Chapter 32: What Exactly Has Changed? (2/2)

Lin Ting, mouth full of plum, mumbled, 

“The guards need to speak with Lord Duan. It’s nothing to do with us. Mother, open your mouth. I’ll feed you a plum. It’s delicious.”

Lady Li pushed her hand away.

“All you think about is eating. You’re going to turn into a pig. Don’t you know you should send someone to check on Lord Duan?” 

Lady Li was exasperated, but there was nothing she could do.

Lin Ting, puzzled, crushed the plum in her mouth and lounged on the seat. 

“If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it. Why should I send someone to check on Lord Duan? I don’t like him. It’d just cause misunderstandings.”

Lady Li gave her that strange look again. 

“Right, you don’t like him.”

You don’t like him, yet you hugged him.

At that moment, someone knocked on the carriage. 

“Madam Li, Miss Lin. The second young master has urgent business to attend to and won’t be ableto escort you back. Please forgive him.” 

It was a servant from the Duan family.

Lady Li knew the guards’ duties were demanding. 

“Very well. Please convey my message to the second young master: ‘Take care of your health. Don’t overwork yourself’.”

Lin Ting was furious. “Mother!”

The Duan family servant left before she could stop him.

After entering the city, the carriage turned down a street, and the Duan and Lin families’ carriages were about to part ways. 

But just before they did, Madam Feng called for them to stop, wanting to bid Lin Ting farewell in person.

Lin Ting couldn’t remain seated in the carriage while Madam Feng spoke to her.

It would be impolite, so she and Lady Li got out of the carriage.

The street corner was quiet, with only their carriages parked there.

Madam Feng approached Lin Ting, took her hand, and pulled a white jade bracelet from a brocade box. 

“I almost forgot to give this to you.”

In the sunlight, the white jade bracelet was translucent, flawless, with a fine texture and warm color, like a wisp of moonlight fallen to earth. 

It was clearly a priceless treasure.

Lady Li thought to herself, the noble families were indeed generous, giving gifts even before exchanging betrothal tokens.

Though Lin Ting loved wealth, she knew which gifts were acceptable and which weren’t. 

She politely declined. 

“This is too precious. I can’t accept it, Madam Feng. Please take it back.”

Madam Feng didn’t take it back. 

“Le Yun, do you dislike the bracelet?”

“It’s not that I dislike it. The bracelet is beautiful, and your taste is impeccable. But I feel I haven’t done anything to deserve such a valuable gift.”

Even after being rejected, Madam Feng remained composed. 

“I don’t need you to do anything for me. Can’t I simply give you a gift?”

Lady Li pinched Lin Ting’s waist.

“This is Madam Feng’s kind gesture. Hurry up and accept it.”

Madam Feng took Lin Ting’s wrist and slipped the bracelet onto it. 

When Lin Ting tried to remove it, Madam Feng said, 

“My daughter Ling Yun has a matching one. I hear you two are the best of friends. Wouldn’t it be perfect for you both to have one?”

Lin Ting: “…”

Madam Feng smiled gently. 

“It suits you. Keep it.”

So, the bracelet was a “best friends” bracelet, not what she had initially thought? 

Lin Ting pondered for a moment, then finally accepted it.

“Thankyou, Madam Feng.”

In the future, she would earn more money and buy Madam Feng a gift in return. 

Lin Ting resolved to work even harder.

Madam Feng looked at her with satisfaction. 

“There’s no need to be so formal with me.”

Then, Madam Feng brought up Duan Ling.

“Zi Yu said the guards have received information about the fugitive from the Xie family. He had to take his men to Sanfang Street for a search, so he couldn’t escort you back personally. It was sudden, not intentional.”

Lady Li acted understanding. 

“We understand. He’s a government official, and his duties come first. We can make our own way back.”

Sanfang Street? 

Why did that sound familiar? 

Lin Ting remembered.

In the original story, Xia Zimo had mentioned this to Duan Xingning when they were intimate. 

He said there had been a fire on Sanfang Street, and many innocent people had died. 

He warned her to be careful when going out.

Lin Ting didn’t remember the exact date, as the book hadn’t specified. 

Could it be today?

If it was today, and Duan Ling was trapped in the fire like he had been at Yellow Crane Tower, what would happen?

He couldn’t stay in a fire. 

Transmigration had a butterfly effect; he might not survive until the end. 

Her mission wasn’t complete yet.

No, she had to go and see.

Lin Ting quickly made an excuse to leave.

 Lady Li tried to stop her but couldn’t, and Tao Zhu couldn’t catch up either. 

They could only watch as she ran off.

Lin Ting ran all the way to Sanfang Street, sweating profusely, not stopping once.

She was right. It was today.

But Lin Ting was too late. 

Sanfang Street was on fire, and people were fleeing in chaos. 

The flames reached the sky, and thick black smoke billowed everywhere.

In the sea of people, Lin Ting couldn’t find Duan Ling at first. 

She walked and called out, “Lord Duan!” 

She needed to see him to feel at ease. 

Until her mission was complete, her life wasn’t her own.

Everyone was running out, but she ran in against the flow. 

“Lord Duan!”

A man stopped her, his voice low and somewhat familiar. 

“Miss, the fire is intense. If you run in like this, you could get hurt.”

“I’m looking for someone.”

Lin Ting pushed aside the hand blocking her, noticing the man’s fingers had no nails and bore the marks of torture. 

She wanted to see his face, but he wore a veil, so she couldn’t.

Her intuition told her this man was the fifth son of the Xie family.

 “You…”

The man lowered his hand and didn’t stop her again. 

He lowered his veil and melted into the chaotic crowd, disappearing into the maze of streets.

Lin Ting continued her search.

Even if this man was the fifth son of the Xie family, she wouldn’t interfere or report him. 

Lin Ting cupped her hands and shouted, 

“Lord Duan! Lord Duan! Lord Duan! Duan Ling!”

A hundred paces away, Duan Ling stood in a safe area untouched by the fire, commanding the guards to extinguish the flames and capture the culprits. 

“Remember, once you’ve caught them, bring them to the imperial prison. I’ll interrogate them personally.”

A guard ran up to him. 

“Sir, someone in the fire zone is looking for you.”

Duan Ling was momentarily surprised. 

“Looking for me?”

The guard confirmed, 

“Yes. She ran straight into the fire zone as soon as she entered Sanfang Street, calling your name. She must be worried you’re trapped in the fire.”

“Who is it?”

Before the guard could answer, Duan Ling heard a voice calling, 

“Lord Duan!” 

He turned and saw a slender figure.

Lin Ting’s pink ruqun was now dirty, her hair slightly disheveled, strands of hair sticking to her sweaty face, her cheeks smudged with soot.

She saw him too, and her eyes lit up. 

“Lord Duan!”

Thick smoke billowed into the sky, the flames painting the clouds red. 

The fire raged behind Lin Ting as she ran toward him, her hair fluttering in the wind, yet it seemed to stir the air itself.

Duan Ling’s hand, resting on the hilt of his sword, unconsciously tightened and then relaxed as he watched her approach. 

“Miss Lin?”

Lin Ting wiped her sweat and looked up at him. 

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What are you doing here?”

Gasping for breath, she said, 

“Madam Feng mentioned you were on duty at Sanfang Street. On my way back to the residence, I heard that Sanfang Street was on fire. I was afraid Lingyun would worry if she found out, so I came to check. Are you alright?”

Duan Ling looked down at her, who was shorter than him, and replied, 

“I’m fine, thank you for your concern.”

Lin Ting, catching her breath, felt it necessary to reiterate, 

“I was worried about Lingyun. Her health isn’t good, and she can’t handle shocks.”

He calmly responded, 

“I understand. You were concerned that my sister would worry if she knew I was in the fire, so you came to check. Thank you for coming all this way. It’s dangerous here; I’ll have someone escort you back to the residence.”

“Ah? Oh, there’s no need to trouble yourself. You should continue with the firefighting. I can manage on my own.”

“Also, Lord Duan, please be careful while fighting the fire. Don’t accidentally get caught in it.” 

With that, Lin Ting turned and left.

Duan Ling watched her retreating figure, his fingers lightly brushing the hilt of his knife, lost in thought.

The cavalry officer hesitated before speaking, 

“Sir, the fifth son of the Xie family escaped again during the fire. Our men… couldn’t catch him.”

Duan Ling withdrew his gaze,

“We must find out who set this fire.”

It was midnight when Duan Ling returned to the Duan residence.

He called for servants to prepare hot water for a bath, washing away the soot, before retiring to his bed.

However, after lying down for a long time, Duan Ling found himself unable to sleep, instead growing more alert. 

He decided not to stay in bed any longer and got up to attend to official duties, but just then, a craving surged over him.

The craving was like a tempest, engulfing him completely, yet also like a gentle rain, silently seeping into his being.

Duan Ling quickly grabbed a dagger and made a cut on his wrist next to an old scar.

Blood dripped from his wrist, staining the bedding and the surrounding scars. 

The pain from the torn flesh spread through his limbs, attempting to suppress the craving.

But after waiting for a while, the craving didn’t subside; it still thrived beneath his clothes, forming a noticeable outline.

The new wound on his wrist had already stopped bleeding on its own, and the pain had also lessened over time.

Only the abnormality remained, giving him a different kind of swelling pain. 

It was out of control; now even cutting his wrist could no longer suppress the craving.

Why had it become uncontrollable…?

Every time before, it had worked, including the morning after an unconscious nocturnal emission. 

What has changed? 

Duan Ling lowered his gaze and made a second cut on his wrist.

The blade landed on the previous wound, reopening the flesh that had been pseudo-sealed by coagulated blood. 

The moment the flesh was torn, blood gushed out again, doubling the pain.

Duan Ling didn’t remove the dagger, keeping the sharp blade pressed against the wound.

He meticulously felt the pain from the cuts, expressionlessly watching the blood flow from his body, thoroughly soaking the bedding, while the room filled with an increasingly heavy smell of blood.

The wound was almost mashed by the blade, yet the abnormality remained, lurking in place.

Duan Ling switched to the other hand, making two cuts on his left wrist as well.

 Both hands were now dripping with blood, the pale skin blooming with blood flowers, like crimson plums blooming to their fullest in the extreme cold.

The more blood he lost, the more his face didn’t pale, instead showing an abnormal flush.

Sweat from the pain slid past Duan Ling’s widow’s peak, over his beautiful brows, down the bridge of his nose, and finally fell, passing his suspended hands, landing between his legs.

Two intense temperatures met through layers of fabric, producing a soft impact, as if the abnormality had been gently touched, bringing a twisted pleasure amidst the pain.

Duan Ling involuntarily moaned, his long eyelashes trembling, a drop of sweat falling like a tear.

Then, he instinctively tilted his pale neck, sweat flowing over his bobbing Adam’s apple, disappearing into his slightly open collar, the beads of sweat brushing against his jade-like skin, settling into the hollow of his collarbone.

His blood-smeared hands were slippery, and in a moment of inattention, he lost his grip on the dagger, which clattered to the edge of the bed before falling to the ground.

The dagger lay quietly on the floor, its splattered blood staining the carpet.

Duan Ling pursed his lips, his fingers deeply embedded in the bedding, clenching, leaving blood-colored marks, creating folds that seemed to tremble lightly, resisting wave after wave of intense craving.

After two quarters of an hour, he looked as if he had just emerged from water, completely drenched, with a hint of redness at the corners of his eyes, the tip of his nose, and his thin lips, his long hair disheveled, a few strands sticking to his cheeks.

It still wasn’t enough.

Duan Ling’s vision was blurred by sweat, staring into the void, his breathing erratic.

Finally, he gave in, taking hold of himself, providing relief.

The moment it happened, overwhelming pleasure surged in. 

For some reason, a slim figure running against the light, very blurry, flashed through Duan Ling’s mind, and he unconsciously moved his red and white mixed fingers.