Chapter 10: A Narrow Miss

“Cous—”

Before she could finish the word, a large hand clamped tightly over her mouth. In the distance, the noise of chaos and shouting filled the air. Wang Ke was not alerted by her faint sound at all—he ran straight out without looking back.

Yan Ling clawed at the hand covering her mouth. Xie Chongqing’s grip did not budge. Gradually, her strength drained away. Through tear-blurred eyes, she watched the figure she had been hoping for disappear farther and farther away.

Tears spilled like broken beads, streaming endlessly down her face. Her beautiful eyes were drenched, fragile as pear blossoms in the rain. Xie Chongqing’s hand still covered her mouth as he stared coldly into the distance.

So close—
Just a little closer.

Wang Ke and his men made a show of “rescuing” people during the fire, yet never found Yan Ling. Once the flames had subsided, there was no reason to linger.

Seeing them return empty-handed, Wang Chen’s expression darkened. “You didn’t find her?”

“No,” Wang Ke replied angrily. “I searched the Eastern Hall thoroughly, even the Bamboo Purity Court the retainer mentioned. That place is clearly a woman’s residence. Either that man deliberately deceived us, or Xie Chongqing is overly suspicious—using Bamboo Purity Court as a decoy.”

His face was black with fury.

Wang Chen’s expression was unreadable. Failing this time would only make the next attempt harder. “Return to the residence first.”

Yan Ling had been crying for a full hour.

Her eyes were swollen red, her once-bright gaze now brimming like an endless river. She lay against the windowsill, sobbing silently, tears sliding slowly down her cheeks. From where he stood, Xie Chongqing could clearly see each tear fall, one by one.

She no longer cared about dignity or embarrassment. She was simply heartbroken.

Xie Chongqing was not at ease either. The room was silent, yet an unexplainable irritation gnawed at him.

“Stop crying,” he said coldly.

In his twenty-plus years, he had seen bloodshed, court intrigue, and countless defeated men and displaced civilians weeping at his feet. He had always remained unmoved.

Only this young woman before him made him feel—rarely—at a loss.

Yan Ling hurriedly lowered her head to wipe her tears, only to make them fall faster. Her pale, translucent face flushed pink, like a peach soaked in morning dew.

Those tear-filled eyes carried boundless grievance. The instant she looked up, it was like a sudden swell of琴音—resonant and piercing—sending a numb ache straight through Xie Chongqing’s chest.

“I’ll cry if I want to. What business is it of yours?”

“The Wang clan already knows you are here,” Xie Chongqing said, steering the conversation back to the point.

Yan Ling’s heart trembled. Gongsun Zhi and Fu Li must have met already—Fu Li must have gone to seek help. She lifted her watery gaze, expression calm. “In that case, can I return to the palace now?”

Xie Chongqing curled his fingers and began tapping the table lightly, rhythmically. Each sound struck Yan Ling’s nerves.

She thought he had discovered something. Her heart hung high in suspense.

In the suffocating silence, waiting felt like being slowly flayed alive.

“Why does the Wang clan head know you are here?” His gaze suddenly turned icy, sharp with pressure, piercing straight through her pretense, tearing away her mask.

Yan Ling nearly collapsed.

Her mind raced wildly. Even her tears almost dried up—but then she realized she was supposed to know nothing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she asked blankly. “What does this have to do with my uncle?”

“Wang Chen came today. The moment he arrived, the Eastern Hall caught fire. The Wang clan searched everywhere under the excuse of extinguishing the flames—and they even came out of Bamboo Purity Court.”

Xie Chongqing spoke slowly, but his words were relentlessly aggressive. He treated her not with the respect owed to a prince, but with the dominance of someone in power.

She wanted to call him insolent—but the words wouldn’t come.

“If I knew why my uncle came,” Yan Ling said, pressing her forehead, her voice thick with nasal congestion and irritation, “I wouldn’t still be sitting here.”

If one listened closely, her voice was faintly trembling.

In truth, she deeply regretted it. One misstep—and she had never expected her cousin not to recognize her.

Had Gongsun Zhi not told them?

No matter. She would know the truth once she returned. But now that Xie Chongqing had noticed, getting close again would be harder than ascending to the heavens.

Xie Chongqing’s expression softened slightly. It seemed he believed her explanation.

“So my uncle knows I’m here now,” Yan Ling said quietly. “When does the Grand Tutor plan to let me go back?”

“For now—no.”

The refusal was expected. She had been disappointed too many times already.

She no longer had the strength to clash with him. She only wanted to vent—violently, thoroughly.

Seeing her cry again, Xie Chongqing felt unbearably irritated. It was as though she were made of water, her tears inexhaustible. How had he never noticed before that the Twelfth Prince cried so easily?

Perhaps truly moved by her tears, he finally softened his tone. “When His Majesty recovers and Prince Hui is established as Crown Prince, I will send Your Highness back to the palace.”

Yan Ling choked slightly, hiding her shock.

She knew well that her father would never, under any circumstances, make Yan Hui the Crown Prince.

She cried for a long time, her cheeks flushed red, her beautiful eyes swollen like overripe peaches. Unable to bear it, she put her veil back on.

Xie Chongqing frowned. “Why put it on again?”

“I look ugly from crying,” she muttered, pressing the back of her hand to her face.

“There’s no one else here,” he said instinctively—then realized she was probably referring to him.

“I will take my leave,” he said flatly and stood to go.

Once outside, his expression turned completely cold. “Yuan Che.”

“This subordinate is here,” Yuan Che knelt immediately.

“There is someone in the residence feeding information out. Investigate everyone who has had contact with the Twelfth Prince—men and women alike.”

“Yes.”

Yuan Che answered promptly. It was clear the master had not fully believed the Twelfth Prince’s words.

That very night, Yan Ling developed a high fever.

Bamboo Purity Court was lit all night until dawn. Qingtao panicked, running in circles, even delaying Xie Chongqing from entering the palace the next day.

“Father… Elder Brother…”

The girl on the bed looked so fragile it seemed she might die at any moment. Her eyes remained shut, black hair like satin spread across the pillow as she murmured faintly from time to time.

Xie Chongqing stood beside the bed watching Qingtao try to feed her medicine.

After two spoonfuls, Yan Ling vomited it up. Qingtao wiped her mouth and forced herself to try again, but an entire bowl was wasted without getting a single swallow down.

“My lord…” Qingtao looked at Xie Chongqing helplessly.

The physician said her illness came from excessive worry—days of poor eating and sleep, followed by getting drenched in the rain. A sudden chill had invaded her body.

The sickness struck fiercely. She had visibly lost weight.

Xie Chongqing took the cooled medicine, motioned for Qingtao to pry her mouth open. Qingtao pinched Yan Ling’s cheeks to force her lips apart while Xie Chongqing poured the medicine in.

He was gentle, but Yan Ling still choked badly. That coughing stirred her faint consciousness.

Her vision was blurred. She vaguely saw a tall figure seated by the bed and instinctively leaned into him, arms wrapping around his waist.

“Don’t go… Fu Li…”

The last two words were barely audible. Xie Chongqing did not hear them.

He looked down at her arms around him, brows knitting tightly. He had always disliked being touched.

Just as he was about to pry her arms away, the girl buried against his waist began to sob softly.

Xie Chongqing froze.

After a long silence, he did not push her away.

The Wang Residence

When Wang Chen and the others returned, Fu Li rushed out eagerly. Upon seeing Yan Ling was not with them, it felt like being drenched in cold water.

He stood stiffly in the courtyard for a long while before asking hoarsely, “Where is His Highness?”

Gongsun Zhi ran out soon after. “You didn’t bring her back?”

After being taken to the Wang residence, he had been questioned repeatedly. Fu Li, facing intense resistance, had no choice but to confess.

Gongsun Zhi had always yearned for imperial power. Well-read and idealistic, he despised the aristocratic monopolization of authority—but powerless, he had learned to survive quietly.

Yan Ling’s ordeal stirred his compassion.

He had never imagined that the deeply favored Twelfth Prince was actually a woman. His admiration for her only deepened.

Still, admiration aside, he was merely from a humble background. He lacked the power to oppose great clans. He had no desire to entangle himself in the struggle between the Xie and Wang families. Self-preservation was wiser.

Wang Ke grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “You dared lie to us! Bamboo Purity Court isn’t His Highness’s residence—it’s a woman’s! I think you and Xie Chongqing are working together.”

He raised his sword toward Gongsun Zhi’s neck.

“Wait—wait—you don’t know—” Gongsun Zhi hurriedly said.

Fu Li’s expression changed. An unthinkable realization slowly surfaced.

Before Gongsun Zhi could explain further, Fu Li shouted to stop him. “You dared deceive me! This must be another smokescreen released by Xie Chongqing to toy with us!”

He yanked Gongsun Zhi away from Wang Ke. “Clan Head, Captain—it is this servant who was too anxious and misjudged people, falling for this man’s deception.”

Wang Ke’s face twisted. “I’ll kill him.” His sword pointed straight at Gongsun Zhi.

Wang Chen raised his hand to stop him. His gaze was deep and probing as he stared at Fu Li and Gongsun Zhi, yet he said nothing.

Cold sweat soaked Fu Li’s back. He forced himself to remain calm.

Yan Ling’s cross-dressing was a royal secret. The prophecy of a high monk from years ago still echoed in his mind.

He had always known his purpose—protect Yan Ling, protect her secret, at least until she turned eighteen.

Before these two priorities, everything else came second.

Gongsun Zhi looked dazed. Fortunately, Wang Chen did not pursue the matter further.

“Enough,” Wang Chen said calmly. “We’ve already alerted them. Any further rescue must be planned carefully. Disperse.”

He left lightly, as if nothing had happened. Wang Ke shot them a furious glare before following his father.

Fu Li swallowed hard. Those words sounded casual—but their meaning was dangerously ambiguous.

“Why didn’t you let me explain earlier?” Gongsun Zhi asked blankly.

“Since you already know the truth,” Fu Li said after a deep breath, bowing solemnly, “may I ask you to enter the residence and pass a message for me?”

Gongsun Zhi hesitated for a long time. “I… this matter…”

“Xueci was willing to let you find me—that was trust,” Fu Li said earnestly. “You are a good man, willing to save Xueci from fire and water. If you are willing, once Xueci is safe, there will be great reward.”

“…Fine,” Gongsun Zhi finally said. “I’ll help you this once.”

His ambitions had not yet been fulfilled—and Fu Li’s offer was, undeniably, tempting.