Jin Anazi didn’t say much.
He wasn’t here to see Lin Ting every day; today’s visit was purely to check if she was still alive.
“Alright, I’ll remember that. Thank you for your trouble tonight, Lord Duan.”
Duan Ling, ever considerate, replied, “You’re too polite, Mr. Jin. Since I’m about to marry her, and you’re her friend, you’re also my friend.”
His gaze once again swept over Jin Anazi’s mask.
“Everyone staying on North Long Street must have their identity confirmed. Mr. Jin, you’ll need to remove your mask.”
Jin Anazi didn’t hesitate.
He untied the mask, revealing his full face.
His left cheek was nearly flawless-handsome and fair.
On his right cheek, however, there was a finger-length scar.
Though the scar wasn’t deep, it was still noticeable, and a thin layer of sweat covered his skin, not yet wiped away.
Aside from the scar on his right cheek, Jin Anazi’s appearance was undeniably exceptional.
Duan Ling turned to Lin Ting.
“Didn’t you say Mr. Jin was too ugly and wore the mask to avoid scaring people? But I think he’s even more handsome than the male escorts you picked at Moonlight Pavilion.”
Why was he bringing up her visit to Moonlight Pavilion again?
It was the princess who had chosen the escorts for her to pick from, not her own initiative.
But that wasn’t the important matter now, so Lin Ting didn’t argue further.
Back then, she hadn’t known Jin Anazi’s true identity and feared he might be a notorious fugitive.
To stop Duan Ling from removing Jin Anazi’s mask and seeing his face, she had lied, claiming he was hideously ugly.
Words once spoken were like water spilled-impossible to take back.
So Lin Ting didn’t bother trying to retract her statement.
Instead, she doubled down, lying through her teeth.
“Yes, I think he’s extremely ugly.”
Jin Anazi let her speak without refuting her.
Duan Ling clearly didn’t believe her.
“You really think Mr. Jin is unattractive? What exactly is unattractive about him?”
Lin Ting hadn’t expected him to press further.
Against her conscience, she replied, “He has a scar on his face. It’s too ugly. Without the scar, maybe he’d be passable.”
Duan Ling unconsciously touched his wrist, his fingertips brushing over the scars hidden beneath his sleeve, seemingly distracted.
“Just because of a scar, you think Mr. Jin is ugly?”
Lin Ting even gestured for emphasis.
“Yes, the scar is too ugly. It’s so long and so big.”
She had once seen the crisscrossing scars on Duan Ling’s wrist at Moonlight Pavilion when he was shirtless, but now, in her haste to cover her lie, she didn’t recall that.
The corner of Duan Ling’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
“I see.”
Jin Anazi knew Lin Ting was just trying to cover for her earlier words and didn’t take it to heart.
Besides, when they argued, the insults they hurled at each other were far worse than calling someone ugly.
Being called ugly was mild in comparison.
Duan Ling lowered his hand and raised his gaze, his eyes returning to Lin Ting’s face.
“Then, in your eyes, what does it take to be considered good-looking?”
Lin Ting glanced at him.
“It’s all about personal preference. If you ask me, I can’t really put it into words.”
She blinked, feeling the conversation had strayed too far.
Duan Ling’s gaze shifted back to the scar on Jin Anazi’s face, as if casually asking, “Mr. Jin, how did you get that injury? Though the scar has faded, I can tell it was quite severe at the time.”
Jin Anazi seemed momentarily lost in thought.
That scar was left on the day the kingdom fell.
Rebel forces stormed the palace, killing everyone in sight.
At the time, he was still a young prince, unable to shoulder any responsibility or lift a hand in defense.
Even after changing into a eunuch’s clothes, he was slashed across the face by a rebel soldier.
The moment the blood splattered, he hadn’t even realized what had happened before he was pinned beneath the body of a palace maid.
He inhaled the pungent scent of blood, witnessing the surrounding area drenched in a river of gore.
The rebels, having slaughtered everyone in the palace, moved deeper into the imperial grounds, unaware that he still lived.
Jin Anazi lay motionless for a long time before slowly attempting to push the corpses off himself, desperate to escape.
But his limbs were too weak; he couldn’t even move a single body.
Just as Jin Anazi resigned himself to his fate, a young man approached, pushed aside the body of a palace maid lying on top of him, and carried him out.
The young man still addressed him with respect, “Your Highness, I’ve arrived too late.”
Jin Anazi opened his eyes to see a face that was somewhat delicate yet exuded an air of integrity.
The young man’s eyes were filled with genuine concern, not the feigned sympathy he was accustomed to seeing.
It was this young man who helped him find his still-living mother and devised a plan to smuggle them out of the palace.
Jin Anazi didn’t have a deep impression of the man, only vaguely remembering that he was a righteous official his father had spoken of, named Ying Zhihe.
Ying had pretended to pledge allegiance to the new regime, seizing the opportunity to rescue them.
However, after that day, Jin Anazi never saw Ying Zhihe again.
If given the chance, he would have liked to express his gratitude.
On the day the kingdom fell, he had been in a daze, not even managing to say a simple “thank you.”
As he grew older, Jin Anazi did try to inquire about Ying Zhihe’s whereabouts.
If he were still alive, he would be around forty now, but it seemed as though the man had vanished from the world without a trace.
What a pity.
Thinking of this, Jin Anazi touched the scar on his face, suppressing the memories, and said indifferently, “Back then, someone tried to kill me. Their blade slashed my face but missed my vitals.”
For someone who had lived a life on the edge in the martial world, where survival was never guaranteed, his response was fitting.
Lin Ting felt reassured.
Duan Ling never sympathized with anyone; it seemed he was born devoid of such emotions, merely observing others’ pain and struggles.
As a child subjected to drug trials, he had watched countless people die around him without feeling much.
Thus, Duan Ling simply said kindly, “It seems you’ve endured much hardship, Young Master Jin.”
Jin Anazi replied, “There are many in the world who’ve suffered more than I have. Surviving alone puts me ahead of most. As a member of the Imperial Guards, you must have seen countless people endure all kinds of suffering. After all, no one’s life is ever smooth sailing.”
Duan Ling nodded, “Indeed, no one’s life is ever smooth sailing.”
Jin Anazi had no desire to dwell on the past or speak further of it.
His tone was cold as he asked, “Is there anything else you wish to ask, Lord Duan?”
“There’s one more thing. You’ll need to hand over your sword to me.”
During the lockdown of North Long Street, civilians were prohibited from carrying weapons to prevent attacks on the Imperial Guards stationed there.
Jin Anazi handed his sword to Duan Ling.
“Please take me to another inn.”
“Wait,” Lin Ting interjected, wanting to find a handkerchief for Jin Anazi to wipe the sweat from hiding in the cabinet.
She realized she had none left the last one had been given to Duan Ling.
“Jin Anazi, use your own sleeve to wipe your sweat.”
Jin Anazi retorted, “You won’t even spare me a handkerchief? You’re truly stingy.”
He knew Lin Ting was frugal but hadn’t realized she was this miserly.
Lin Ting sighed, “I’m out.”
She had given Duan Ling several handkerchiefs, and they had all been used up.
It wasn’t that she was unwilling to share.
Lin Ting felt wronged.
“Lord Duan, do you have any handkerchiefs left?”
Duan Ling replied, “I’m out too.”
Jin Anazi glanced at Lin Ting and eventually wiped his sweat directly with his sleeve.
The sleeve, tightened with a wrist guard, felt slightly stiff, not as soft as a handkerchief, and it made his skin ache a little.
Still, it was better than letting the sweat stick to his face, which would have been even more uncomfortable.
After Jin Anazi finished wiping his sweat, Duan Ling pushed open the door with practiced ease and walked out.
“Young Master Jin, put your mask away and follow me.”
Jin Anazi carried the mask and walked out, closing the door behind him as he followed Duan Ling.
Lin Ting stayed inside the room and did not come out.
The inn had three floors, each guarded by two Imperial Guards.
When they saw Duan Ling, they first saluted, then looked at Jin Anazi behind him and asked in confusion, “Sir, who is this?”
The Imperial Guards stationed here were familiar with the people staying inside, but they had never seen this man before.
Moreover, they hadn’t noticed Duan Ling bringing anyone in earlier.
Did he come out of the room?
They remembered that the room was occupied by Miss Lin Qi, who was engaged to Duan Ling.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have always given her two portions of food.
Today at noon, she had even asked for three portions she had quite an appetite.
Duan Ling explained succinctly, “He’s the one who accidentally wandered into North Long Street today. I’m taking him to get settled. Do you have an extra face cloth? Give him one.”
The Imperial Guards were puzzled.
Accidentally wandered in?
Both ends of North Long Street were guarded by Imperial Guards.
How could an ordinary person accidentally wander in?
Despite their confusion, they didn’t question Duan Ling.
What the superior said was law.
Besides, he wasn’t taking the man out but bringing him in.
It was easy to enter this place but hard to leave.
They didn’t ask further and handed Jin Anazi a face cloth before returning to their posts.
As Duan Ling went downstairs, he encountered another Imperial Guard who was responsible for bringing people into the inn to settle them.
The guard was leading a man dressed in plain clothes.
When he saw Duan Ling, he reported proactively, “This man hid in a remote alley for two days, trying to find a chance to escape. We only found him today. I’m bringing him here to settle him.”
Jin Anazi caught the key detail and asked, “Isn’t this inn out of rooms?”
The Imperial Guard wasn’t sure who Jin Anazi was, but seeing him with Duan Ling, he assumed he was someone of importance and answered truthfully, “Sir, there’s still one room left.”
Jin Anazi turned to Duan Ling.
“Sir Duan, didn’t you just say there were no rooms?”
Duan Ling glanced at the man being led in by the Imperial Guard and replied, “I must have misheard. If you really want to stay at this inn, I can have the Imperial Guards take him to another inn.”
The man, already in a bad mood after being captured by the Imperial Guards, protested loudly when he heard he might have to move again, “I want to stay at this inn!”
He even sat down on the stairs.
The Imperial Guard pointed his embroidered spring sword at the man and barked, “Shut up! You’ll go wherever we arrange for you to go. No more nonsense.”
Duan Ling seemed to be quite considerate in giving Jin Anazi the choice, his demeanor as gentle as a Bodhisattva lowering his gaze:
“Young Master Jin, would you like to switch with this man?”
The room was still clean since the man hadn’t moved in yet.
If Jin Anazi wanted to switch, all he had to do was say the word.
Seeing that the man was unwilling, Jin Anazi didn’t want to force the issue: “No need to switch.”
Having received his answer, Duan Ling proceeded with official business and instructed the Imperial Guard:
“Then take him upstairs. Has his identity been confirmed?”
“Reporting to you, sir, it has been confirmed.”
The Imperial Guard sheathed his embroidered spring sword and hauled the man, who wore a shameless expression, upstairs.
The man cursed and grumbled, but the Imperial Guard slapped him across the face in response.
The man covered his cheek and dared not make another sound.
Jin Anazi fell silent.
Compared to the other Imperial Guards of the Northern Administrative Bureau, Duan Ling could indeed be considered “gentle”-though it was a gentleness laced with poison.
Duan Ling continued walking downstairs and noticed Jin Anazi standing still: “Young Master Jin?”
Jin Anazi followed him.