Chapter 12 : Scars of Control

“Seventh Miss!”

Tao Zhu, along with the other servants, had been waiting under the shade of a large tree to cool off. 

She had been keeping an eye on Lin Ting’s situation, and the moment she saw her rolling into the haystack, she immediately rushed over to help.

The haystack was soft, so Lin Ting wasn’t hurt, but her hair and dress were now tangled with stray bits of grass. 

As she sat up, she looked like a well-dressed scarecrow, while Duan Ling, standing a few steps away, remained impeccably neat.

Tao Zhu was heartbroken, carefully plucking the grass from Lin Ting’s hair and asking how she had fallen.

Lin Ting also picked off a few stray blades of grass from her arms, choosing to stay optimistic. 

As long as I don’t feel embarrassed, the embarrassment belongs to someone else. 

She smiled and explained lightly, “It was my first time riding, and I got too excited. I ran too fast after getting off and lost my balance.”

She made it sound casual, without mentioning Duan Ling’s indifference. 

However, she was unaware that Tao Zhu had witnessed the entire incident, including the moment she tumbled into the haystack.

Because of this, Tao Zhu felt even more distressed for Lin Ting. 

She was, after all, her Seventh Miss. 

Quickly, she helped her over to a nearby seat and anxiously examined her exposed skin, fearing she might have gotten bruised.

After confirming that Lin Ting was uninjured, Tao Zhu finally relaxed.

“You scared me to death.”

The commotion had not gone unnoticed. 

Upon hearing that Lin Ting had fallen, Duan Xinning immediately had Xia Zimo help her down from her horse and rushed over. 

Seeing Lin Ting sitting there safe and sound, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Leyun.” 

She called Lin Ting by her courtesy name and whispered, “What happened?”

Lin Ting calmly repeated the same excuse she had given Tao Zhu, not changing a single word, and even smiled cheekily. 

“I was just too careless.”

If she hadn’t invited Lin Ting to the racetrack today, she wouldn’t have suffered such a fright. 

Guilt filled Duan Xinning’s heart, her eyes slightly reddened. 

“As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

Duan Ling cast a glance at the haystack where Lin Ting had fallen. 

The area bore a deep indentation from her landing.

Meanwhile, Xia Zimo gave Duan Ling a thoughtful look. 

While he had been teaching Duan Xinning to ride, he had unintentionally turned around just in time to see Lin Ting running toward Duan Ling—only for Duan Ling to sidestep, letting her fall.

With Duan Ling’s skills, stopping Lin Ting from falling would have been effortless. 

Yet, he hadn’t. 

Was it because he hadn’t reacted in time, or had he mistakenly assumed she was rushing toward someone behind him and simply stepped aside out of courtesy?

Xia Zimo found the latter idea amusing and couldn’t hold back his laughter.

Duan Xinning turned back in shock, staring at him. 

She thought he was mocking Lin Ting’s embarrassing fall and found his behavior completely inappropriate. 

Her impression of him instantly dropped three points.

Embarrassed and angry, her face flushed red. 

“Why is the Heir of the Marquis laughing?”

Even an outsider could hear the change in her tone—there was an underlying accusation in her voice. 

Though Xia Zimo often faced things with a carefree attitude, he couldn’t ignore this.

He was naturally eloquent and immediately tried to explain. 

“I meant no offense, Third Miss Duan, you misunderstand. I wasn’t laughing at Seventh Miss Lin—I simply thought of something—”

Unfortunately, no matter how smooth-talking he was, he couldn’t finish his explanation before being cut off.

Duan Xinning held Lin Ting in high regard. 

Though usually gentle, she hardened her tone for the first time and gave Xia Zimo a cold look. 

“Enough. I’m tired. I’ll take Leyun home now.” 

She turned to Duan Ling. 

“Second Brother.”

Duan Ling understood what she wanted to say and glanced at Lin Ting, who was watching their argument with innocent eyes. 

“I’ll escort you back.”

Lin Ting raised an eyebrow.

Heaven bear witness—she had absolutely no intention of stirring trouble between this couple. 

The only reason she hadn’t stepped in to mediate was that she understood Duan Xinning’s personality too well.

If she tried to speak on Xia Zimo’s behalf, Duan Xinning would immediately assume that she was intimidated by the power of the Shian Marquis Household. 

She would think that Lin Ting, after being mocked by Xia Zimo, didn’t dare to confront him and was trying to smooth things over instead.

This would only make Duan Xinning angrier and drive a deeper wedge between her and Xia Zimo.

Lin Ting, of course, wasn’t one to shy away from conflict. 

However, she was certain that Xia Zimo wasn’t laughing at her. 

As for what he had found amusing, she didn’t know. 

Either way, he was just unlucky—his laughter had landed him right in Duan Xinning’s crosshairs.

The best solution was to let Duan Xinning cool off first. 

Later, Xia Zimo would have to lower his pride and coax her, and Lin Ting would brush the matter aside, assuring her it was nothing. 

Duan Xinning had a soft heart—things would blow over easily.

Ignoring Xia Zimo’s regretful and frustrated gaze, Lin Ting stepped into the carriage.

It was quite a while before Lin Ting saw Duan Xinning slowly lift her skirt and step into the carriage. 

Her expression still carried traces of embarrassment and anger, though it had softened slightly—she had likely been stopped by Xia Zimo before boarding, where he had given her another round of explanations.

Tao Zhu, keenly aware of the subtle tension in the air, kept her gaze lowered and her mind focused, moving swiftly to hold open the carriage curtain. 

“Third Miss Duan.”

Duan Xinning sat down beside Lin Ting, still sulking, and leaned her head against Lin Ting’s shoulder.

The maidservants attending Duan Xinning and Tao Zhu exchanged a glance before silently exiting the carriage, leaving the two young ladies alone.

No one knew what Lin Ting said or did, but within moments, Duan Xinning was already laughing.

Meanwhile, Duan Ling rode at a steady pace behind the carriage, maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far. 

He held the reins with one hand, seemingly indifferent to the faint sounds of laughter drifting from within.

Inside the carriage, after successfully coaxing Duan Xinning out of her bad mood, Lin Ting lifted the curtain and peered outside.

As they returned to the city, they passed through a forested area where lush green branches scattered the sunlight, creating a chaotic pattern of shadows on the ground. 

The shifting light was dizzying to look at, so Lin Ting raised a hand to shade her eyes, easing the strain.

Behind her, the rhythmic sound of hooves reached her ears. 

She followed the noise with her gaze—just as Duan Ling, looking straight ahead while riding, happened to glance in her direction.

Their eyes met.

Duan Ling’s gaze rested on Lin Ting’s face, but her own eyes drifted toward his waist.

Before he could notice where her focus had strayed, Lin Ting quickly withdrew her head and let the curtain fall back into place. 

With a sigh of regret, she muttered to herself—looks like she wouldn’t be able to complete her mission today.

Back at the Lin residence, Lin Ting collapsed onto her bed and immediately fell into a deep sleep. 

She was utterly drained—horseback riding had exhausted her physically, while plotting how to hug Duan Ling had drained her mentally.

Whatever needed to be dealt with… could wait until tomorrow.

***

At dawn, before the sun had risen, the high-walled courtyard of the Duan residence remained eerily silent. 

Dew clung to the flowers and grass, some droplets sliding down the leaves, seeping into the red clay below, gradually moistening the roots.

A multicolored bird fluttered down and perched on the tightly shut window. 

It lowered its head, preening its soft chest feathers, then pecked at the window ledge with its beak.

Inside the room, Duan Ling woke up to the rhythmic tapping of the bird’s beak against the window—thud, thud, thud.

He sat up, paying no attention to the natural reaction between his legs, which had risen unconsciously during sleep.

It was a common occurrence for most men upon waking, but Duan Ling was different. 

If he ignored it, it would persist indefinitely. 

Later, he came to understand that this condition was called desire addiction.

However, Duan Ling despised anything that was beyond his control. 

He had never once sought relief from it, and today was no exception.

Reaching under his pillow, he retrieved a dagger, lifted his sleeve, and pressed the tip of the blade against his wrist.

As the sharp edge traced across his skin, a thin wound split open, and deep red blood seeped out. 

He casually wiped it away with a handkerchief.

At the same time, the strange sensation between his legs gradually faded—pain successfully driving away his body’s unwanted urges.

Without a change in expression, Duan Ling proceeded to get dressed.

As he pulled off his white inner robe, his strong, well-defined arms were exposed to the morning air. 

Across his skin, an intricate web of scars—dense, crisscrossed, and grotesque like twisted centipedes—were embedded into his flesh, each one a testament to past pain.