Duan Ling slowly straightened up, not bothering to wipe the sweat from his face, letting it drip down.
He merely lowered his gaze to the handkerchief that had been accidentally stained.
In the room, the scent of stonecrop flowers was strong, even more so on the handkerchief.
The liquid slid along the edge of the fabric, leaving a muddy trail as the scent gradually seeped in.
Now, he hadn’t slit his wrist, nor had he relieved himself manually.
How could this have happened?
Unlike an unconscious nocturnal emission, he had been fully awake.
Precisely because he was awake, Duan Ling could clearly remember the sensation at that moment he had caught a whiff of a girl’s fragrance, and then he had lost control.
Could it be because of this handkerchief?
Duan Ling tidied himself up, asked for a basin of water, picked up the handkerchief, and placed it in the water to wash away the filth clinging to it.
After washing it for a long time, he finally wrung it out and hung it on a wooden rack near the windowsill to dry.
After opening the window, the slanting rays of the setting sun spilled into the room, accompanied by a gentle breeze that lightly caressed the still slightly damp handkerchief.
The scent of stonecrop flowers seemed to have vanished, yet it also seemed to linger, hidden in some obscure corner.
In the capital, Lin Ting stepped into the bookstore just as the last rays of the setting sun faded.
Before entering, she put on a newly purchased ghost mask, removed the wind chime at the door to prevent it from ringing, and then tiptoed inside, intending to scare Jin Anzai.
The bookstore was located in a rather secluded area, with few regular customers coming to buy or read books.
On most days, aside from Lin Ting and Jin Anzai, there was no one else.
She silently walked past row after row of bookshelves, searching for Jin Anzaï’s figure.
Jin Anzai had no friends in the capital.
During the times when he wasn’t taking on jobs, he would occasionally stroll the streets, but most of the time, he stayed in the bookstore.
After searching the front courtyard of the bookstore without finding him, Lin Ting headed to the backyard.
Recently, they had started raising a few chickens and a dog in the backyard.
The chickens were raised by Jin Anzai for food, while the dog was for play.
At the moment, both the chickens and the dog were resting under the locust tree.
She waved at them.
The chickens clucked, and the dog, aloof, turned its back to Lin Ting.
She smoothed the dog’s fur and walked further in.
Ahead, there was a large rock, about two people tall and three people wide.
The area wasn’t cluttered, and at a glance, it was almost entirely visible with no sign of Jin Anzai.
Lin Ting suspected he had gone out.
Just as she was about to call out to see if he was around, she heard some noises coming from behind the large rock.
Was Jin Anzai behind the rock?
Lin Ting checked to make sure her mask was still in place, intending to sneak around and scare him.
Before she could get close to the rock, she heard another voice:
“Are you really going to stand by and do nothing? They’re all doing this for you.”
“I’ve already warned them. It’s their own stubbornness that’s leading them down this path,”
Jin Anzai’s voice was cold.
“Besides, the person I was before is dead. My name is Jin Anzai now.”
The man speaking to him grew agitated:
“Don’t forget how your sister died!”
Jin Anzai’s face was hidden behind the mask, his expression unreadable, but his exposed eyes were as cold as frost:
“I remember. She died right in front of me.
How could I forget how she died?”
The man grabbed his hand with great force, hatred in his voice:
“You remember it all, so why won’t you pull yourself together and avenge her?”
The hand being gripped ached, but Jin Anzai ignored it:
“I’ve already killed the person who caused her death.”
The man chuckled lowly:
“Killed the person who caused her death? That’s not enough. You need to kill them all to truly appease your sister’s spirit.”
Jin Anzai didn’t respond to this, only saying,
“You should leave.”
“Why were you the one who survived back then? Why, why! You ungrateful wretch, you’ve failed your sister.”
“Didn’t you survive too? If you cared so much for my sister, why didn’t you go with her back then, instead of becoming the princess’s consort?”
Jin Anzai pushed him away.
The man staggered back a few steps:
“I endured humiliation, biding my time for the right moment to take revenge…”
Jin Anzai said indifferently,
“Don’t spout such noble words. Do you know that because of your selfishness, the entire Xie family was wiped out? If it weren’t for you using my name to approach them, they wouldn’t have been accused of forming factions.”
“The incident with the Xie family was my oversight. That dog emperor is too cunning. But they died a worthy death. The Xie army will surely harbor resentment toward the court, and they can be of use to us in the future.”
Although the Xie army served the court, their loyalty lay with General Xie.
The man had approached the Xie family using Jin Anzai’s name precisely because he wanted to persuade the Xie army to lend their support.
Jin Anzai suddenly grabbed the man by the throat:
“Of use to us? You indirectly caused the downfall of the entire Xie family, and now you want to use the Xie army for our benefit? No, more accurately, for your own benefit.”
He had never intended to approach the Xie family, let alone use them for his own purposes.
The man, choked, began to turn a purplish hue, his words coming out in gasps:
“I wasn’t the one who ordered the Xie family’s execution. How could I have caused their downfall? What a joke.”
Jin Anzai eventually released him:
“But if it weren’t for you, they wouldn’t have died.”
The man collapsed to the ground, clutching his throat and coughing:
“You blame me, but why not blame the current emperor for his paranoia and cruelty? The Xie family were founding heroes of the dynasty, yet he killed them without hesitation.”
His face twisted with hatred.
“To be honest, General Xie refused to help me back then. Out of old friendship, he didn’t expose me to the emperor, only asked me to pass on a message to you: to live well and stay away from the court.”
Jin Anzai:
“What General Xie said aligns with my own thoughts. I only want to live well and stay away from the court. It’s you who took matters into your own hands.”
The man laughed bitterly:
“How is that possible? What kind of person are you? How can you stay away from the court? They’re all looking for you— some want to kill you, others want to help you. You’re destined to be unable to escape.”
“I’ve said it before. My name is Jin Anzai now, and that’s the only identity I’ll have from now on.”
Jin Anzai’s tone was impatient.
The man sneered:
“You’re deceiving yourself. The dog emperor already knows you’re alive. If you don’t die, he’ll never rest easy. If you truly want to live, the only way is to follow the path I’ve laid out for you.”
The last trace of sunlight disappeared from the horizon, and darkness enveloped the backyard of the bookstore.
Jin Anzai tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword:
“Enough. Stop talking.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
The two stood facing each other.
Jin Anzai’s eyes were as dark as ink, his sword pointed at the man:
“I’ll ask you one thing-were you involved in the unrest in Suzhou?”
“I wasn’t the mastermind. I just gave it a little push.”
The man raised an eyebrow, knowing Jin Anzai wouldn’t kill him, and pushed the sword aside.
“You can control me, but you can’t control others.”
Jin Anzai remained silent.
“So many people have died for you. How can you hope to stay out of it? Wishful thinking.”
The man tossed these words over his shoulder as he walked away, not noticing Lin Ting hiding on the other side of the rock.
She crouched motionless, digesting their conversation.
This seemed like a monumental revelation.
Jin Anzai was actually a remnant of the previous dynasty that the court was searching for, and he was also connected to the downfall of the Xie family.
The man who had just left was the princess’s consort, but he also seemed to have been Jin Anzai’s sister’s lover?
Alright.
Lin Ting had previously suspected that Jin Anzai’s identity wasn’t simple, but she hadn’t expected it to be tied to the previous dynasty.
Learning about this today was shocking, but there were also traces of it that made sense.
Lin Ting analyzed the situation: the man clearly wanted to overthrow the Great Yan and restore the Great Xia.
Not only had he done many things in Jin Anzai’s name, but he had also been constantly trying to persuade Jin Anzai.
However, Jin Anzai had no interest in this and only wanted to stay away from the court’s conflicts.
Would Jin Anzai eventually leave the bookstore because of this?
She was more curious about that.
Lin Ting genuinely considered Jin Anzai a friend.
She didn’t want anything bad to happen to him and hoped their bookstore could continue operating for a long time.
“If you’re done eavesdropping, come out.”
Jin Anzai had long since noticed Lin Ting, but he hadn’t exposed her because the man was present.
Lin Ting stood up and walked out:
“When did you notice me?”
Jin Anzai saw a leaf caught in her hair but didn’t point it out.
He leaned against the rock and instead of answering, asked,
“Did you hear everything?”
“Are you going to kill me to silence me? I thought we were friends, and now you want to kill me?”
Lin Ting naturally believed Jin Anzai wouldn’t do such a thing.
Otherwise, she would have fled as soon as she finished eavesdropping.
Jin Anzai said indifferently,
“You really should go see a doctor about your brain.”
Lin Ting tugged on a thin rope hanging in the backyard.
With a ding, warm yellow lights immediately lit up around them, dispelling the gloom that had settled over the yard as the sun set.
Jin Anzai, who had been standing in the shadows, was now bathed in light.
He squinted, instinctively raising a hand to block the light, then slowly lowered it, staring at the lights in a daze.
Lin Ting had Jin Anzai install the rope and lights during his free time; he was skilled in mechanisms.
Lin Ting released the rope and grinned:
“Much clearer this way. How does it feel? I told you the rope lights were convenient, didn’t I?”
Jin Anzai didn’t respond to her.
Instead, he asked,
“Aren’t you going to ask about my true identity?”
“I’ve already guessed.”
Generally, only someone with the status of a prince from the previous dynasty could provoke such fear in the Great Yan emperor, leading to a death warrant.
Even if he didn’t spell it out, Lin Ting could guess.
After a moment of silence, Jin Anzai looked at her:
“Duan Ling is the Vice Commander of the Imperial Guards, serving the emperor. I’m a remnant of the previous dynasty. If he were to discover my identity, what would you do?”
“I’d stand by you, of course.”
He seemed to ponder this:
“You and Duan Ling have that kind of relationship, yet you’d still stand by me?”
Lin Ting:
“You’re my friend. I can’t just stand by and watch Duan Ling take you away. I’ll keep your secret… I’ve already told you, the relationship between me and him isn’t what you think. Our past relationship was terrible.”
Jin Anzai coldly said, “Oh?
A terrible relationship that involved kissing more than once?”
Lin Ting: “……”
She realized Jin Anzai wasn’t listening at all.
Indeed, communication between different species was difficult and could easily drive one mad.
She mentally punched him a few times, trying to remain calm:
“What happened at Prince Liang’s residence was due to circumstances. If I didn’t kiss Duan Ling, Prince Liang would have killed me. What would you have done?”
Jin Anzai:
“Prince Liang’s residence? So you also kissed at Nanshan Pavilion.”
He had tricked her into admitting it.
Lin Ting defended herself:
“No! What happened at Nanshan Pavilion was because we ate spicy food. Believe it or not, we were just eating spicy food there. If you bring up Nanshan Pavilion again, I’ll kill you.”