Lin Ting with surprise asked, “He’s looking for me?”
The servant nodded, “Yes.”
What could that scoundrel Xia Zhimo want with her?
Had he quarreled with Duan Xingning again, worried about upsetting her pregnancy, and now wanted Lin Ting to mediate?
The thought alone sparked her irritation, but she knew she had to strategize to complete her task.
Today wasn’t the day to drug Xia Zhimo—the aphrodisiac was still buried in the neighboring courtyard, and with no time to dig it up, especially with Duan Ling wide awake, she didn’t dare risk it.
But this meeting could be a chance to learn Xia Zhimo’s movements over the next few days, allowing her to plan the drugging.
Her mind buzzed with calculations as she told the servant, “Tell him to wait a moment. I’ll be there soon.”
This was an open, legitimate meeting—she had no reason to feel guilty.
Still, she stole a glance at Duan Ling.
He showed no reaction.
Clearing her throat, Lin Ting said, “Xia Zhimo probably wants to talk about Lingyun.”
Duan Ling’s response was a simple, “Mm.”
She sat on the low couch, slipping on her shoes, the silk tassels swaying gently.
“I’m going, then?”
“Go ahead.”
The residence wasn’t large, and within moments, Lin Ting reached the main hall.
Xia Zhimo sat near the entrance, rising as she approached.
Without preamble, he said, “Young Master Jin wishes to see you.”
Lin Ting had been so consumed by her task that she hadn’t kept up with news about Jin Anazi.
One had to look out for oneself before others, after all.
“Has Jin Anazi’s injury healed?” she asked.
Xia Zhimo answered with deference.
“Young Master Jin is mostly recovered.”
Even knowing Xia Zhimo was merely a messenger today, Lin Ting didn’t soften her displeasure.
“Get to the point. Where and when does he want to meet?”
He named a tavern.
“Tomorrow night, at the third quarter of the Xu hour. I’ll be there as well.”
Lin Ting’s senses sharpened—this could be her chance to complete her task.
She kept her expression neutraland asked, “Why are you going?”
He hesitated but then he replied, “The medicine Young Master Jin took for his injury has temporarily robbed him of his martial skills. It’s unsafe for him to move alone, so Young Master Xie the Fifth asked me to stay by his side.”
“What?” Lin Ting’s temper flared.
She grabbed a chair, raising it as if to hurl it at him.
“The medicine made Jin Anazi lose his martial skills? Do you take me for a fool? Did you tamper with his medicine?”
Xia Zhimo, wary of both Lin Ting and Duan Ling after past encounters—Duan Ling’s near-fatal swing of an embroidered spring dagger and Lin Ting’s own blows, which he couldn’t return—stepped back quickly.
“We didn’t!” he protested.
Still gripping the chair, she shot him a cold look.
“Explain.”
“The injury was severe,” he said.
“To recover quickly, he needed special medicine. We asked Young Master Jin’s permission before using it, and he agreed.”
Lin Ting’s skepticism lingered.
“Fine, I’ll believe you for now. When will he recover?”
Xia Zhimo reached for the chair.
“In half a month. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Young Master Jin tomorrow night.”
“I understand.”
Before he could take the chair, she deliberately let it drop, smashing his foot.
He winced, words failing him.
“Miss Lin, you…”
She felt no remorse, her words sharp.
“What? You can’t handle this pain? Do you know the pain Lingyun will endure giving birth will be a thousand times worse?”
Duan Xingning wouldn’t say this to him, but Lin Ting would.
Xia Zhimo fell silent.
Finding him tiresome, Lin Ting waved him off.
“If there’s nothing else, you can leave.”
With that, she turned and left first.
Back in the room, she found Duan Ling standing by the window, gazing into the courtyard.
She joined him, leaning out.
“I’m back.”
He glanced at her.
She didn’t hide anything.
“Xia Zhimo came not about Lingyun but because Jin Anazi wants to see me. Tomorrow night, third quarter of the Xu hour, at Suichang Tavern.”
She spoke openly.
Duan Ling hadn’t mentioned the assassin who targeted the prince, nor was he fiercely loyal to Great Yan.
Even knowing Jin Anazi wanted to meet her, he wouldn’t act against him.
So she was candid.
“Shall I go with you?” Duan Ling asked, his gaze shifting to the wall bordering the neighboring courtyard, where vines climbed and a few flowers bloomed, butterflies fluttering around them.
Lin Ting followed his line of sight to the butterflies dancing in the courtyard.
“I’ll go alone. Xia Zhimo said he’ll send someone to escort me there and back. It’ll be fine.”
“Xia Zhimo will be there too?”
The breeze brushed her hand, and she spread her fingers, letting it slip through.
“Jin Anazi has lost his martial skills temporarily, so Young Master Xie doesn’t trust him to be alone. Xia Zhimo will accompany him.”
Duan Ling’s peripheral vision caught her hand.
“Then pass my regards to Young Master Jin tomorrow night.”
Lin Ting grinned and replied, “No problem.”
The thought of completing her task tomorrow night, shedding her burden, filled her with exhilaration.
She’d already planned how to explain drugging Xia Zhimo, but success hinged on actually doing it.
Everything was ready; all she needed was the right moment.
Duan Ling, hearing her buoyant tone, tapped the windowsill lightly with his fingers.
“When will you return tomorrow night?”
“Not too late.”
To drug Xia Zhimo tomorrow, she’d need to dig up the aphrodisiac tonight.
Time passed swiftly, and soon it was midnight.
Like before, Lin Ting sprinkled sedative on Duan Ling, waiting until his breathing deepened into steady sleep.
Only then did she slip out.
Practice made perfect.
In no time, she uncovered the soil hiding the aphrodisiac.
Wrapped carefully, it was untouched by dirt.
She retrieved it, filled the hole, and hurried back, lingering in the courtyard only briefly.
The autumn wind carried a sharp chill, colder than recent nights.
She dove under the blankets for warmth, only her head peeking out, eyes darting as her mind raced.
Shifting closer, she leaned toward Duan Ling’s ear and whispered, “Duan Ling?”
He didn’t stir.
Jin Anazi’s sedative was indeed superior.
Muttering to herself, she lay beside him, her gaze tracing from his eyes to his lips.
She called again, “Duan Ling?”
Still no response.
Satisfied, she settled back, pulling out her golden wealth god pendant.
Clutching it, she wished fervently for tomorrow’s success, repeating the prayer until she finally closed her eyes and slept.
She woke to the sun setting the next day.
Startled by the darkening sky outside, Lin Ting scrambled up.
How had she slept so late?
Duan Ling was already awake, seated on the low couch across the room, impeccably dressed.
He held a black chess piece in his left hand, a white one in his right, playing against himself.
Lin Ting hurriedly dressed and asked, “What time is it? It’s not past the Xu hour, is it?”
“Just reached the Xu hour,” he replied.
She rushed to wash and comb her hair.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“It’s only a quarter-hour to Suichang Tavern, and Xia Zhimo’s escort hasn’t arrived yet. No need to rush.”
Relieved that Xia Zhimo’s men hadn’t come, Lin Ting slowed down, yawning as she approached Duan Ling.
She noticed his chess game, locked in a stalemate.
“Why are you playing chess?”
“To calm my mind,” he said.
She grabbed a few pieces, tossing and catching them.
“Why do you need to calm your mind?”
His eyes remained fixed on the board, fingers grazing a piece.
“I’m thinking… how to handle something. It’s troubling my heart, so I need to calm it.”
Lin Ting nodded, tossing the pieces back into the box, their smooth surfaces clinking crisply in the quiet room.
“Is it a difficult matter?”
Duan Ling seemed to abandon the game, scattering the pieces with a sweep of his hand before returning them to the box.
“Very difficult.”
Lin Ting rarely heard him admit to being troubled.
Concerned, she said, “Can I help? If I can, just say so.”
Her mind might not match his, but two heads were better than one.
He looked at her steadily.
“It’s fine. It hasn’t happened yet.”
She offered comfort and said, “It hasn’t even happened, and you’re already worrying about how to handle it? Relax. Maybe it won’t happen at all. Don’t overthink it.”
“You’re right,” he said softly.
“Perhaps there’s still a chance it won’t come to pass.”
Lin Ting waited in the room, growing restless as no one arrived.
She moved to step outside, but Duan Ling stopped her.
“Are you really going to meet him?”
Puzzled, she replied, “Of course. Didn’t we agree last night?”
“I understand.”
He took out a packet of medicine, poured it into his tea, and drank it in front of her.
A chill of foreboding struck her.
The packet looked eerily familiar, like the aphrodisiac she’d bought, but before she could stop him, she blurted, “What did you just take?”
Duan Ling smiled faintly and replied, “Aren’t you going to meet him? Go ahead.”
The door was locked.