Chapter 17 – Carrying Her Back

When Yin Mingyu came looking for someone, the first thing he saw was Ning Zhaorou curled up beneath a collapsed canopy. The rain was still pouring, and her small figure lay motionless in the mess, nearly impossible to spot at a glance.

His face darkened the moment he saw the collapsed tent. It was Zhuyue who noticed first—she pointed under the fabric and said that the figure buried beneath it looked like Miss Ning.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief.

When Shuangwu saw the fallen canopy, her legs nearly gave out. She almost collapsed on the spot. Upon hearing Zhuyue’s words, she immediately tried to crawl over to pull her young mistress out, but two palace maids hurried to stop her, not allowing her to go forward.

Yin Mingyu stepped up, crouched down, and lifted a portion of the fabric covering the girl.

Ning Zhaorou was already on the verge of fainting. Even with the fabric shielding her, she was soaked through. She felt cold to the bone, her breathing shallow. In a daze, she heard someone calling her name.

She forced herself to gather some strength and pushed up with her hands, sitting up halfway.

In front of her stood a man, the hem of his dark robe outlined in elegant gold embroidery. Mud stained the clouds-and-waves brocade, and just as he pulled the fabric off of her, she hadn’t even fully lifted her head when a cold command rang out:

“Everyone close your eyes.”

Ning Zhaorou raised her head. Her slender neck looked as though it might break. She stretched out her hand and grabbed his sleeve like it was a lifeline.

Yin Mingyu reached out, wrapped an arm around her waist, and lifted her out from under the fabric. Zhuyue immediately stepped forward and draped a large, clean cloak over her.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Yin Mingyu asked, securing the cloak around her as he strode toward his own large tent with her in his arms.

A palace maid followed them with an umbrella, shielding both the emperor and the girl in his arms from the pouring rain.

Ning Zhaorou didn’t respond, not even opening her eyes. Her entire body trembled.

Yin Mingyu looked down at her. He couldn’t tell if the moisture on her face was rain or tears.

Since she wasn’t speaking, Yin Mingyu didn’t press her. Seeing her cold and soaked, clearly having suffered, he didn’t scold her either—he simply held her silently and walked quickly back to the tent.

Palace maids soon brought in hot water. Though their eyes were full of curiosity, none of them dared to sneak a glance at the girl the emperor had carried in. They simply served her bath with all due diligence.

Soaked in hot water, Ning Zhaorou slowly stopped trembling. She looked around but didn’t see Shuangwu. Silently, she drew herself into a tighter ball, clearly not used to being bathed and tended by strangers.

After the bath, Zhuyue brought in clean clothes—similar in style to Ning Zhaorou’s original ones—and a bowl of ginger soup.

“Miss, please drink this to drive out the chill.”

Ning Zhaorou dressed herself, accepted the ginger soup with both hands, and softly said, “Thank you.” Then she drained the bowl in one go.

Seeing she had finished, Zhuyue took the empty bowl and said no more, simply leading her out of the bathing area.

Outside the inner screen that separated the second layer of the tent, Yin Mingyu listened idly to a subordinate’s report. His fingers rhythmically tapped the jade pendant at his waist. Just then, the curtain was quietly lifted.

He looked up and saw that the girl behind Zhuyue was already looking much better.

Ning Zhaorou, seeing someone kneeling and reporting to the emperor ahead, instinctively shrank back behind Zhuyue.

Yin Mingyu withdrew his gaze. “Leave.”

Zuo Qiu, confused, scratched his head. He hadn’t even finished his report yet.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I take my leave.” He rose and backed out of the tent.

Zhuyue stepped aside slightly and lowered her head to signal that Ning Zhaorou could go in.

Yin Mingyu waited patiently for Ning Zhaorou to come over. After a moment, he finally saw her approach, about to kneel in greeting.

“Enough of that. Come here,” he said.

When he carried her back earlier, she’d looked like a drenched little puppy. Now that she was clean and dressed in fresh clothes, she looked soft and delicate—like something that just made you want to reach out and touch.

Ning Zhaorou glanced around the tent a little cautiously before stepping forward toward Yin Mingyu.

He reached out and pulled her onto his lap, sitting her across his legs, wrapping his hand around hers and absentmindedly kneading the soft, delicate flesh of her palm.

“It was about to rain, so I called off the horse race. And in just that short moment when I wasn’t watching you, you went running off with someone.”

The words made Ning Zhaorou’s ears tingle. She blinked, trying hard to meet his gaze but not daring to look at him too directly. Her eyes wandered around, eventually giving in to curiosity as she softly asked, “Your Majesty… you were watching me?”

Yin Mingyu narrowed his eyes slightly, then coolly and accurately exposed her secret: “That little game you were playing—trying to sneak glances—it’s no different from covering your ears while stealing a bell. If you keep staring, I won’t help you hide it anymore.”

Ning Zhaorou’s mind went blank. A flush crept up from her neck to the tips of her ears. Embarrassed, she lowered her head, feeling utterly exposed, like her inner thoughts had just been laid bare.

How did he even notice?
She had been so careful! And besides, she never saw him looking back at her.

Trying to shake off the awkwardness, she forced herself to change the subject: “Your Majesty… how did you know I wasn’t in my seat?”

Just the mention of it was enough to amuse Yin Mingyu, even though he’d been furious at the time.

“You just went wherever some random little palace maid led you? You hardly know anyone here and still haven’t learned to be more cautious.”

The rain had been about to start, so he halted the race. When he turned around and noticed Ning Zhaorou’s seat empty, he signaled to Zhuyue to go look for her, then headed for his main tent.

The rain came fast.

Before he even reached the tent, he saw a drenched and disheveled maid stumbling forward—Shuangwu.

She hadn’t yet made it back to fetch Ning Zhaorou’s change of clothes when the rain began. She had hurried, nearly running back to get them, but by the time she left again with an umbrella to find Ning Zhaorou, she ran into the imperial entourage.

“That maid of yours said you’d gone into a side tent with some unknown palace girl to rest. I felt something was off, so I had her lead the way to find you.”

And sure enough, they found the collapsed tent. Fortunately, Ning Zhaorou wasn’t hurt.

But when he’d touched her just then, her hand had been icy cold, her whole body soaked in mud and rainwater.

Ning Zhaorou took a moment to think through her explanation before quietly saying, “My skirt was dirty, and my embroidered shoes had stepped into the mud too… They were filthy.”

She paused, long lashes trembling. Her voice grew soft, enough to melt someone’s heart:

“I just thought… if Your Majesty happened to summon me, it wouldn’t be proper to appear in that state.”

And in the end, things turned out even worse. She ended up hiding under a collapsed tent, covered in mud from head to toe. Her hair must’ve been a mess, her face dirty—and she was seen like that by Yin Mingyu.

Just thinking about it made her heart clench.

Yin Mingyu seemed to guess what was on her mind. His mood brightened a little, and he reached out to ruffle her hair.

After her bath, the palace maids had wrung her hair dry, but it still held a bit of dampness. It now hung loose around her shoulders, making her snow-white face stand out even more. The pale skin at her neck extended downward, disappearing beneath her robe.

“So what if you were dirty? I wouldn’t mind. Didn’t I carry you back anyway?” Yin Mingyu said with a chuckle, retracting his gaze.