Chapter 87: Completing the Task (2/2)

Lin Ting watched her go, then returned to her own room with Duan Ling.

Inside, a gust from the open window had snuffed out several candles, dimming the room. 

Duan Ling lit a match, the flame flickering in his dark eyes.

“Xia Zimo told me Lingyun accepted his blood-written marriage contract.”

The candles flared to life, casting their shadows sharply on the floor.

Lin Ting perched cross-legged on the luohan couch, studying their silhouettes.

“Lingyun told me the same.”

Duan Ling extinguished the match, brushing his fingers over the flame as if it couldn’t burn him.

The red glow danced on his elegant fingertips, a pleasing sight.

“You don’t seem pleased about their decision to marry.”

Lin Ting gripped the couch’s railing, her voice blunt.

“I’m not.”

“Why?” Another candle flickered out in the breeze.

Duan Ling crossed to the window, removed the stick propping it open, and shut it, ensuring no more flames would falter.

Lin Ting’s anger morphed into hunger.

She grabbed a plate of pastries, shoving one into her mouth and swallowing hard.

“Xia Zimo doesn’t deserve her.”

He relit the candle, then dipped his hands into a basin to wash.

“That’s all?”

The mention of Xia Zimo set her off again.

“He’s no good. If I had my way, Lingyun would find someone better.”

Not follow the scripted path of a lifelong bond with him.

Duan Ling chuckled softly, drying his hands.

“Plenty of noblewomen in the capital dream of marrying Xia Zimo, of becoming his wife. Yet in your eyes, he’s no good. “

Lin Ting polished off the pastries.

“They’re just blinded by his face, like Lingyun.”

Duan Ling wiped his hands meticulously.

“You really think so little of him?”

Lin Ting grabbed a cushion, imagining it was Xia Zimo, and punched it hard.

“Yes, he’s no good, and he doesn’t deserve her,” she repeated, teeth gritted.

She didn’t care if she insulted him.

His actions warranted it—cowardly, evasive, hiding behind claims of “doing what’s best” for others.

Duan Ling studied her face, brushing a crumb from her lip.

“Didn’t you once say I wasn’t even fit to lick your feet?”

Why bring that up now?

Lin Ting met his gaze, feeling as if the whirlpool in his eyes might swallow her whole.

“I told you that was just a rumor,” she said, though admitting the truth wasn’t easy.

He said nothing, just watched her.

Fine, she got it—he’d never bought her excuse.

“Alright, I did say it back then. But I was young and foolish, talking nonsense. You don’t need to take it to heart. Besides, our situation is different from Lingyun and Xia Zimo’s.”

Lin Ting blinked, tugging at his wrist guard.

“How about I apologize?”

Duan Ling’s lips curved into a faint smile.

“Back then, you probably meant it. You were just being honest. What’s there to apologize for?”

She couldn’t outtalk him.

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

Lin Ting pressed a finger to the naturally upturned corner of his eye.

“I can’t describe it. What are you thinking?”

His lashes brushed her finger as he glanced up.

“I’m thinking how different you are now from when you were a child.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she pulled her hand back.

“Different how? Looks or personality? That’s normal—everyone changes as they grow. You’re not the same as you were either.”

She could be open with him about almost anything, except the truth of her transmigration and awakening.

Even if the system allowed it, who would believe her?

They’d think she was mad.

If she hadn’t lived it herself, she wouldn’t believe in transmigration either.

Duan Ling regarded her for a long moment, then straightened with a smile.

“True. As a child, you despised me. Now, you like me enough to propose publicly and marry me.”

Lin Ting touched her nose, flustered.

“I didn’t despise you. Don’t misunderstand. I never did. I was just… immature back then.”

She hadn’t hated him since awakening.

Her initial avoidance wasn’t out of dislike but fear that he’d recall her past actions and seek revenge.

The conversation had veered too far, back to childhood.

Lin Ting tried to steer it back by asking, “You don’t oppose Lingyun and Xia Zimo’s marriage?”

Duan Ling’s tone was calm and he said, “It’s her choice. Why would I oppose it?”

“Fair enough.”

Their engagement was private, known to few.

Unless Xinning revealed the blood-written contract, even if Xia Zimo’s rebellion failed, she and the Duan family would remain untouched.

Lin Ting pushed the matter aside, her thoughts turning to her task: acquiring an aphrodisiac and drugging Xia Zimo.

The catch was doing it secretly, without anyone—not even Duan Ling or Xinning—knowing.

Hiding it from Xinning was easy, but from Duan Ling?

Near impossible.

She was always shadowed by Imperial guards or Duan Ling himself.

How could she find an opportunity?

There was none.

Frustrated, Lin Ting lightly banged her head against the couch’s backrest.

After two thumps, she hit something softer—Duan Ling’s hand, extended to cushion her.

She stopped.

He gazed into her eyes.

“What’s wrong? You look lost.”

Lin Ting slid off the couch to wash up before bed.

“Lingyun’s sudden arrival in Ancheng, her pregnancy, and now accepting Xia Zimo’s contract—it’s a lot to process.”

Duan Ling settled where she’d been sitting.

“It’s mainly the contract, isn’t it? Before Xia Zimo arrived tonight, you and Lingyun were fine in the courtyard.”

Lin Ting brushed her teeth with a willow twig and tooth powder, her words muffled.

“Exactly. Like I said, Xia Zimo doesn’t deserve her.”

Duan Ling asked abruptly, “So, you plan to convince her to call off the engagement?”

She kept brushing.

“No. It’s her choice. I’ll give my opinion, but it’s up to her to decide.”

He didn’t press further.

From the night Xinning accepted the contract, Xia Zimo began sneaking over daily to see her, without fail for over ten days.

Yet Lin Ting still hadn’t found a chance to complete her task.

Duan Ling took her everywhere, even to the yamen for official duties.

It wasn’t that he suspected her plans, but rather a precaution to keep her safe from rebels who might abduct her again to threaten Jin Anzai.

During this time, the Xie family’s army had attacked Ancheng several times, each attempt ending in “failure.” Lin Ting knew the Marquis of Shian and the rebel Xie army were putting on a show for the prince in Ancheng and Emperor Jiade in the capital, but she couldn’t fathom their next move.

Still, she wasn’t worried about their safety if the city fell.

Xia Zimo might be useless in many ways, but he’d never let harm come to Xinning or her family.

He feared her hatred, her disgust.

So, Lin Ting’s only concern was completing her task before the deadline.

Duan Ling’s voice broke her reverie.

“It’s time to head to the yamen.”

Lin Ting dawdled out of the back courtyard, eyeing his figure ahead.

Hesitantly, she ventured, “Can I skip going with you today?”

It wasn’t that she disliked his company, but she desperately needed time to work on her task.

He turned and asked, “Why?”

She used Xinning as a shield.

“I want to stay and keep Lingyun company.”

Duan Ling adjusted his wrist guard and said, “I hear Lingyun’s been sleeping a lot lately, even during the day, only perking up at night. What would you do here—nap with her?”

Lin Ting froze.

Quickly, she pivoted to another excuse.

“Actually, I just want to sleep more myself.”

His gaze settled on her face.

“The yamen has a reception hall. Haven’t you been napping there at noon these past few days? You can sleep there today too. Why stay at the estate?”

Before she could respond, an Imperial guard approached with a letter.

“My lord, a letter from the capital for the young madam.”

Lin Ting took it and opened it.

It was from her mother, Li Jingqiu, sent after viewing Ying Zhihe’s portrait, which had been mailed back to the capital.