Truth be told, Ji Bozai was the most devastatingly handsome man Ming Yi had ever laid eyes on. But it wasn't merely his striking features that commanded attention—it was the yuan power radiating from him, rich and abundant, fathomless as an ocean. Any practitioner would covet such strength. The thought that crystallized in her mind was simple yet chilling: if such a man chose goodness, the world would know peace. But if he didn't...
Ice crept down her spine even as her smile bloomed brighter. "I was just wondering what kind of woman could possibly be worthy of a celestial being like you, my lord?"
Such frivolous pondering was typical of young women.
His low chuckle vibrated against her as his hand traced lazy patterns along her waist. "Naturally, someone like you."
Nonsense. He says that to everyone.
She rolled her eyes before turning back with a dazzling smile. "I am truly honored."
"Lord Ji!"
A woman's voice cut through their bubble. Ming Yi looked down to see an elegantly dressed figure approaching, wine cup in hand, her eyes fixed on Ji Bozai with naked longing before narrowing at Ming Yi with barely concealed displeasure.
Ji Bozai glanced up, his expression cooling to polite indifference. "What is it?"
"I haven't had the chance to pay my respects in so long." The woman's voice carried a wounded edge. "Seeing you here, I thought I'd come over." Her gaze flickered to Ming Yi with thinly veiled resentment. "Congratulations on finding another beauty."
The woman's jewels caught the light—clearly someone of considerable status. Had she, too, warmed his bed?
Ming Yi's mind reeled, but Ji Bozai remained unmoved, detached as frost. "Thank you, Madam Zhou."
Madam Zhou's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but propriety and the crowd's watchful gaze kept her composed. She drained her wine in one swift motion, cast him a lingering look laden with unspoken history, and retreated to her seat.
When Ji Bozai turned back, he found his current companion studying him with eyes that sparkled with poorly concealed fascination.
"What strange thoughts are running through that head of yours now?" he asked, amusement coloring his tone.
Ming Yi clasped her hands together with barely contained glee. "My lord has always maintained such an excellent reputation. I imagine you treat your former companions with great generosity."
Perhaps he arranged advantageous marriages for them, or provided houses and wealth. If they all left him as jewel-bedecked as Madam Zhou, then surely his philandering ways could be forgiven—even admired.
Hope gleamed in her eyes, shameless and bright.
A spike of irritation lanced through Ji Bozai. He'd been remarkably generous with her, hadn't held her accountable for anything, and here she was already mentally rehearsing her exit strategy, calculating her compensation package like some merchant tallying accounts.
Had all those tender moments, those nights of passion, been nothing but performance on her part?
He was accustomed to playing others—a master at the game. But this little thing dared to try playing him?
Wishful thinking.
He withdrew his hand with practiced subtlety, donning a gentle smile as he served her a delicate morsel. "How could someone as enchanting as you possibly become a former companion? Are you worried I've already lost interest?"
He let the word "interest" hang in the air, heavy with implication.
Heat flooded Ming Yi's ears as her lips twitched involuntarily. "My lord is too modest."
The man was in exemplary health—devastatingly so. These past days, he'd been as ravenous as a starved wolf, nearly devouring her whole. Lost interest? Hardly.
"Then perhaps..." He sighed with theatrical melancholy, long lashes casting shadows across his cheekbones. "Perhaps I've been in a foul mood lately, and my temperament has caused you concern. It's my fault."
An inexplicable shiver ran through Ming Yi.
This man was gentle, pleasing to behold, even kinder than before—yet somehow, that very sweetness terrified her more than any harsh word ever could.
"My lord is a dragon among men. How could you speak so to someone like me?" She quickly nestled into his embrace, reaching for the wine to serve him, playing the devoted companion.
Ji Bozai gazed down at her upturned face. "You truly don't blame me?"
How would I dare?
Ming Yi forced brightness into her smile. "I've never blamed you, my lord. Not once."
"You are the gentlest woman I've ever encountered." Satisfaction curved his lips as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, tender as a benediction.
Women at nearby tables craned their necks, envy written plainly across their faces as they studied Ming Yi's attire—the mist-colored pleated skirt, the intricate jewelry—cataloging every detail while whispering behind raised fans.
Within days, the main city would be swept by a tide of fashion, everyone clamoring for pleated skirts in that exact shade of mist and accessories matching those favored by Lord Ji's latest conquest. But that was a story for another time.
At that moment, Ming Yi's anxiety mounted. Ji Bozai's behavior at the palace was concerning enough, but when they returned to the villa, his attentiveness intensified to suffocating levels. He even insisted on taking her to his private study.
Ming Yi shook her head frantically. "I can't walk anymore."
"No problem." He swept her up effortlessly, as though she weighed nothing. "I'll carry you."
"..."
His chest was firm as stone, his arms corded with lean muscle, carrying her through the moonlit courtyard without so much as a quickened breath. But pressed against him, Ming Yi felt the shadow of death looming closer with each step. Her mind conjured vivid scenarios of her demise—each more gruesome than the last.
Is there any way to save myself?
"My lord." Bu Xiu's voice preceded him as he entered from the outer courtyard. He stopped short at the sight of her cradled in Ji Bozai's arms, words dying on his lips.
Ji Bozai's tone remained casual. "It's fine. Speak."
"Half an hour ago, the fire at the East Street pharmacy was successfully extinguished." Bu Xiu's report was clinical, matter-of-fact. "The shopkeeper and several clerks didn't make it out."
Ming Yi's ears perked up despite her desire to remain oblivious.
Why would such a mundane civilian matter warrant reporting to him?
Dread crystallized in her gut. She struggled against his hold. "My lord, I really should go change—"
Ji Bozai's arms tightened, pinning her in place as he continued his conversation as though she were merely decorative furniture. "Did the magistrate dispatch anyone?"
"Zheng Tiao acted with commendable speed. The magistrate hasn't traced the incident back to the pharmacy yet."
Ming Yi: "..."
Understanding crashed over her like a tidal wave.
Oh. Oh no.
Tears pricked her eyes as she clamped her hands over her ears, trembling like a leaf in a storm.
This isn't something the living should hear. This is the kind of knowledge that gets people killed.
But Ji Bozai gently pulled her hands away from her ears with infuriating tenderness, continuing his instructions as though discussing the weather. "Keep eyes on the magistrate's office. Report any developments."
"Yes, my lord."
The door closed with a soft click. Bu Xiu's footsteps faded. Ming Yi remained frozen in Ji Bozai's arms, trembling like a cornered quail, her survival instincts screaming.
"What are you so afraid of?" His fingers traced her cheek with disturbing gentleness. "I trust you. That's why I brought you into this discussion."
Ming Yi's face had drained of all color, her lips trembling uncontrollably. "Thank you, my lord."
Thank you and your entire ancestral line for dragging me into murder and arson conspiracies.
His thumb brushed across her quivering lips as he sighed, almost fondly. "Aren't you curious why I do these things?"
No! Not even slightly!
Ming Yi shook her head with violent emphasis, but he seemed to interpret the gesture inversely, nodding with satisfaction. "Since you're so curious, I'll tell you."
Tell me nothing! I want to hear nothing!
Her brows furrowed into anxious caterpillars as she attempted to struggle free, but he pressed her neck firmly, trapping her against his lap with inescapable strength.
"Once upon a time, there was a wealthy, powerful family." His voice took on the cadence of a storyteller, soft and almost hypnotic. "They adopted many orphans from the slave market—unwanted children, throwaways. They taught them martial arts, fed them, clothed them. Their kindness seemed boundless."
He paused, his fingers now playing with her earlobe, the gesture intimate and possessive.
"But the family's eldest daughter—gentle, virtuous, quiet as morning mist—was falsely accused by several physicians of infidelity. Slandered and destroyed by lies."
His grip tightened fractionally.
"On one orphan's birthday, the family was raided by authorities. Exiled. Destroyed. And that gentle, quiet eldest daughter died right before the orphan's eyes."
The words hung in the air, weighted with old grief and burning vengeance.
He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Tell me—should that orphan seek revenge for them? For the only family who ever showed him kindness?"
Ming Yi's trembling stilled. Her heart clenched with unexpected emotion.
He experienced this? He lived through this nightmare?
If someone had destroyed her family in such a manner, she would burn the world for revenge too—though perhaps with less audacity than murdering people under the magistrate's very nose.
Her body relaxed incrementally as she looked up at him with dawning sympathy. "My lord... do you have no parents?"
Ji Bozai's eyes lowered with practiced vulnerability. "I was born in the slave market."
The slave market—that hell on earth where overseers wielded whips like instruments of orchestra and children labored under impossible burdens, their childhoods crushed beneath the weight of others' greed.
Guilt twisted in Ming Yi's chest like a blade.
If not for me, he wouldn't have endured any of this.
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