Chapter 91 (1/2): Everyone has a love for beauty

Lin Ting’s gaze instinctively darted to the sash where she’d hidden the medicine.

Before she could move, Duan Ling reached over, his fingers deftly retrieving a small packet from her waistband.

To the eye, it was nearly identical to the medicine he’d just taken.  

Her heart pounded like a war drum.  

Duan Ling unwrapped the packet, studying it with a faint, lingering smile in his eyes, as if it would never fade.

“What medicine is this?” he asked, though his tone suggested he already knew.  

Before she could answer, he tilted his hand, letting the powder spill onto the floor, staining the rug.

“Aphrodisiac,” he said coolly.  

Lin Ting’s breath caught.

That was the medicine she’d gone to great lengths to procure.

Without thinking, she stepped forward.  

Duan Ling caught her wrist, his grip firm but not harsh.

“No, it’s not. This is just ordinary powder. The real aphrodisiac you bought? I already took it.”  

Her eyes widened in shock.

“Swapped? When did you swap it?”

Was it the night she hid the medicine, or last night when she retrieved it?  

Duan Ling’s fingers brushed lightly across her cheek, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver through her.  

“That night you hid it, I was nearby. I watched you dig a hole with a branch and bury it. I was curious, so after you fell asleep, I dug it up to see what it was. I’m sorry for touching your things without permission.”  

Lin Ting froze.  

Why hadn’t her sedative worked on him?

Could he have anticipated her plan, taking an antidote both nights?

But that wasn’t the pressing issue now.

Without the aphrodisiac, her mission was likely doomed.

And worse—how was she supposed to explain the aphrodisiac to Duan Ling, let alone deal with the fact that he’d consumed it?  

Her eyes flickered nervously, landing on the teacup he’d used earlier, sitting innocently on the table.  

Duan Ling’s gaze locked onto hers, his thumb grazing the corner of her eye with an unnatural tenderness.

“I never would’ve guessed you were hiding an aphrodisiac. I wondered why you’d bought it. Was it for us to use together? After all, we’re married now, husband and wife.”  

The spot where his thumb lingered burned, the heat sinking deep into her skin.  

It wasn’t unheard of for couples to use such a drug to spice up their intimacy.

If she could’ve, Lin Ting would’ve loved to use that as her excuse, to buy the medicine openly.

But no—her mission required secrecy.

Duan Ling wasn’t supposed to know.

And now that he did, it meant she’d have to hide it from him again and buy another dose.  

Despair clawed at her.  

His smile widened, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“You hid it to surprise me. I waited night after night, but you never brought it out. I thought you’d forgotten, but then last night, you retrieved it. And today, you were carrying it to the tavern.”  

He leaned closer, his hand curling around the nape of her neck, his lips brushing the corner of hers.

His nose grazed her skin, carrying a slick, almost cloying intensity that stole her breath.

“This medicine—was it for Young Master Jin, or for Prince Xia?”  

Lin Ting finally found her voice.

“Neither. You were right before. It was for you.”

Since he’d discovered her hiding the medicine, she could treat it as a mundane matter and use the excuse that she’d bought it for him.  

Duan Ling murmured, “For me? Then why bring it to the tavern to meet Young Master Jin and the others?”  

She wanted to faint and escape this moment, but reality wouldn’t allow it.

She had to face this.

“I planned to use it on you tonight, after meeting them. That’s why I dug it up and carried it with me.”  

Duan Ling said nothing.

Instead, he raised his hand, and the key to the door’s lock sailed out the window.

It struck a tree outside with a faint clatter before falling silent on the ground.  

Lin Ting swallowed hard, her nerves fraying.

Seeing him toss the key, she considered climbing out the window to escape, to find a servant and tell Young Master Jin she couldn’t make it tonight.  

Of course, she’d return to the room.

She had no choice—Duan Ling had taken the aphrodisiac.  

“I’m stepping out for a moment…”  

“After all this, you’re still going?” Duan Ling pulled her back as she moved toward the window, his smile faltering.

“Lin Leyun, do you think I’ll believe you?”  

“I just want to send word to Young Master Jin that I can’t make it tonight!” she blurted, rushing to finish her thought.

“How could I leave you, knowing you’ve taken the aphrodisiac, to go see them?”  

Duan Ling studied her for a long moment, as if weighing the truth in her words.  

Then he lifted her onto the tea table, as if worried she’d tire from standing.

“No need. I already sent someone to tell Young Master Jin you can’t make it. That’s why Prince Xia hasn’t sent anyone to fetch you.”  

Realization dawned on Lin Ting.  

No wonder Xia Zimo was so late.

Duan Ling had acted while she slept, sending word to Young Master Jin that she wouldn’t be there.  

She could understand why he’d done it.

He thought she was taking the aphrodisiac to meet another man, to betray him.

After probing her repeatedly and finding no answers, he’d resorted to this to stop her.  

In any era, few could tolerate a spouse’s infidelity.

If it were her, learning her partner was stepping out, she’d thrash them first, then walk away.  

But she wasn’t betraying him.

Yes, she’d planned to use the medicine on someone, but not to cheat.  

Duan Ling watched her shifting expressions, a low chuckle escaping him.

Slowly, he tugged at her sash, letting it slide to the floor.

“Do you really like me?” he asked, his tone maddeningly patient.  

As the sash fell, her waist felt suddenly lighter, but she didn’t stop him.

She met his gaze, his eyes faintly red—perhaps from the drug’s effect—and said firmly, “I do. I like you.”  

They were so close, her body nearly pressed against his.

There was no escaping the heat radiating from him, or the slight tremor in his frame, stirred by some unspoken emotion.  

Duan Ling toyed with a strand of her hair, draped over her neck.

“Should I believe you?”  

She grabbed his wrist and said, “You can doubt anything else, but you have to believe this. I like you. Trust me.”

She wasn’t sure how deeply she felt it, but the feeling was real.  

His grip on her neck tightened briefly, then loosened just as quickly.  

He leaned closer, his lips brushing hers before pulling back, leaving a faint bite mark.

“I’ve always thought eyes don’t lie, but mouths do.”  

Lin Ting touched her bitten lip, exasperated, and looked up at him.

“Then look into my eyes. Do I look like I’m lying?”  

He studied her eyes in silence.  

Her heart raced as he said nothing.

“Well? Say something!”  

Duan Ling rinsed his hands with tea, letting them slip beneath her skirt.

“Your eyes say you’re telling the truth. But your actions? They say your heart belongs to someone else. It’s strange—so strange I’m starting to wonder if eyes can lie after all.”  

“I don’t have anyone else!”  

She moved to leap off the table, her legs dangling, swaying slightly.  

Duan Ling pressed her back down, his hand following.

Her breath hitched, and she tilted her head to bite his lip.

“I really don’t.”  

He kissed her cheek in response.  

She pushed him away, and for a moment, a tangle of emotions flickered in his eyes—rare for him.  

But then she leaned in, kissing him, their foreheads touching as their breaths mingled.

His fingers, faintly scented with tea, brushed her skin, as if the fragrance had seeped into her.

“Will you trust me?” she whispered.  

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he gripped her hand, kissing her with a desperate edge, like a man wronged, yearning yet uncertain.  

Lin Ting bit his lip harder, breaking the skin.

He didn’t flinch, as if hoping she’d bite again, to anchor her presence.

But she stopped after one.  

Night had just fallen, the room unlit by candles, shrouded in dimness.

Yet they could see each other clearly.  

Duan Ling’s gaze held hers, unyielding.

She stared back, refusing to back down.

When he reached to cover her eyes, perhaps fearing they’d deceive him again, she slapped his hand away.  

The strike wasn’t gentle, leaving his hand red—though his skin marked easily.

“Why cover them? I’m not afraid of you seeing my eyes. What are you afraid of?”