Feng Xiyang lay motionless in bed, beginning to dread the pale blue dawn light that filtered through the window lattice like watered silk. Daybreak meant yesterday had slipped away forever, and another achingly lonely day would sweep away yet another green leaf of her precious youth like autumn wind.
Her body was gradually healing, knitting itself back together, but her spirit remained utterly listless—a hollow shell. Since that devastating day, Xia Jingshi had not returned after leaving, and she no longer possessed the courage to send someone to invite him. He didn't care about her presence. Pursuing him further would only bring deeper humiliation upon herself, piling shame upon shame.
After an unmeasured passage of time, she suddenly heard the urgent commotion of running footsteps outside her chambers. Feng Xiyang instinctively strained to hear, catching fragments of panicked words drifting in through the walls: "…coughing blood… fetch the physician immediately…"
Coughing blood. Physician.
Who in this entire royal city would cough blood and cause such wholesale panic among the servants?!
Only one person.
Feng Xiyang abruptly sat bolt upright. Sudden dizziness accompanied by crushing darkness pressed down on her like a physical weight. The room tilted dangerously. She swayed precariously and tumbled to the floor in an ungraceful heap.
The maid stationed outside heard the crash and pushed open the door to investigate, arriving just in time to witness Feng Xiyang struggling to rise from the ground like a wounded bird. She couldn't suppress her exclamation of alarm and rushed over to provide support. "Princess! How did you fall? Are you injured?"
Feng Xiyang scrambled upright with the maid's assistance but immediately grabbed her arm with desperate strength, fingers digging in. "Who's coughing blood? Tell me—I heard someone's coughing blood!"
The maid hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her face. "This servant isn't entirely certain, but judging from the chaos and panic, it appears to be His Highness…"
Before the words fully left her lips, Feng Xiyang had already wrenched her hand free and bolted from the room.
"Princess! Princess, wait! Put on proper clothes! Your shoes! Your body hasn't fully recovered—you absolutely cannot catch a chill in this condition…" The maid's voice rose in distress as she frantically grabbed the embroidered shoes from the floor and the plain silk cloak hanging beside the bed, then gave chase.
Heedless of propriety, utterly blind to who she might collide with along the way, Feng Xiyang ran through the elaborate corridors and elegant pavilions as if demons pursued her. Several maids trailed far behind, their increasingly desperate calls completely unheard, swallowed by the wind and her pounding heartbeat.
"What does it matter if he doesn't care about me? Was it truly just that small setback that made you forget everything you solemnly promised Father before the wedding?"
The thought crashed through Feng Xiyang's mind hazily as wind whistled past her ears, stinging her eyes.
Not knowing his precise location, she would search every corner herself if necessary. Once she found him—when she found him—she had to tell him directly, face to face, that no matter what cold indifference he showed, no matter how he rejected her, she would not surrender. Would not let go.
Love, at its most profound depths, becomes inherently blind to reason. One day, through sheer stubborn persistence, she would uproot Fu Yixiao from his heart completely. She had to believe this.
Someone emerged from around a corner ahead. She instinctively tried to dodge but reacted a beat too slow, crashing heavily into that person's solid embrace. Immediately, a pair of unexpectedly strong arms encircled her waist, preventing her fall.
She struggled violently and screamed with raw desperation, "Let me go! I need to see him immediately!"
"I'll take you to see him," Xiao Weiran's calm, steady voice cut through her panic. "But you need to return to your room first and put on some proper attire."
Xiyang's frantic heart settled fractionally, and she suddenly realized she'd nearly exhausted herself from running. If not for Xiao Weiran supporting her weight, she would have likely collapsed directly to the cold ground.
Feng Xiyang adamantly refused to waste precious time returning to her chambers. Instead, she hurriedly followed behind Xiao Weiran, hastily wrapping herself in the cloak her breathless maid had brought. Xiao Weiran didn't speak again, only walking ahead at a deliberately measured pace—neither too fast nor too slow—that she could reasonably maintain.
They passed through the inner palace's maze-like passages. Xiao Weiran led her unerringly toward the study. The air grew faintly perfumed with the distinctive scent of perilla and sandalwood incense—herbs known for their mind-clearing and calming properties. Feng Xiyang's flagging spirits lifted marginally, and she quickened her pace to close the distance between them.
Turning a corner, she was entirely unsurprised to see a considerable crowd gathered anxiously at the study door. Many soldiers and attendants stood clustered on the stone steps, craning their necks to peer inside with obvious worry etched across their features.
Seeing Xiao Weiran's arrival, relief visibly washed across many faces. One particularly anxious military officer had already hurried over. "Advisor Xiao, quickly go inside and assess the situation… Why is she here?"
His sharp gaze fell upon Feng Xiyang, showing unmistakable rejection and disapproval.
"I encountered the Princess along the way, so we came together," Xiao Weiran said with deliberate casualness as he walked inside, his tone suggesting this was perfectly normal. "How is His Highness's condition?"
The officer strode beside him, answering in hushed urgency, "The court physician has already gone inside to examine him. Several others wanted to enter as well, but we feared disturbing His Highness with excessive numbers crowding the space. Everyone's waiting outside."
Xiao Weiran nodded briefly and quickly ascended the stone steps, gently pushing open the heavy wooden door.
Feng Xiyang followed close behind with her head bowed low, acutely aware of the various penetrating gazes cast upon her—some curious, some judgmental, some pitying. The combined weight made her feel frozen from head to toe, inside and out. Her hands had long since turned to ice.
A large, colorful felt carpet covered the study floor, muffling footsteps. On one side of the spacious entrance hall was a side room concealed by hanging brocade curtains and delicate pearl strings that created a curtain of light. Xiao Weiran walked forward without pause, then suddenly let out a low exclamation of surprise.
What kind of scene would await beyond that curtain? A face drained bloodless and pale as death? Skin covered in cold sweat? Teeth clenched against unbearable pain?
Feng Xiyang reached out with trembling fingers to lift the brocade curtain, her heart suddenly lodged firmly in her throat, threatening to choke her—
Almost simultaneously, a familiar gentle voice sounded from within, carrying unexpected strength. "It's nothing serious. Why is everyone making such an excessive fuss— Why are you here as well?"
That final sentence was directed squarely at Xiyang.
It felt as if all the strength and tension had been abruptly drained from her body in one devastating rush. Xiyang leaned heavily against the doorframe for support, hot tears already welling up and spilling over. "What happened to you? Tell me truthfully."
The elderly physician standing nearby replied softly with professional calm, "His Highness has severely overworked himself for an extended period. What he expelled was merely stagnant blood that had accumulated. It's genuinely nothing serious—nothing life-threatening. He simply requires plenty of rest and proper care, and he'll recover fully."
Xia Jingshi made a small sound of acknowledgment. "I've troubled you to make this journey on my behalf, sir. I'm truly apologetic. Ning Fei, please escort the physician out properly."
Only at that moment did Feng Xiyang's scattered attention register that Ning Fei and Ling Xueying were also standing nearby, having been present throughout. Ning Fei answered with a respectful bow and led the physician toward the exit. Xueying cast a distinctly cold glance at Feng Xiyang—one loaded with unspoken accusation—before following them out. Xiao Weiran hesitated briefly, reading the room, before also quietly withdrawing.
Suddenly, only Xia Jingshi and Feng Xiyang remained in the intimate space.
The silence pressed down like a physical presence.
Xia Jingshi reached out to help her settle onto the soft couch with careful hands. "If your body hasn't fully recovered its strength, you shouldn't be walking around so recklessly. You'll relapse."
Xiyang sank down in a daze, her gaze involuntarily drawn to the few telltale spots of fresh blood staining his collar—bright crimson against pale fabric. "Are you truly alright? You're not hiding worse injuries?"
"The physician already said it's nothing to cause concern," he replied with that familiar cool smile, then turned away. "Sit here comfortably for a while. I'll have someone prepare a soft sedan to carry you back to your chambers safely."
Xiyang stared blankly at his retreating figure, memorizing every line.
She had finally seen him again after days of separation—still possessing that achingly familiar cool gentleness that had first captured her heart. But the smile that failed to reach his eyes, that remained frozen on his lips without warmth, brought an icy coldness that flowed through her blood like winter water, surging into her heart and stirring her very viscera with physical pain.
It hurt. Everything hurt.
In the end, she still lacked the courage to call him back, to demand he stay, to beg for even a crumb of genuine attention. The delicate beads strung beneath the curtain clinked softly as he disappeared through them, the sound like breaking glass.
After properly seeing off the court physician with appropriate courtesy, Ning Fei finally couldn't restrain his complaints any longer. "You didn't listen to a single word I said during our entire journey here, and the one critical thing I explicitly told you not to mention, you blurted out as your very first statement. I think you're deliberately trying to anger His Highness to death. Is that your goal?"
Though not fully understanding the specific context, Xiao Weiran's sharp gaze fell directly on Xueying with dawning comprehension.
Xueying looked genuinely remorseful now, guilt written across her features. "If I had known he would react by coughing up blood, I wouldn't have phrased it so bluntly. How disgusting to see blood like that…"
"You…" Ning Fei was utterly exasperated, throwing his hands up. "Why don't you just kill me with frustration while you're at it! Save me the slow death!"
Turning his head, he met Xiao Weiran's increasingly questioning gaze head-on. Ning Fei released a long, weary sigh. "This morning, we received a letter from Yixiao—it arrived through a merchant caravan traveling the trade routes. She asked Xueying to help retrieve some personal belongings from the Fu family estate, and also requested that His Highness return her glass hairpin to her."
He paused, running a hand through his hair. "It's partially my fault too. Xueying was reading the letter beside me, so I casually asked about that person Xushe's recent situation and general news. The messenger simply mentioned that apart from the prince wanting to marry the girl you people from Jinxiu left behind there, nothing else particularly major had occurred."
Ning Fei's expression darkened with the memory. "As soon as Xueying heard those words, she dropped the letter as if burned and immediately wanted to rush into the city. I chased after her the entire way, repeatedly telling her to just fabricate some simple excuse to ask for the hairpin's return and absolutely not to mention Yixiao's impending marriage directly to His Highness. She agreed quite readily and convincingly."
His voice took on a bitter edge. "But the moment she entered the study, she blurted out to His Highness without preamble: 'Yixiao is going to marry Feng Suige. She wants you to return her glass hairpin.' His Highness's face immediately transformed—all color draining away—and he coughed up a mouthful of blood without even setting down the book in his hand first."
Xueying bristled defensively, pointing directly at Ning Fei and demanding to his face, "Don't keep blindly defending your precious prince! Put your hand on your heart and tell me with complete honesty—if it weren't for Xia Jingshi's decisions and actions, how would Yixiao have been abducted to that place? And how could she have ended up unable to return from Xushe?"
Her voice rose with passionate conviction. "She's such an incredibly stubborn, proud person. For her to marry Feng Suige at a time like this—do you genuinely think her life there will be easy? That she'll be happy?" She paused for emphasis. "Moreover, if I don't inform Xia Jingshi about Yixiao's marriage now, will he somehow never discover it? Secrets like this don't stay buried forever!"
Ning Fei stood speechless, too angry for coherent response, jaw working silently.
Xiao Weiran gently pulled Xueying two steps away from the brewing confrontation and said softly with diplomatic care, "What Xueying said isn't entirely wrong. It's genuinely impossible to keep such significant news secret indefinitely. But Xueying shouldn't have delivered both pieces of information together in one breath like that. The way it was phrased made it sound as if Yixiao is deliberately cutting all ties with His Highness permanently."
Although Xueying possessed a naturally stubborn temperament, she also felt genuine guilt stirring in her chest now. She mumbled defensively, "Then… then what should we do at this point? The words have already been spoken—they can't be unsaid. Should I go back inside and explain to him that Yixiao didn't intend the message to sound so final and cold?"
Xiao Weiran shook his head decisively. "No need for that. Honestly, I think Yixiao probably did mean it exactly that way—meant to create distance." He fell silent briefly, contemplating. "Anyway, since it's already passed and the damage is done, there's no benefit in explaining further. It's just…"
He pondered more deeply, then looked up to meet two pairs of thoroughly puzzled eyes watching him expectantly. "Don't you think something about this entire situation doesn't add up? Something feels wrong."
Ning Fei's brows furrowed dramatically into the shape of a river character. "Could it possibly be that Xushe has already harmed Yixiao in some way, and sending a letter requesting her belongings is merely an elaborate pretense? A trick?"
Xueying angrily punched his arm with considerable force. "You really cannot say anything remotely positive or hopeful! You…"
She suddenly stopped mid-tirade and made a small sound of realization, turning to look at Xiao Weiran with widening eyes. "Actually, you're right—something genuinely doesn't make logical sense here." Her voice dropped to something approaching wonder. "He cares so desperately much about Yixiao, guards her so fiercely in his heart… so why has he absolutely refused to marry her no matter what arguments anyone presents? What's truly stopping him?"
The question hung in the air like smoke, unanswered but demanding resolution.
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