him instead, preserving his pride and loyalty.
He liked that. Men like him always did.
Ming Yi curtsied deeply. “My lord, to avoid misunderstanding, I shall take my leave.”
She rose, her skirt swirling like a peony petal, only to stumble — right into Ji Bozai’s chest. Her voice trembled with well-timed fragility. “My lord!”
Ji Bozai steadied her, eyes sweeping over the unconscious men. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” she whimpered, pinching her thigh to summon tears. “A maid said the Princess invited me to the back courtyard to watch a play… and then they attacked. Luckily, this young master saved me!”
The fallen guards could only gape. Was this the same woman who had flattened them moments ago?
The boy — Situ Ling — scratched his head, confused but secretly thrilled to be called a hero by such a pretty lady.
He clasped his hands toward Ji Bozai. “Situ Ling, passing by, sir. No need to thank me.”
Ji Bozai’s eyes narrowed, then softened. “To wield such elemental power at your age — impressive. You have a bright future.”
Coming from him, it was high praise. Shu Zhonglin and the others exchanged curious glances as Ji Bozai turned away, guiding Ming Yi back himself.
“Are you hurt?” he asked quietly.
Ming Yi leaned slightly against him, voice gentle. “No. But my lord seems troubled — what’s wrong?”
Her question made his steps falter. The unresolved matter from earlier still weighed on his mind, but he masked it with indifference. “Just tired from the wine.”
She smiled faintly. “Then let me see you back.”
The moon shone high above, bathing them in pale silver. Ming Yi walked by his side, her fragrance soft, almost fragile.
After a long silence, Ji Bozai spoke again. “Why didn’t you ask me to find out who wanted to harm you?”
She kept her eyes down. “Who else could it be? Only someone with status can move freely through the Prince’s residence. Compared to her, what am I? If I make a scene, I’ll only trouble you.”
Her words were humble, but her tone was measured — just the right amount of helplessness to please a man like him.
He chuckled quietly. “You take it lightly.”
“I’m here to serve, not to be served,” Ming Yi said softly. “As long as I live, I won’t burden you. Rest assured, my lord.”
Her restraint pleased him. His mood visibly lifted.
Ming Yi felt the shift in his expression — and shivered inside. Had she gone too far in her act?
Before she could think further, her stomach let out a tiny hiccup.
Ji Bozai arched an eyebrow. “Still hungry?”
She blushed, lowering her gaze. “I’m still frightened… and my lord teases me.”
He laughed and drew her close again.
They returned to the banquet, appearing as affectionate as before.
But as she stared at the dishes before her — she couldn’t eat.
Something gnawed at her. The inner courtyard feast, the dancers, the officials… She remembered who had stood closest to the deceased that night — Wei Hongfei and Zou Wancheng.
They had both toasted the same person.
Her pulse quickened. She glanced at Ji Bozai beside her.
Calm, elegant, dangerously unreadable.
When he caught her gaze, he smiled faintly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she murmured.
But her mind was already racing.
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