Chapter 86: [The mission officially begins] (2/2)

A princess? 

The servants murmured among themselves, bewildered by the day’s parade of high-ranking visitors—first a self-proclaimed Factory Supervisor, now a princess. 

Lin Ting’s mind raced. 

Wasn’t the princess supposed to be in the capital? 

Why come to Ancheng? 

Could it be for Jin Anazi? 

She washed the clay from her hands, shed her apron, and summoned two Imperial Guards to escort her outside.

Two understated carriages waited beyond the estate’s gates, flanked by a handful of attendants. 

Among them was a familiar face—a maid who had accompanied the princess to Moonlight Pavilion in search of courtesans. 

Lin Ting’s suspicion was confirmed: the woman in the carriage was indeed the princess. 

She bowed respectfully. 

“Your Highness.”

No sooner had she spoken than the curtain of the nearest carriage parted. 

A man stepped out first, clad in flowing purple robes, tall and lean, with phoenix-like eyes and thin lips. 

He was handsome enough, perhaps twenty-seven or twenty-eight. 

Lin Ting recognized him instantly—a paramour of the princess, one she’d seen speaking with Jin Anazi in a bookshop’s back courtyard. 

She also recalled how he’d used Jin Anazi’s name to worm his way into the Xie family, leading to their downfall.

Instinctively, she took a step back, her distaste for his scheming ways barely concealed. 

The man, long accustomed to reading others’ expressions, caught the subtle shift in her demeanor. 

Though Lin Ting hadn’t been overt, he sensed her disapproval. 

Unfamiliar with her and unaware of her connection to Jin Anazi, he assumed she scorned him for his status as a kept man. 

His eyes lowered, masking a flicker of resentment.

The princess emerged next, brushing aside his offered hand as she stepped down. 

Ignoring him, she strode toward Lin Ting, her voice bright but tinged with formality. 

“Miss Lin Qi, it’s been too long. I trust you’ve been well?”

Lin Ting responded with polite distance. 

“I’m quite well, thank you. What brings Your Highness to Ancheng?”

The princess’s presence outside the city gates wouldn’t have been questioned—rebel forces were camped nearby, and no guard would dare bar her entry, fearing for her safety. 

Lin Ting didn’t wonder how she’d entered the city, only why. 

The princess glanced at her maid and the eunuch disguised as a commoner, who promptly withdrew to a distance. 

Nine hidden guards, tasked with her protection, remained unseen but retreated as well. 

She then eyed the Imperial Guards flanking Lin Ting, who stood firm, awaiting their mistress’s command. 

Though the princess outranked them, the Imperial Guards answered to Duan Ling and feared his wrath should anything befall Lin Ting on their watch.

Lin Ting understood immediately—the princess was here about Jin Anazi. 

She dismissed the Imperial Guards. 

“You may go.”

“Yes, miss.”

The princess pulled Lin Ting away from the carriages, her composed facade crumbling into urgency. 

“Is Brother Qi here in Ancheng?” 

She’d gone to great lengths to confirm the rumor, sneaking away from the capital without her father’s knowledge. 

Upon arriving, she’d heard of the Crown Prince’s assassination attempt and instinctively knew Jin Anazi was involved.

Lin Ting, aware the princess had likely verified Jin Anazi’s presence, nodded. 

“He is in Ancheng.”

The princess stumbled, her voice a whisper. 

“Was it Brother Qi who tried to kill the Crown Prince?”

Lin Ting said nothing. 

The princess knew Jin Anazi’s true identity and perhaps even his reasons for targeting the Crown Prince. 

Denial was pointless.

The princess seized Lin Ting’s hand, then quickly released it, fearing she’d gripped too hard. 

“They say the assassin was gravely injured. How is he now?”

“He’s not in mortal danger,” Lin Ting replied.

Relief washed over the princess. 

“Can I see him?”

Lin Ting shook her head firmly. 

“No, not yet.” 

She didn’t mention that Jin Anazi was in the rebel camp.

Disappointment clouded the princess’s eyes, followed by a bitter smile. 

“I suppose Brother Qi wouldn’t want to see me anyway.” 

Her tone shifted, dropping the formal “this princess” for a simple, vulnerable “I.”

But the moment passed. 

She flashed a dazzling smile, slipping back into her persona as a princess who treated men like playthings. 

“On my way to Ancheng, I met someone else headed here, so I brought her along. I thought you should meet.” 

Lin Ting frowned, puzzled, as the princess approached the second carriage and lifted the curtain. 

“Miss Duan San, come out.”

Duan Xinning emerged slowly, one hand resting unconsciously on her still-slender waist, accompanied only by her maid, Zhilan. 

Lin Ting’s eyes widened, a mix of shock and exasperation. 

“Duan Lingyun, have you lost your mind? Coming to Ancheng without a word? With only a maid? If you hadn’t run into the princess, who knows what could’ve happened!” 

Was it for Xia Zimo that she’d thrown caution to the wind? 

Lin Ting was nearly beside herself. 

She’d known Duan Xinning for years but had never imagined her capable of such recklessness. 

She circled her friend, checking for any signs of injury, and only relaxed when she saw none.

“I won’t intrude on your reunion,” the princess said, summoning her entourage. 

“Until we meet again.” 

Supported by her paramour, she returned to her carriage, intent on visiting the Crown Prince to check on her brother.

Lin Ting thanked her and watched her depart before leading Duan Xinning into the estate. 

Zhilan, noticing Lin Ting pulling Duan Xinning along too quickly, called out, “Miss Lin… Madam, please slow down. The third miss isn’t feeling well and can’t walk so fast.”

Lin Ting slowed, glancing at Duan Xinning’s pale face. 

“You’re unwell?” 

Traveling for days could easily take a toll.

Duan Xinning’s eyes welled up, her voice breaking. 

“Leyun, I’m pregnant.”

Lin Ting felt as if lightning had struck her. 

“Pregnant? But the doctor said it was just a qi deficiency!” 

That same doctor had boasted decades of flawless diagnoses. 

Duan Xinning wiped her tears. 

“I don’t know how it happened. I saw other doctors later, and they all confirmed it.”

Lin Ting’s gaze dropped to her friend’s still-flat waist. 

“So you came to Ancheng for Xia Zimo?”

“No,” Duan Xinning said, clinging to her. 

“I came for you. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid my parents would find out, and you were the only one I could turn to.”

The situation was a tangled mess, complicated by Xia Zimo’s treason. 

Lin Ting led her into a room and shut the door and asked, “How did you sneak away from them?”

Duan Xinning’s voice was low when she replied, “I told them I wanted to spend half a month at a temple outside the capital, fasting and praying for Second Brother’s safety, and that I’d only take Zhilan.” 

She’d rarely lied to her parents, so they hadn’t suspected a thing.

Lin Ting fell silent. 

A dutiful daughter’s lie was apparently unbeatable. 

She touched Duan Xinning’s waist gently and asked, “How far along are you?”

“Two months.”

Lin Ting’s mind reeled. 

“Are you going to tell Xia Zimo?”

Zhilan wiped Duan Xinning’s tears as she sniffled. 

“We’re no longer together. Should I even tell him?”

Lin Ting was at a loss for words.

Some plotlines veered wildly off course, like her entanglement with Duan Ling. 

Others, like Duan Xinning and Xia Zimo’s, clung stubbornly to the original story, barreling toward an inevitable unwed pregnancy—likely because they were the tale’s fated protagonists. 

Lin Ting pressed her temples, exasperated. 

“Tell him. Otherwise, he’ll go on thinking he’s some tragic, devoted lover, living guilt-free.”

Fearing a misunderstanding, she added quickly, “Telling him doesn’t mean forgiving him.”

Duan Xinning, finding an anchor in her words, nestled into Lin Ting’s arms. 

“Alright, I’ll listen to you.”

As dusk fell, moonlight and candlelight spilled across the estate’s stone paths. 

Duan Ling returned, his boots clicking softly against the stones. 

In the courtyard, he spotted Lin Ting seated on a long bench, Duan Xinning’s head resting in her lap. 

His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but when Lin Ting looked up, his expression smoothed. 

He approached them.

Before he could ask, Lin Ting concisely explained the situation. 

Duan Ling listened quietly, his face betraying no emotion even at the news of his sister’s pregnancy, as if he were carved from ice. 

Yet his striking features—sharp yet softened by a delicate beauty—made it easy to overlook his coldness.

“Have you informed Xia Zimo?” he asked.

“I sent a message through the Imperial Guards,” Lin Ting replied. 

Given the circumstances, she knew Duan Ling wouldn’t mind her using his guards this once. 

She’d always been careful not to inquire about Xia Zimo through them, save for one carefully orchestrated question, and she knew better than to push her luck. 

Not all Imperial Guards were as sharp as Duan Ling, but they weren’t fools either.

She studied him closely. 

Duan Ling allowed a trace of brotherly concern to surface. 

“Has Xia Zimo responded?”

“Not yet,” Duan Xinning interjected.

“Second Brother, please don’t tell Mother and Father yet. I’ll tell them myself later.”

He neither agreed nor refused, only asking, “Do you want to end the pregnancy?”

Duan Xinning’s hand instinctively covered her belly, her head shaking firmly. 

“No. This is my child.”

Lin Ting sighed, her hand to her forehead. 

In this era, with its primitive medical conditions, both childbirth and abortion were perilous for women, each a gamble with death.

Duan Ling, never one to meddle, said nothing more. 

“Mm.”

Soon, a servant arrived and said, “Xia Zimo is here. He wishes to see the third miss.” 

Lin Ting had informed the household of Duan Xinning’s identity upon their arrival.

Duan Xinning stood, resolute.

Lin Ting hesitated. 

“Should I go with you to see him?”

Duan Xinning shook her head, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. 

“No, I’d like to speak with him alone. There are things I can’t say with you there.”

Lin Ting, half-rising, sank back onto the bench. 

“I’ll wait for you in the rear courtyard.”

Duan Ling stayed with her, keeping her company as they waited.

An hour passed, but Duan Xinning didn’t return. 

Instead, a system notification chimed in Lin Ting’s mind: 

‘[The male and female leads have decided to marry. The mission has officially begun. Host, please purchase aphrodisiac herbs and administer them to Xia Zimo as soon as possible.]’

Lin Ting froze, stunned. 

Marriage? 

In a single hour, they’d gone from “no forgiveness” to planning a wedding?