Empress Jiahe’s lips curved into a pleased smile, her mood clearly lifted.

The foreign envoy swept his gaze around the hall and aske. “Where is the Ninth Prince? Why hasn’t he come out to compete?”

After the second round of drinks, Empress Jiahe was too relaxed and let her true thoughts slip out without realizing it. “His legs are crippled. How could he possibly compete?”

The banquet fell into an abrupt, deathly silence.

Emperor Zhaowu turned to Empress Jiahe with a cold, piercing gaze.

Only then did the empress realize her mistake.

She quickly attempted to recover, speaking with feigned sorrow. “During last autumn’s hunt, the Ninth Prince was attacked by assassins and sustained injuries. He has yet to fully recover if he were to compete now and aggravate his wounds, it would hinder his recovery. This empress could not bear the thought.”

The emperor’s expression softened slightly. “How could my son be a cripple? It was merely an injury, nothing serious.”

The foreign envoy, however, was perplexed by Empress Jiahe’s earlier remark. “This is the same prince who defeated our most formidable warrior. What kind of assassin could inflict such an injury on him?”

Emperor Zhaowu narrowed his eyes slightly and shifted his gaze toward the empress seated beside him.

When the assassination attempt occurred during the autumn hunt and Rong Ting was injured, the investigation that followed had been entirely handled by Empress Jiahe herself.

Upon hearing the envoy’s question, a heavy feeling sank into the empress’s heart.

The assassin who injured Rong Ting had been a death soldier from Empress Jiahe’s maternal family, the Xu clan.

This was a secret that absolutely could not be revealed to the emperor.

Tears glimmered in her eyes as she feigned the appearance of a grieving, furious mother. “The assassin took poison and died to escape punishment. How pitiful for my poor Ninth Prince, to suffer such an injustice and endure such pain.”

The foreign envoy, noticing her pained expression, offered a comforting inquiry. “How has the Ninth Prince’s recovery been of late?”

Emperor Zhaowu tapped his fingers lightly on the table, signaling Empress Jiahe to answer.

Her performance was flawless, as always. She composed herself, her expression softening into one of gentle care. “Thank you for your concern, my lord. This empress sought out the best physicians and the finest medicines for him. His recovery has been quite good.”

She truly seemed like a devoted and protective mother.

The foreign envoy laughed heartily. “That’s wonderful to hear! Perhaps next year, our warrior can spar with him again.”

Emperor Zhaowu joined in the laughter, replying. “Certainly.”

Afterward, the emperor summoned a eunuch and instructed him to send someone to check on Rong Ting.

At this moment, Emperor Zhaowu found himself unexpectedly longing for his son, whom he had never paid much attention to before.

If only Rong Ting would return to the capital before next year, he could at least restore the emperor’s pride in the competition.

The emperor’s instructions to the eunuch were overheard by Empress Jiahe, who immediately darkened in worry.

She feared that Emperor Zhaowu might have sensed something.

After the banquet ended, she rushed back to her Jiuxiu Palace, her face filled with urgency. She called for her trusted confidant and coldly ordered. “Take care of the matter with the emperor sending someone to check on Rong Ting.”

“And go to Ye City. Investigate what exactly is going on with Rong Ting there.”

She had originally thought that with such severe injuries, and surrounded only by a former local thug turned servant—someone known for his gluttony and gambling—Rong Ting would have no means of recovery, no one to turn to, and would surely not survive the year.

But she never expected him to be so resilient. She still had not received news of his death!

A cold, harsh gleam flickered in Empress Jiahe’s eyes.

No matter what, Empress Jiahe would never allow Rong Ting to reappear next year, as Emperor Zhaowu had hoped.

The next day, the snow had cleared and the sky was bright.

After finishing breakfast, Jiang Rao was about to leave, but was promptly scolded by Fourth Master Jiang. He told her that everyone in the city was talking about her, and that parents were using her as an example to warn their children not to be too reckless and wander up the mountain. If she went out, she’d only become a laughingstock!

Jiang Rao: “…”

Unable to argue with Fourth Master Jiang, she reluctantly stayed in her courtyard, idly flipping through a storybook.

In the book, there was a plot about a young lady from a prestigious family who was arrogant, overbearing, and cruel to the servants. Eventually, her family fell into ruin, and she ended up marrying one of the servants she had once mistreated. From then on, she could no longer act with such arrogance.

Jiang Rao clicked her tongue in disbelief, thinking how unfortunate for the servant to end up marrying such a malicious woman but then she grew serious, feeling as though the story was a reminder for her.

If one bullies others too much, the consequence could be a downfall in life. It felt eerily similar to the fate she had dreamt of herself.

Fortunately, she had turned back in time.

At that moment, a figure appeared in the courtyard.

Because he was sitting in a wheelchair, he appeared shorter than most people, yet his posture was straight and dignified. Combined with his flawless, handsome face, he immediately stood out, creating a contrast with everyone else—while others were still grounded in the mundane world, he seemed to belong to another realm entirely.

When Jiang Rao saw Rong Ting, she rushed to open the door before her maid could do so.

But upon noticing what he was holding, her footsteps abruptly halted, and a look of fear slowly spread across her face.

Why had he come… and brought medicine with him?

Rong Ting noticed her gaze and, before she could ask, he seemed to read her mind and explained. “I ran into your mother just now. She asked me to…”

“Asked you to watch me drink the medicine.” Jiang Rao guessed with certainty.

Her parents both spoiled her, but when it came to her mother, Jiang Rao couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated.

It seemed her mother always found a way to hold something over her, and her father was also afraid of her.

But after the dreadful taste of the medicine the previous day, Jiang Rao felt a strong aversion. She looked up at Rong Ting with pleading eyes, trying to appeal to him, her voice soft and pitiful as she begged. “The medicine was so bitter I thought I would throw up. Can I not drink it?”

The morning light had brightened the sky, and the soft, golden rays of dawn bathed her face, making her cheeks look as pure and clean as polished rice grains.

Rong Ting’s gaze, however, fell on the back of her neck.

The pale, jade-like skin was marked with a dark bruise, stretching down beneath her collar.

This was from when the carriage had tumbled off the cliff, and Jiang Rao had been struck by a falling rock on her back, leaving behind the bruise.

The injury was on her back, and aside from occasional pain, Jiang Rao had largely forgotten about it.

Rong Ting’s gaze lingered on the bruise, his voice low and firm, leaving no room for argument. “Drink the medicine.”

Jiang Rao stomped her foot mentally.

She knew it was useless to try reasoning with him.

It had always been useless, and it was still useless now.

Reluctantly, she picked up the bowl of medicine. The last time, she had bravely swallowed the bitter brew without knowing just how awful it would taste. But now, seeing the bowl and recalling the bitterness that had almost reached her core, her face twisted in dread before she even drank it.

Then, she heard him ask from beside her. “Do you want me to feed you?”

The deep, low voice made her tiny bit of courage tremble twice. “N-no need.”

Drinking the medicine was already a form of suffering, but if he fed it to her, it would probably feel like a punishment.

She no longer cared about the bitterness and tilted her head back, swallowing it all at once. Afterward, her expression looked as though she had lost half her life.

She swallowed with a soft gulp, feeling as if she had turned into nothing more than a container for medicine.

Just as she was about to tell Rong Ting not to come tomorrow, and to keep his head away from her side, her lips parted slightly but before she could speak, a plum was unexpectedly shoved into her mouth.

The sugar-coated plum, sweet as a candied treat was even more refreshing than the sugary snacks she was used to. The clean, sweet taste instantly wiped away the bitterness left by the medicine.

She froze, her eyes widening in surprise.

Before she could even react, Rong Ting pressed another one into her mouth.

He held an oiled paper bag in his hand, on which the words “Miao Shi Ge” were written.

He still held a preserved plum between his long fingers, and just moments ago, his fingers had unintentionally brushed over her soft, red lips.

His gaze darkened slightly without him realizing.

“Is it still bitter?”

=^_^=