“Don’t let me find out again.” The young man’s arm muscles, taut and bulging with anger, betrayed his controlled demeanor. His voice, though hoarse and low, remained steady, each word enunciated with deliberate clarity. “That you harbor any designs on her.”

“Otherwise, next time,” he continued, pressing the blade two inches deeper, “the knife won’t stop here.”

Though not fatal, blood gushed from the wound on Wang Zhou’s neck.

Rong Ting released his grip, his gaze drifting lazily toward the pile of firewood outside the window. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your recent movements.”

Let him act out. Originally, the plan was just to muddy the waters on the Empress’s side.

Had it not been for Wang Zhou’s words today, which struck a nerve, Rong Ting might have continued to bide his time, watching Wang Zhou’s self-important posturing and laughably transparent schemes play out before him.

But today, he had no patience for toying with a rat.

Bending down, Rong Ting picked up the mortar and pestle from the floor. Settling back into his wheelchair, his legs throbbed with searing pain from the earlier exertion, yet his expression remained composed and his posture steady.

He resumed grinding his medicine, his thoughts drifting to the sight from the day before—Jiang Rao’s neck, marked by that bruise.

A purplish-blue blotch, the size of a palm, stood out glaringly against her snow-white, delicate skin. Too stark. Too jarring.

He lowered his gaze, focused intently on grinding the medicine.

The killing intent that had radiated from him moments before dissipated, and the sunlight streaming through the window illuminated his slender frame. Once again, he appeared as the frail, sickly beauty—serene and harmless.

Wang Zhou clutched the wound on his neck while leaning against the wall. His legs trembled as he stood, panting heavily, his chest heaving. Yet his eyes, filled with a mix of terror and disbelief as it remained fixed on Rong Ting as though he were staring at a monster.

All his life, Wang Zhou had relied on brute strength, always the one to dominate others.

If not for the sharp pain radiating from his neck, he might have convinced himself that the events of the past few moments were nothing more than a nightmare.

The thought that the cripple before him was actually a deeply concealed, a ruthless figure that left Wang Zhou’s heart pounding with fear.

This was no weak or helpless invalid.

This was a madman!

Stumbling as though fleeing for his life, he bolted out of the room. Outside, he stared at his blood-streaked hands, his trembling fingers unable to stop shaking.

And yet, the desire to kill Rong Ting burned even hotter within him.

Otherwise, the consequences would be endless.

…

Rong Ting finished grinding the medicine.

He rolled up his sleeves, revealing forearms marked with scars, some faint, others deep. As he moved, the clear contours of his muscles became visible, glistening faintly with a thin sheen of sweat.

Carefully, he poured the powdered medicine into an oiled paper pouch. A subtle, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips—a rare, grounded contentment that he himself didn’t notice.

But then, all of a sudden, his movements slowed. They halted and the faint smile faded from his lips.

Clutching the medicine pouch in his hand, he lowered his gaze in silence.

Would she even need this from him?

Now that his injured legs were beginning to recover, the household no longer lacked rice, flour, or firewood. The pantry was full, and the stove burned steadily, never extinguishing. Everything, as if in a dream, was moving in a better direction.

And it was all because of her.

Yet, despite this abundance, an uneasy restlessness rose in Rong Ting’s heart.

Fear.

He was afraid.

Afraid that what he was sinking into was nothing more than a fleeting illusion, destined to end. Deep down, he was still the same pitiable wretch—unloved, scorned, and bullied. Yet he had foolishly clung to a kindness that could be withdrawn at any moment, mistaking it for everlasting warmth. He had grown greedy for it and even begun to revere it.

But he couldn’t allow himself to fall too deeply.

After a long pause, Rong Ting finally moved.

He wheeled himself into the courtyard.

With a lift of his arm, he raised the paper pouch high and tipped it over.

The powdered medicine spilled out, scattering into the air in a fine, drifting cascade.

In moments, it was gone, carried away completely.

Without a glance, Rong Ting turned his wheelchair back into the house. He tossed the now-empty pouch into the flames.

The fire flared up for a brief instant, its light sharpening the shadows his figure cast upon the floor.

A solitary shadow stretched across the dim floor, trembling faintly with the flickering firelight.

He had retreated once more into that thick, impenetrable shell of his. His slender figure, cloaked in darkness, exuded an aura of unapproachable gloom, warning others to stay away.

He was like a lone ghost, returning to the empty graveyard that only he inhabited, severing all ties with the living world as his gaze was as cold as ice.

…

The setting sun burned like embers.

Jiang Ping, following Jiang Rao’s instructions, had spent the entire day running around town, gathering evidence of Wang Zhou’s crimes, questioning witnesses, and collecting proof. Exhausted, she returned to the Jiang residence and reported back to Jiang Rao.

“Miss, everything you instructed has been taken care of.”

“Just wait a couple more days. That scoundrel will surely get what he deserves—rest assured, Miss.”

Jiang Rao nodded in acknowledgment, signaling her understanding. With that, Jiang Ping withdrew.

Though measures had been taken against Wang Zhou, Jiang Rao still couldn’t shake her unease. Worried that something might go wrong, she instructed a servant to deliver a message to their contacts in the western part of the city, urging them to remain vigilant and keep a close eye on Wang Zhou.

Better safe than sorry.

…

That morning, Wang Zhou woke up unusually early.

As he woke, Wang Zhou reached up to touch the white bandage wrapped around his neck, and his eyes filled with a simmering hatred.

His fingers brushed against the coarse fabric of the bandage, its rough texture and the persistent sting of the wound serving as constant reminders of Rong Ting’s brutality and ruthlessness.

For the past three days, he had been stacking firewood both inside and outside the courtyard.

Everything was ready—just one spark was all it needed.

Still harboring a smoldering grudge, he resolved to ensure nothing could go wrong. He decided to buy enough sleeping powder to drug Rong Ting unconscious before lighting the fire. That way, there would be no chance of failure.

The sky grew brighter.

Wang Zhou made his way early to the storage depot of Ye City, waiting outside.

He was there to collect the monthly wages delivered by the employer’s representative.

Arriving far too early, he found the depot still locked.

With nothing better to do, Wang Zhou squatted by the roadside, idly thinking about what he would say to the person sent to deliver the money.

The person delivering the monthly wages on behalf of the employer was Qin Lian, the steward of the depot and a sixth-rank official in Ye City.

Though Wang Zhou had some influence and connections in the city, he was merely a petty local thug, someone who couldn’t hold his own against an official with a proper government title.

Every time Qin Lian came to deliver the wages and casually inquired about Rong Ting, Wang Zhou found it immensely annoying. Yet, being in a subordinate position, he could do nothing but endure it.

Normally, Wang Zhou would lie and brush off the questions.

But today, he was debating whether to forgo the usual lies.

If he claimed that Rong Ting’s leg injury had suddenly worsened, it would make it more plausible later when Rong Ting failed to escape the fire.

As Wang Zhou mulled over his plan, he spotted Qin Lian’s figure appearing at the far end of the road.

Qin Lian was the only person in Ye City who knew Rong Ting’s true identity.

Before Rong Ting arrived in Ye City, Qin Lian had received a letter from the Fourth Prince, Rong Shen, informing him that the Ninth Prince would be coming to Ye City to recover from his injuries and instructing him to distribute a monthly allowance to the prince.

Qin Lian, a local official, had never heard of the Ninth Prince before receiving the letter. A bit of inquiry revealed only sparse details.

It was said that the Ninth Prince had a lowly birth, his mother having died young, and was the least influential of Emperor Zhao Wu’s sons. Upon learning this, Qin Lian felt no inclination to curry favor.

Still, as a child of the imperial family, Rong Ting warranted some level of respect. Every time Qin Lian distributed the allowance, he couldn’t help but inquire about the prince’s well-being.

The moment Wang Zhou spotted Qin Lian, a sycophantic and greedy smile spread across his face, impossible to conceal. He hurried forward to greet him. “Master Qin, you’re here!”

Eager and impatient, Wang Zhou skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point. “I’ve come to collect the allowance for my young master.”

Qin Lian unlocked the storeroom door with deliberate slowness, just as he always did. As usual, he asked nonchalantly. “How is your young master doing these days?”

Wang Zhou squinted slightly, hesitating as he weighed his words. Following his earlier thoughts, he finally replied. “The young master… perhaps due to the recent cold weather, his leg injury hasn’t improved. In fact, it seems to be causing him more pain than before.”

Qin Lian paused mid-motion as he unlocked the door. “Hurting badly?”

“Yes.” Wang Zhou replied without missing a beat. “Once I collect the allowance today, I’ll buy him some good medicine.”

Qin Lian nodded slightly before turning back to continue opening the door.

As soon as Qin Lian’s back was turned, a look of triumph flashed in Wang Zhou’s eyes. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, already counting the sixteen taels of silver in his mind.

But then, a soft sigh broke the moment.

“Ah, so here you are, Master Qin.”

The voice was coy and syrupy, with a flirtatious lilt that unmistakably belonged to a woman from the pleasure quarters.

Wang Zhou stiffened as soon as he saw the woman’s face.

His expression darkened, and he wished he could bury his head in the dirt to avoid being recognized. Without hesitation, he turned and tried to walk away.

But he was a step too late. The woman’s fingers, painted in a striking purple polish, clamped down on his shoulder and spun him around. Her tone was sharp and fiery as she demanded. “Two months ago, you lost twenty taels of silver gambling at my Changle Manor. You owed me ten and promised to pay it back by the third day of the second month. Yet, here we are, and you’ve been nowhere to be found for an entire month! Wang Zhou, I only agreed to give you an extra month because I know you’re flush with cash at the start of every month. So, where’s my money?”

Wang Zhou hadn’t anticipated such an unexpected complication today.

Two months ago, he had racked up a debt at Madam Qi ‘s gambling house and had originally planned to pay it off last month.

But last month, his sixteen taels of silver had been stolen!

With a panicked expression, Wang Zhou stammered. “Madam Qi please, let me explain—”

“No need for explanations.” Madam Qi interrupted coldly. “It’s the third of the month again, isn’t it? And the official is here with the funds. Just pay me back.”

Ahead of them, Qin Lian’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

Wang Zhou’s body went ice-cold.

At first, he had only been terrified of Madam Qi showing up to demand her money. But now, it dawned on him—she had deliberately come to the depot, to confront him in front of Qin Lian. This wasn’t just about collecting her debt!

If Qin Lian found out that Wang Zhou had been embezzling Rong Ting’s allowance, it would mean certain imprisonment.

Over the past year, Wang Zhou had pocketed nearly two hundred taels. He didn’t know the exact laws of Da Zhao, but he was acutely aware that such a crime would land him in prison—and once inside, he might never come out again!

Wang Zhou was stunned, as if struck by a lightning bolt. Trembling, he tried to gesture with his eyes at Madam Qi, hoping to stop her from saying more.

But he heard her cold laugh. “Why hasn’t the gentleman repaid his debt yet? It’s already the third day of the month. Hasn’t your little master’s monthly allowance all gone straight into your pocket?”

If Wang Zhou had been hoping that Qin Lian wouldn’t catch the underlying meaning in Madam Qi ’s words, that hope was quickly shattered. Now, even the last shred of his dignity had been stripped away.

It was over. He collapsed onto the ground.

…….

Wang Zhou had thought of running, but before he could make a move, the guards near Qin Lian grabbed him and slammed him to the ground. He was quickly arrested.

Since Qin Lian knew of Rong Ting’s true identity and the embezzlement of the prince’s allowance was a serious crime, he ordered a letter to be written and sent to Emperor Zhaowu and the Ministry of Justice. Wang Zhou was then escorted back to the capital, while Qin Lian personally delivered the sixteen taels of silver to Rong Ting.

It was Qin Lian’s first time meeting Rong Ting.

He had expected the prince’s appearance to be unremarkable, just like his humble origins, but to his surprise, the fourteen-year-old boy exuded an undeniable aura, one that could not be concealed even while sitting in a wheelchair.

Rong Ting’s deep, unreadable eyes held his emotions well in check. Even upon hearing of the man who had bullied him for so long finally getting what he deserved, his gaze remained cold and serene. There was no trace of childish anger or impulsiveness on his face, only the composure of someone exceptional.

It made Qin Lian regret even more the fact that the prince’s legs were crippled…

After listening to Qin Lian’s account, Rong Ting asked in a calm voice. “Master Qin, do you know why Madam Qi went to collect the debt from Wang Zhou in person?”

Qin Lian was momentarily stunned. “I thought it was merely a coincidence.”

Rong Ting’s lips curved into a faint smile.

If Madam Qi was really just collecting a debt, why would she appear before Wang Zhou had received the money?

She should have waited until he had the money before demanding repayment.

If her sole purpose was to collect the debt, she didn’t act like it. When Wang Zhou was captured, she wasn’t in a hurry, didn’t panic, and didn’t come to Qin Lian seeking justice. Instead, she quietly left.

That behavior was far from what one would expect from a shrewd gambling house owner.

Rong Ting lowered his eyelids, his long, thick lashes hiding the turbulent thoughts behind his gaze.

After seeing Qin Lian off, Rong Ting wheeled himself out the door.

Jiang Rao instructed Jiang Ping to deliver the set of exquisite headpieces she had arranged for Madam Qi.

Madam Qi, delighted, couldn’t help but admire the delicate jewelry in her hands. She cast a few more glances at Jiang Rao.

She could easily tell that the young woman before her came from a wealthy background. When Jiang Rao gave her the expensive headpieces, she did so without a flicker of hesitation, showing no signs of reluctance.

Madam Qi was also struck by Jiang Rao’s charm—her beauty was so alluring that even women couldn’t help but steal glances. Truly, she was a woman of enviable fortune.

Curious, Madam Qi asked. “Why does Miss Jiang insist on dealing with that scoundrel, Wang Zhou?”

Logically speaking, a young lady from a prominent family like her shouldn’t have any dealings with someone like Wang Zhou. Even if they did cross paths, Wang Zhou would never dare offend her.

Jiang Rao was resting her chin on her hand, gazing out of the window. Leaning against the sill, she replied. “Because he’s been bullying someone I want to protect.”

She huffed in frustration. “No one is allowed to bully the person I want to protect.”

Though she didn’t specify who she meant, Madam Qi had a good idea.

Smiling, Madam Qi said. “Wang Zhou is greedy, to steal nearly two hundred taels from his master. With such a large sum, he’s probably going to spend his whole life in prison, not to mention the conditions there won’t be kind to him. Besides, I heard he’s being escorted to Jinling, where he’s bound to face a harsh punishment.”

Madam Qi suddenly asked, curious. “That young master—could he be from a prominent family? Why else would Wang Zhou be escorted to Jinling for questioning?”

Jiang Rao thought for a moment but shook her head.

No matter how powerful the young man’s family might be, what difference did it make? He still ended up in this miserable situation, unable to even compare to the children of ordinary families.

After chatting for a while, the two of them stepped out of the tavern.

The wind outside was cold. Jiang Rao pulled her cloak tighter around herself as she heard Madam Qi say, “Let me ask one more thing.”

With a smile, she pointed to someone across the street, gesturing for Jiang Rao to look. “Is that, by any chance, the young gentleman you fancy?”

A street apart, Jiang Rao looked up, and in a daze, her gaze met with Rong Ting’s.

=^_^=