Rong Ting noticed that Jiang Rao showed no sign of having just narrowly escaped death. Instead, she looked at the Empress’s assassin with the curiosity of someone observing an oddity…

He furrowed his brows and warned her, “Keep your distance.”

The assassin’s jaw was shattered, and though he writhed in agony, incapable of any real attack, Rong Ting deliberately tried to intimidate her, “Be careful, he might throw another hidden weapon.”

“Another?”

Rong Ting nodded, gesturing toward the tree beside them, “Earlier, he tried to use that weapon to take your life.”

Jiang Rao’s blood ran cold.

So, she had almost lost her life without even knowing it.

She recalled the sound of the stone clashing and the birds startled into flight, a sudden, sharp instinct rising in her. She looked at Rong Ting and asked, “Was it you who saved me?”

“No.”

“The hidden weapon missed because he shot it wrong.”

Rong Ting lowered his gaze, his voice indifferent, “As for his jaw… he hit it himself.”

And with that, he relaxed his arms, letting them dangle limply at the sides of his wheelchair, his eyes half-lidded, looking every bit the picture of innocence.

Jiang Rao stared at the assassin, now writhing on the ground like a helpless worm, and for a moment, she didn’t know whether to believe him.

But then, she thought back to the things she had seen in her dream—his methods had been far more terrifying.

With that thought in mind, his words seemed more believable.

After all, if it had been him taking action, it should’ve been much more cruel.

Yet now, he looked frail and sickly, his presence weak, almost as if he were scared by the assassin’s suffering, his eyes lowered, unable to bear looking directly at it.

Jiang Rao’s lingering doubt quickly faded as she nodded at Rong Ting. She glanced at the assassin, tempted to kick him, muttering, “Those who commit evil will meet their end.”

She looked back at the assassin a few more times, memorizing the silver snake emblem. Curiosity sparked within her. “How do you recognize this pattern?”

She’d never seen an assassin before, but she had read plenty of stories, and from them, she knew that assassins were supposed to blend in with the crowd, unrecognizable, so they could strike without being noticed—leave no trace, and keep their power and name hidden.

Rong Ting answered, “I’ve seen it once before.”

On the day of the autumn hunt, the people sent by the Empress all had this emblem.

“Just once?”

“Mm, I saw a few of them.”

“How clever…”

Jiang Rao couldn’t help but marvel.

Just seeing it once, meeting a few people, and he could identify their shared mark and remember it so clearly—he really was smart.

Rong Ting’s gaze remained calm and unruffled.

…..

The first time Rong Ting was called “smart” was at six years old, when he entered the palace’s school.

The grand tutor, delighted to have such a bright student, praised Rong Ting in front of the Empress, calling him the sharpest of the young princes, with an exceptional memory.

The Empress smiled proudly at the grand tutor’s words, her tone gentle and graceful, before asking six-year-old Rong Ting to thank the grand tutor.

Rong Ting’s voice still held a hint of childhood softness, but it was already more composed than other children his age. “Thank you, Grand tutor.”

However, once back at the Jinxi Palace, Empress Jiahe immediately punished Rong Ting, saying he was arrogant and lacked humility. He was made to kneel in the courtyard for two days.

Whenever his back even slightly bent, he was lashed with thorny branches until he straightened up.

The wounds on his back kept him bedridden for half a month, and when he returned to school, he had fallen behind on his lessons.

Rong Ting tried to tell others that the Empress had beaten him, but no one believed him. Everyone thought Empress Jiahe was gracious and gentle. Her kindness had won them all over, and they took her sweetness as truth.

Later, the grand tutor who had praised Rong Ting resigned and returned to his hometown. A new grand tutor was appointed, and Empress Jiahe often helped Rong Ting take sick leave. As a result, he rarely attended school, and the new grand tutor hardly saw him.

From then on, there were no more praises of Rong Ting’s intelligence in the palace.

….

Jiang Rao accompanied Rong Ting back to the western part of the city.

Rong Ting’s gaze remained fixed on the shadows of the two of them on the ground.

His eyes, thick with emotions that could almost solidify, were so intense that they seemed to form a tangible presence.

Once, Rong Ting thought this was his fate—his legs crippled, no one to save him or pity him, sinking in endless darkness with no escape, no one shedding a tear when he died. In this vast world, surrounded by countless beings, he remained utterly alone, living a life that felt no different from death.

But through that long, endless night, he had finally found the light.

It wasn’t until he saw her life hanging by a thread that he realized—he had someone in this world worth protecting.

….

After escorting Rong Ting back to the western part of the city, Jiang Rao returned to her home.

From a distance, she saw her father and mother waiting at the door.

Her father, especially, stood like a statue of anticipation, his gaze fixed on the road. As soon as he saw her return, he rushed over, asking, “Where did you go today? Why are you back so late?”

Jiang Rao had secretly asked Jiang Ping to summon the servants from the estate without informing her parents. As the only legitimate daughter in the family, she had the authority to assign tasks to the household staff, but she chose not to tell her parents, fearing they might stop her.

Especially after the recent incident where she nearly lost her life, she couldn’t bring herself to tell them. If she did, her father would surely get angry, just like the last time she ventured out of the city without permission.

She cautiously glanced at her father. “I came back from the west side of the city.”

“I told you she went to the west side again, and you said she didn’t!” Fourth Master Jiang turned to his wife, visibly upset. “I said Rao Rao’s thoughts are all on that boy from the west side. Last night, I had a heart-to-heart talk with her, and today she ran off to the west side again. Ai! Ai! My words are becoming less and less effective!”

The old father sighed twice, then suddenly rushed to Jiang Rao’s side, pulling her to look her over. “Are you alright?”

Jiang Rao’s face slowly showed confusion.

Fourth Master Jiang said, “Last night, I had a nightmare. Although I can’t remember the details, it seemed to be about you. I was really worried. Did anything happen to you today, Rao Rao?”

Jiang Rao felt a pang of guilt. “No.”

Because of her guilt, she answered quickly.

“Does a nightmare mean something bad will happen?” Jiang Rao asked curiously.

Could her ability to foresee events in her dreams have been inherited from her father?

Madam Qin said, “Don’t mind your father. He just loves to overthink.”

“Overthink?” Fourth Master Jiang protested. “I’m teaching our daughter proper manners. As a young lady, she should be more reserved. She can’t keep running off to see someone else all the time. She should stay home properly and wait for others to come to her.”

He blamed himself for being too lenient, raising his daughter to be so free-spirited that she didn’t turn into the kind of refined young lady who would spend her days embroidering at home.

“Father!” Jiang Rao exclaimed, sensing that her father still misunderstood her as being infatuated with someone. “Stop talking as if I’m eager to get married. I’ve never even thought about my own marriage.”

Fourth Master Jiang snorted. “Then why do you keep running off to the west side of the city every day?”

Jiang Rao sighed in frustration and explained, “I just see that he lives alone, without family or servants to take care of him. His leg is badly injured, and he seems so pitiful. I just want to keep him company.”

Madam Qin chimed in, “Our daughter has a kind heart and feels sorry for that boy. What’s wrong with that?”

“Just feeling sorry for him?” Fourth Master Jiang’s anger subsided a little. He added, “There’s also an old father here, getting on in years, whose daughter keeps running off instead of staying home to keep him company, that’s pitiful too.”

Jiang Rao: “…”

In recent days, her father had been throwing tantrums one after another, and she was starting to figure out the pattern.

She stepped forward and flatteringly hugged his arm. “Father, would you like to paint today? I can grind the ink for you.”

Fourth Master Jiang was pleased. “Not so pitiful now.”

…

Night had fallen.

West side of the city.

Although Jiang Rao had sent people over, Rong Ting had dismissed them to the back of the house.

One of the servants asked Jiang Ping, “The young lady asked us to ensure the safety of the young master, but he said it wasn’t necessary. What if something happens?”

Jiang Ping replied, “I noticed that although the young master looks pale and sickly, his posture is upright. He doesn’t have the usual decaying, despondent air of someone who’s seriously ill.”

At most, his appearance was a bit too striking, almost unnaturally beautiful.

“Maybe he can handle things himself,” Jiang Ping said. “We’ll just stay outside and keep watch. If we hear anything unusual, we’ll rush in. We won’t let anything happen to him, and we’ll definitely be able to report back to the young lady.”

Inside the room, charcoal burned brightly in the stove, casting two shadows on the white walls.

One figure hung from the beam.

It was the green-clad assassin.

The other figure stood at the opposite end of the room.

Rong Ting sat by the stove.

The flickering firelight illuminated his face, alternating between light and shadow.

A dagger was in his hand, and he meticulously, unhurriedly wiped the bloodstains from it.

^_^