The night was long. The water clock dripped steadily.

Beads of sweat formed on Yan Xuecuī’s forehead. His breathing was ragged. The blood beneath his skin felt as if it were boiling. His body was succumbing to a morbid addiction to that soft, warm scent, refusing to let go.

He had not lost control like this in a very long time.

He loathed the touch of outsiders. He had never been one to indulge in the temptations of the flesh. Over the past year spent in darkness, he had grown utterly weary of the people and affairs around him. He had never craved anyone’s aura like this.

It was like a drug. A single silk handkerchief was enough to make him lose his composure.

His subconscious warned him that this was wrong.

Perhaps this was a “gift” sent by one of his imperial brothers. Perhaps she had approached him with an ulterior motive. Otherwise, why would her voice, her scent, and even that fleeting touch of her skin provoke such a violent physical reaction?

To use a honey trap on a blind man… they certainly went through a lot of trouble.

Yan Xuecuī’s consciousness slowly returned. He tore the silk handkerchief from his face. The veins on his clenched hand bulged. He kept his eyes closed, breathing heavily.

After a long silence, he removed his green jade thumb ring and rose from the daybed. Following the crackling sound of the burning candle, he walked to the bronze lampstand. He felt for the warmth of the flame with his palm and slowly suspended the handkerchief, now stained with his own scent, over the candle.

The silk was swallowed by the tongues of fire inch by inch. The searing heat soon drew close to his fingertips. The vigorous flames licked his pale, slender knuckles, yet he seemed oblivious.

It was only when the handkerchief turned to ash that Yan Xuecuī slowly withdrew his hand.

By now, his palm was covered in blisters. The scorched skin was a mangled, bright red. The agonizing burn stimulated his deprived senses, finally purging the pleasure the handkerchief had brought him.

* * *

Early the next morning, the hidden guards reported the gathered intelligence.

For over a year, because of his blindness, all information was carved onto bamboo slips for Yan Xuecuī to read. He moved his fingertips across the words one by one.

Chi Yingyue. Age seventeen. Second daughter of the Marquis of Changyuan, Chi Mingxiang, born to the primary wife, Madam Yin. Possesses a radiant, blossom-like beauty.

Arrogant and domineering. Servants respect and fear her.

Slightly skilled in painting and embroidery. Especially gifted at the zither.

Fond of pearls, fine jade, and luxurious silks.

Enjoys socializing with noble ladies. Has frequented the estates of Princess Huizhen, the Marquis of Anping, the Marquis of Chengen, and the Minister of Revenue.

After the imperial decree of marriage arrived, the Princess Consort reportedly resisted. She cried for days and stated she would ‘rather die than marry.’

Has lived in seclusion for the past six months, preparing for the wedding.

Grandfather: Marquis of Weining, Chi Yuancheng. Maternal grandfather: Former Vice Minister of Revenue. Father: Chi Mingxiang, currently the Vice Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial, a rank 5b official. He has two sons and three daughters.

Eldest son: Chi Xingwu. Age twenty-three. Born to Concubine Liu. Currently training at the Tongzhou Garrison. Mediocre talent.

Second son: Chi Xingye. Age ten. Mother died early. Raised by Madam Yin. Studies at the private school of Hanlin Academician Chen Mingyi.

Eldest daughter: Chi Xinyue. Age twenty. Born to Concubine Zhou. Married into the Song family of Cangzhou. Gave birth to a son last year.

Third daughter: Chi Ying. Age sixteen. Born to Concubine Xue. At age nine, she reportedly caused Madam Yin to miscarry while playing. She and her mother were exiled to a countryside manor. Returned to the estate last year to beg for medicine…”

Yan Xuecuī’s fingertips swept across the bamboo slips word by word, finally stopping at the phrase “rather die than marry.”

He let out a light laugh. What a “rather die than marry.”

Beside him, Yuan De noticed those four words and felt his heart skip a beat. Carefully watching his master’s expression, he deliberated before speaking. “The Princess Consort is young and has been pampered since childhood. She would inevitably be arrogant and outspoken. Your Highness need not take it to heart.”

Yan Xuecuī asked, “You think she is arrogant?”

Yuan De paused. Thinking of the Princess’s submissive and polite demeanor, he felt the word “arrogant” didn’t fit her at all.

He speculated, “Perhaps she received guidance during her seclusion and changed for the better. After all, she was to become a Princess Consort. Her virtue, speech, appearance, and handiwork should be beyond reproach.”

Yan Xuecuī set down the bamboo slips. “Can a few short months truly allow a person to shed their old skin and be reborn?”

“Or perhaps,” Yuan De pondered, “the Princess heard of Your Highness’s… reputation. She was afraid, so she restrained her temperament and became cautious, not daring to act willfully.”

The corners of Yan Xuecuī’s lips curled. “Afraid of me?”

Yuan De sighed inwardly. Over the years, the Prince’s reputation had been thoroughly dragged through the mud by those other princes. The rumors were as sharp as blades, systematically destroying his standing in the eyes of the Emperor and the commoners.

However, he didn’t dare say that while the Prince appeared as elegant as the moon in public, his private actions were… quite fitting of the rumors.

Take the Prince’s burned hand, for example. With his alertness and sharp senses, he didn’t even need servants for his daily life. How could he easily be burned by a candle? And so severely at that.

Or those times he was injured by Consort Zhuang. The Prince was once a commander on the northern battlefields who no one could stop. Could he really not dodge a pair of scissors thrown blindly by the Consort?

Thinking of the various tortures in the dungeon, the splattered flesh, and the thick scent of blood, Yuan De felt his skin crawl every time he saw his master smile.

If he felt this way, how much more a girl of only seventeen?

“Are you trembling?”

Yan Xuecuī’s sudden question made Yuan De jump. He marveled at how his master’s hearing had become terrifyingly sharp since losing his sight; even an unconscious physical reaction couldn’t escape him.

Yuan De wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. Just as he was wondering how to explain, a guard reported that Court Physician Lin had arrived. Feeling as if he had been granted a reprieve, Yuan De hurried to invite him in.

Court Physician Lin was shocked to see the Prince’s palm burned by candle fire. He was about to examine it when Yan Xuecuī said, “It doesn’t matter. It was dressed last night. Check my eyes first.”

Lin bowed and set down his medicine box. He first examined the Prince’s eyes.

The snow-white gauze was unwound. Yan Xuecuī slowly opened his eyes. Beneath his thin eyelids, the cold, grey silence remained, like a deep pond without a single ripple.

Lin proceeded with the acupuncture and medicine as usual.

Yuan De stared at the silver needles and asked carefully, “Physician Lin, in your opinion, when will His Highness see an improvement?”

Lin didn’t dare make promises. “The meridians in the eyes are fragile, and His Highness was deeply poisoned. A powerful dose of medicine might fail to clear the poison and instead damage the marrow sea. I can only do my best to gradually drain the toxin and use acupuncture to clear the meridians. I can only say that over time, there will certainly be an improvement.”

Years ago, while investigating the truth of Prince Ding’s death, Yan Xuecuī had been hunted by men sent by Prince Rong, Yan Yunfān. He was lured into a miasma-filled forest. During the struggle, the assassins used the “Heavenly Maiden Scattering Flowers” poison to destroy his eyes. The thick miasma intensified the toxicity, leaving him deeply poisoned. The imperial physicians and the miracle workers gathered by Emperor Yongcheng were all helpless.

Physician Lin, a former military doctor with extensive knowledge of miasmas and toxic flora, had once received a favor from Prince Ding. He had studied in secret for a long time and finally developed an antidote. He used the excuse of routine check-ups and wound treatment to enter the Zhao estate, and so far, no one had grown suspicious.

The rumors that Prince Zhao was dying were partly fueled by Lin’s frequent visits.

Once the acupuncture was finished, Lin was about to treat the burn on the Prince’s palm when Qing Ze entered to report that the Princess Consort was asking for an audience.

Thinking of the secret report on the bamboo slips, Yan Xuecuī smiled. “Invite her in.”

* * *

Outside Yangui Tower, Chi Ying took a deep breath.

She had thought it through. Since she was trapped and couldn’t escape, she might as well settle in and make the best of it. Chi Yingyue was currently hiding in a private villa. Unless Prince Zhao died, she wouldn’t dare return to the estate. As long as Chi Ying was meticulous and cautious, she could maintain the deception.

For now, it seemed that while Prince Zhao’s temperament was unpredictable, he was not the type of brute who would torture his wife to death. Once he lost interest in her, she would find a chance to switch back to Chi Yingyue to avoid further trouble.

Chi Ying stepped lightly up the stairs. Entering the inner bedroom, the sight of a man in a white robe with crane patterns met her eyes.

Gauze covered his eyes. His dark hair fell over his shoulders. He sat quietly amidst the drifting Galan incense, looking like cold moonlight on autumn waters—pure and bright.

Chi Ying didn’t dare look for long and slowly curtsied.

Physician Lin presented the Snow-Skin Cream. Chi Ying thanked him, handed the porcelain bottle to Auntie Fangchun, and went to wash her hands before dressing the Prince’s wound.

Yuan De handed her the burn ointment and let out a soft sigh. “His Highness’s hand was burned by a candle last night. I must ask the Princess to help with the dressing.”

Chi Ying was slightly startled. Only then did she see the circle of blood-stained gauze around the Prince’s palm.

She leaned down and looked up at him. “Your Highness, I am here to change your dressing.”

Yan Xuecuī’s slightly lowered knuckles didn’t move. He smiled. “Mm. I shall trouble the Princess.”

Chi Ying tried to steady her breathing. After a moment of hesitation, she carefully touched the man’s bandaged fingers. The moment her fingertips made contact, his knuckles twitched uncontrollably.

Thinking she had hurt him, she said in a panic, “Forgive me, Your Highness! Please… please bear with me. I will be gentle.”

Yan Xuecuī smiled with perfect composure. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were rougher, I would not blame you.”

Chi Ying didn’t dare be careless. She lightly supported the back of his hand and unwound the gauze. Layers of blood began to bloom. The innermost layer was stuck to the flesh. The bright red raw meat and the scorched skin were a terrifying sight. Every finger bore marks of the burn. As she gently peeled the gauze away, Chi Ying felt a surge of sympathetic pain.

With his hand resting against the girl’s soft fingertips, Yan Xuecuī said warmly, “Keep your hand steady. I am not in pain.”

The corners of his lips were slightly raised, and his expression remained unchanged, as if the injury didn’t belong to him.

Chi Ying didn’t understand. She had been injured before; she had only taken a few lashes while protected by her mother, yet years later, the memory of that piercing pain was still fresh.

Yet Prince Zhao seemed to lack a sense of pain. Especially this injury—normally, if a finger touches a flame, one would pull back immediately, resulting in a burnt tip at most. How could it be this bad? It was as if he had let the candle fire burn him for a long time.

Chi Ying spoke from her heart. “Your Highness cannot see. You should have someone serving you closely in the evenings. If you are constantly getting injured, Consort Zhuang will worry.”

If he kept getting new injuries like this, she would have to come to Yangui Tower every day to dress them. Being under the same roof as him so often was not a good thing.

Beside them, Yuan De broke into a sweat and stole a glance at the Prince.

Ever since the Prince lost his eyes, every time he tried to serve him, he was dismissed without exception. At first, perhaps the Prince didn’t want anyone to see him in a pathetic state. Now, while he could move freely, Yuan De never wanted to see a burn like last night’s again.

He hadn’t expected the Princess to dare offer advice to his face. He found himself looking forward to his master’s reaction.

However, the Prince asked, “Does that mean the Princess thinks my injury is the fault of the servants?”

Yuan De’s legs went weak. He and all the servants in the room knelt down, trembling on the floor as they awaited punishment.

Chi Ying was momentarily speechless.

He was always smiling, but his words were wrapped in sharp edges that caught one off guard.

“This concubine meant…”

“In the Princess’s opinion, how should I deal with them?”

Chi Ying’s body went rigid. Her clenched palms were slick with sweat.

Seeing her silence, Yan Xuecuī pressed further. “The mistress of a household must be clear in rewards and punishments. Did your mother never teach you how to manage subordinates?”

Though he was blind, when those grey, sunken eyes “looked” at her, it felt like an interrogation that left her with nowhere to hide.

Chi Ying pinched her fingers. Her azure skirt was wrinkled from her grip, and her knuckles were white.

In her world, there was no such thing as “managing subordinates.”

Though she was the third daughter of the Chi family, her situation since childhood had been no better than that of a servant.

Her mother was once Madam Yin’s maid. Her father had taken her after a night of drunken lust, making her a concubine. After she gave birth, he personally named her “Ying” (Firefly) instead of following the family tradition of naming daughters with “Yue” (Moon). It was a way to show Madam Yin that a firefly’s light would never compete with the bright moon.

When she returned to the estate last year, she had intentionally observed Chi Yingyue’s behavior to try and resemble her more. But a legitimate daughter raised with absolute favor was never submissive or timid. Even if the water for washing was too hot or too cold, she would hit or scold the servants on a whim.

According to Chi Yingyue’s temperament, if such a serious accident as a burn occurred, the servants in the room would be beaten nearly to death or sold off immediately.

Chi Ying wanted to act the part and call for strict punishment, but Prince Zhao surely knew exactly why he was burned. Why did he insist on asking for her opinion?

Could it be that he had discovered something was wrong with her?

It made sense. If Prince Zhao wanted to investigate Chi Yingyue’s character, he certainly could.

She blamed herself; she shouldn’t have spoken just now.

Chi Ying swallowed and hesitated for a long time before speaking softly. “I was taught. This concubine used to be willful. My mother spent a lot of effort teaching me because of that. Before the wedding, she repeatedly reminded me that I must learn to be kind to others and no longer act willfully, lest I displease Your Highness. I am new here and do not yet know the estate’s rules. However, Your Highness can rest assured. In the future, I will surely learn from Auntie Fangchun and Auntie Qionglin on how to balance kindness with authority…”

By the time she finished, Yan Xuecuī felt her voice was exceptionally soft. That trembling, earnest attempt at an explanation was truly amusing.

He couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “The Princess is being too serious. I was just asking. You are the legitimate daughter of the Marquis of Changyuan; you are naturally beyond reproach in every way.”

Chi Ying lowered her head. “Your Highness overpraises me.”

She let out a secret sigh of relief and steadied her mind. She continued her movements, applying the ointment and unconsciously blowing on the wound.

Whenever she had a bump or a bruise in the past, her mother would apply medicine this way. Blowing on the injury helped soothe the pain.

However, in a place she couldn’t see, the man tilted his head back slightly. His breathing was uneven, and his Adam’s apple rolled several times.

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