The wind rustled through the flowers and grass, their whispers loud in Duan Ling’s ears.
He felt as though he were stranded on a cliff, parched by the scorching sun.
Blinded by the light, he instinctively grasped at a flower-it held the water he desperately needed.
Duan Ling’s thin lips parted slightly as he fumbled by instinct, brushing against the petals before slowly drawing them into his mouth.
A faint dampness barely touched his thirst, far from enough to quench it.
In the end, he crushed the flower between his teeth, hoping for even a drop of drinkable moisture.
The flower yielded a scant trickle of nectar, just enough to ease his torment slightly.
Revived by the meager relief, he clung to life.
Though the sun still hammered against his bones, Duan Ling felt marginally better.
Yet thirst, once briefly sated, only grew fiercer, demanding more.
He longed to drink deeply, to drown in satisfaction, so he continued to chew the flower, coaxing every pitiful drop of nectar onto his tongue.
As the trickle grew, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing greedily.
Suddenly, a hand yanked him forcefully from the cliff’s edge-as if rescuing him.
His eyes fluttered open, vision slowly sharpening on the person who had pulled him free.
Lin Ting gazed at him with an inscrutable expression.
His face, flushed from the sun, was tilted upward, his lips stained red with flower juice.
He should have looked wretched, yet on him, it wasn’t dishevelment-it was allure.
She didn’t stare long before releasing him and, just like last time, hurried off to fetch water.
Her footsteps were quick, erratic-whether from urgency or something else, it was impossible to tell.
Duan Ling pressed his juice-tinted lips together and waited, motionless, for her return.
She wasn’t gone long.
When Lin Ting reappeared, Duan Ling leaned forward to drink from the water she held, the motion making it seem as though she were feeding him like some delicate nobleman, though in truth, he was a ruthless imperial guard whose deeds were anything but fragile.
As he swallowed, Lin Ting blurted, “Why are you drinking it? Spit it out!”
She wanted him to expel whatever was in his mouth.
Even if novels romanticized such acts, she doubted it was safe to ingest.
If possible, it was better to rid himself of it.
He ignored her, taking several deliberate gulps.
Lin Ting had no choice but to relent.
Duan Ling drank slowly-so slowly that Lin Ting’s limbs grew weary, her legs trembling faintly from standing too long.
He tugged lightly at her skirt.
“If you can’t stand, why not sit?”
After a brief hesitation, she settled beside him.
There wasn’t much space to begin with, and she still needed to help him drink.
After a few more sips, Duan Ling stopped.
Lin Ting studied his face, searching for something but found nothing.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
A faint smirk curled his lips as he chuckled softly, the laugh of a venomous beauty-exquisite on the outside, lethal within.
A single touch could be fatal.
In the past, Lin Ting might have kept her distance.
But now, she couldn’t—not anymore.
A reckless urge even stirred in her to reach out, to test just how poisonous the toxicity beneath that flawless surface truly was.
The thought startled her.
Then, she realized how often she’d indulged Duan Ling, how easily she’d grown accustomed to him.
Her gaze flickered, and she blurted, “You’re good-looking, alright?”
She said nothing of what had just transpired.
Duan Ling’s fingers trailed up Lin Ting’s skirt before clasping her hand:
“So it seems you’re quite fond of this outer shell of mine.”
Lin Ting was left speechless.
His fingertips slid between hers—a sensation both ticklish and warm-making Lin Ting involuntarily lower her gaze.
Suddenly, Duan Ling raised his arm to embrace her, blocking her downward glance.
Lin Ting’s hands-initially hanging by her sides— eventually rose to encircle his waist.
Their breaths mingled indistinguishably, yet Lin Ting still inhaled deeply.
Soon after, Duan Ling pushed her away:
“You should rest first.”
She blinked in surprise:
“What about you?”
“My condition is acting up.”
Understanding dawned on her:
“So you were just distracting yourself from the pain earlier?”
Duan Ling: “Yes, and no.”
“If you’re unwell, how can I leave you alone to rest? Let me stay with you.”
He averted his eyes: “Not tonight. This episode is more severe than before I might not be able to control myself and could hurt you.”
Lin Ting worried: “You’ve never hurt me before. Why would tonight be different?”
Mid-sentence, dizziness overcame her, and she collapsed.
“You drugged me again…”
Lin Ting slept soundly until dawn.
When she awoke, Duan Ling was still there, his back to her as he applied a translucent ointment to his wrist, the armguard set aside.
But Lin Ting only saw his silhouette:
“What are you doing?”
Considering his suffering, she let the drugging incident pass without comment and didn’t inquire about last night’s episode his current wellbeing was answer enough.
Duan Ling paused, lowering the sleeve he’d rolled up to his wrist.
He picked up the armguard and fastened it calmly, the still-damp scars from the ointment disappearing once more beneath the fabric:
“Waiting for you to wake so we can dine together.”
Noticing the late hour, Lin Ting hurriedly rose:
“Have you been waiting long?”
“Not very.”
She gathered her long hair with one hand while securing it with ribbons held between her teeth:
“You could have eaten first or woken me instead of waiting.”
Duan Ling pressed briefly on the stubborn scars beneath his armguard:
“It’s fine. I’ve no business today.”
Her hands stilled mid-motion:
“No business? Why? I thought you’d be busy arriving in Ancheng.”
If he was free today, how could she meet Jin Anazi at the teahouse?
“The Crown Prince and Marquis should be the busy ones. We Imperial Guards need only gather intelligence at the right moments, then monitor the city officials when they make moves. Since we’ve just arrived, they’ll be overly cautious-surveillance would be pointless now. Better to do nothing and lull them into complacency.”
Lin Ting’s plans were thoroughly disrupted: “No other official duties either?”
He rinsed the ointment-scented hand in water and said:
“None. Didn’t you say you were bored alone? Since I’m free today, I can accompany you wherever you wish to go.”
At this, she accidentally pulled the hair ribbon into a tight knot and said:
“Shouldn’t you rest on your rare day off? Won’t accompanying me everywhere be too tiring?”
Duan Ling dried his hands, ensuring no medicinal scent remained by pressing his sachet, then approached her.
“Not at all. Don’t you enjoy tavern performances? There’s an establishment in Ancheng with particularly rare acts—I think you’d like it.”
Lin Ting struggled to untie the stubborn knot on the silk ribbon: “Have you been to Ancheng before?”
He reached over her hands and effortlessly loosened the knot:
“The Imperial Guards thoroughly investigate every place before visiting. So right now, I might know Ancheng better than its own residents.”
The knot that had stubbornly resisted Lin Ting’s efforts came undone easily in Duan Ling’s hands.
Yet instead of returning the ribbon, he held it in his palm, gently gathering her hair to retie it:
“Would you like to go out today, or stay in the courtyard?”
Going out was always better than being confined to the courtyard all day.
Outside, she might find an excuse to slip away to the teahouse- something far more difficult within the courtyard walls.
Lin Ting: “I’d like to go out.”
“Good.”
Duan Ling gathered a strand of her hair, securing the ribbon with a knot that was neither too tight nor too loose-firm enough to hold yet gentle enough not to cause discomfort, so she wouldn’t even notice how securely it was tied.
They left after breakfast.
On their way to the restaurant, their carriage passed yesterday’s teahouse.
When Duan Ling wasn’t looking, Lin Ting stole a few glances outside, though from this distance, she couldn’t clearly see whether Jin Anazi had arrived yet.
It was still early, just past mid-morning-not yet the noon hour they had agreed upon.
The real challenge, however, was how to obtain the information Jin Anazi had gathered without Duan Ling noticing.
Lin Ting felt her brain cells dying one by one in her desperate attempts to complete this mission.
Duan Ling followed her gaze outside:
“What are you looking at? Isn’t that the teahouse you visited yesterday? Do you want to go again?”
She seized the opportunity and replied:
“Yes, the storyteller there was so captivating I’d love to hear him again.”
A perfectly legitimate reason to return to the teahouse had presented itself, and she wasn’t about to let it slip.
He studied the teahouse in silence.
Lin Ting tried to sound casual:
“If you don’t enjoy teahouse storytelling, you can head back to the residence after we visit the restaurant. Or wait for me somewhere else.”
Instead of answering, Duan Ling asked:
“If the storyteller was so good, why did you fall asleep there yesterday?”
Lin Ting feigned regret: “I was exhausted from days of travel-I dozed off halfway through. Otherwise, I would’ve stayed till the end.”
He seemed to accept this: “After we watch the performance at the restaurant, I’ll accompany you to the teahouse.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Lin Ting protested.
“Do you even like storytelling? Don’t force yourself if you don’t.”
Duan Ling’s gaze lingered on her face as he smiled faintly:
“I enjoy reading, but rarely listen to storytellers. There’s no harm in trying-how else would I know whether I like it? It’s no hardship. Unless… you’d rather I didn’t come?”
Lin Ting sighed inwardly: “……I’d like you to come.”
He casually lifted the opposite curtain, observing the bustling streets filled with crowds and carriages.
Lin Ting fidgeted with her fingers:
“Could we make it to the teahouse before noon? Yesterday’s storyteller begins at midday.”
Duan Ling turned to her thoughtfully: “Of course. It’s always best to hear a story from the beginning that way, you get the full experience. Otherwise, even the finest tale loses its charm when heard out of sequence.”
Ancheng’s restaurants were no less impressive than those in the capital-in some aspects, they even surpassed them.
Lin Ting’s first impression upon entering was that the prices were reasonable for such exceptional quality.
The capital’s customs were open, but Ancheng surpassed even that, with locals being exceptionally warm and welcoming.
As Lin Ting sat watching the performance, the performers would occasionally jump down to interact with the audience.
One young woman even handed her a flower.
But before the flower could even warm in her grasp, it ended up in Duan Ling’s hands.
It started when Lin Ting noticed Duan Ling staring at the flower and assumed he liked it, so she gave it to him.
It was just a flower, after all— not gold or jewels.
Yet for some reason, when she saw Duan Ling lower his head to inhale its scent, her mind flashed back to last night.
Last night, when she had pulled Duan Ling out from under her skirt, the first thing she saw was his face-more striking than any flower- his lips still glistening with traces of her, carrying a faintly sweet, metallic tang.
She could have stopped him again this time, the moment he leaned in to kiss her.
But Lin Ting considered that they had been married for a while now, gradually growing accustomed to more intimate acts.
And, admittedly, she had come to enjoy such closeness.
So she let him do as he pleased.
Yet when Duan Ling kissed there, the sensation was too overwhelming.
Unprepared, her legs nearly cramped, and she ended up pushing him away.
Had she not, his lips and tongue would have ventured deeper.
The memory alone made her flush with heat.
She set aside the tavern’s warming liquor and poured herself two cups of chilled tea to cool down.