Buxiu had never seen Ming Guniang like this before—her gentle, moon-like face suddenly sharpened with a chilling intensity, her phoenix eyes wide open, exuding a murderous aura that froze his bones.
For a fleeting moment, Buxiu even thought Ming Guniang might strike him.
The guards outside the courtyard sensed the danger and rushed into the garden. Buxiu snapped back to reality and quickly raised a hand to stop them, his eyes half-lowered. "It was the master's order. Twenty-Seven has always been of dubious origin, and yesterday he trespassed into Cyan Tile Courtyard. According to the mansion's rules, he was to be caned."
"He was quite the tough one—didn't make a sound even after three bones were broken. Until his death, he never said why he went into that courtyard."
Suffocation crashed over Mingyi like a tidal wave. She swayed on her feet.
Suddenly, she remembered Ji Bozhai's words that day: "Situ Ling sent you to Cyan Tile Courtyard because he wanted you dead."
At the time, it had seemed like a joke. Now, the memory made her teeth chatter.
"Take me to see him."
Buxiu gave her a deep look. "Ming Guniang, if you leave this mansion, I will have to inform the master."
So be it. With a cold expression, she strode out.
The antidote, the chance to return to Sunspire City—all of it was stained with Twenty-Seven's blood.
She wanted none of it.
All she wanted was to take Twenty-Seven home.
"Ming Guniang," Buxiu called out, unable to bear it.
Mingyi didn't stop. Her exquisite magpie-embroidered satin shoes, adorned with pearls, sank into the muddy flowerbed, the heel loosening. Without a glance, she tugged off the silk stocking and stepped straight through the moon gate of the rear courtyard.
The delicate embroidered shoes were left behind, soiled and lonely in the mud.
Buxiu sighed regretfully at the sight, then stepped aside to make way for Ji Bozhai behind him.
Ji Bozhai stood under the eaves, watching her retreating figure.
He wanted to feign indifference—after all, there were many people around, and losing his temper would only show how much he cared. When it came to interests, he had never been one for sentimental attachments.
But he was furious.
He had told her not to lie to him, not to deceive him—how dare she put on such an act in front of him for so long? When the mansion had caught fire earlier, he found it odd—how conveniently she had found a guard who wielded Essence Power, one who just happened to have been hired when she had coaxed him into strengthening the mansion's defenses.
He should have suspected her sooner. He really should have.
But now that he had caught her in the lie, he wished there weren't so many people around.
Without the crowd, he could have dragged her back to his room and demanded answers. Maybe there would still be room for negotiation—unlike now, where, under Buxiu's gaze, he couldn't bring himself to utter a single word of leniency.
"Lock her in the woodshed until the welcoming banquet."
"My lord, the woodshed—"
"Lock her in. No food or water."
"Yes."
Mingyi strode forward, nearly reaching the western side gate when several elite guards suddenly seized her limbs and hauled her into a dim, dust-filled room.
She was about to lash out in anger when she looked up and saw Twenty-Seven tied up across from her.
He didn't look at her. There were no visible injuries, but he was tightly bound with ropes designed to restrain Fighters, unable to move an inch.
The knot in her chest suddenly loosened. Her throat tightened, and her eyes reddened.
"Can't bear to part with him?" a voice sneered coldly.She turned her head and only then noticed Ji Bozhai sitting in the shadows nearby, his dark brocade robe blending into the darkness, his expression barely discernible.
Reason returned to her, and she finally realized she had walked into a trap.
Quickly composing herself, Mingyi lowered her head. "My lord, this servant does not understand what you mean."
Ji Bozhai shattered the armrest of his chair with a single strike, sending splinters flying all over her.
Twenty-Seven's body instinctively moved.
Protecting her seemed to be his natural reflex.
Ji Bozhai watched with a cold laugh, his eyes darkening dangerously. "How touching, the depth of your affection."
Seeing that feigning ignorance wouldn't work, Mingyi knelt with a sigh. "My lord misunderstands. He is like a younger brother to me."
"Oh?" He glared at her coldly. "A blood brother?"
"Not by blood, but closer than blood." She spoke earnestly. "Twenty-Seven once saved my life. After my father passed, we came to the capital together. But he carries blood debts and didn't want to implicate me, so he left to make his own way. It was only after coming to your estate that I felt it safe enough for him to escape his pursuers, so I found a way to bring him here."
"His circumstances are special. I feared you might reject him, so I kept it secret. But since coming here, Twenty-Seven has never harmed you. Didn't he even help resolve the estate's crisis last time? Hearing today that you had beaten him to death, of course I would lose composure, but this has nothing to do with romantic feelings."
She met his gaze directly, completely transparent.
Unfortunately, the Ji Bozhai before her remained icily indifferent, unmoved by her pitiful expression.
"Never harmed me," he repeated her words tonelessly, then turned to Twenty-Seven. "Then why did he go to Cyan Tile Courtyard?"
Mingyi licked her lips, at a loss for an answer.
She couldn't mention the antidote—that would reveal she possessed Essence Power and undermine her carefully constructed identity as a peasant girl in Sunspire City. But without that explanation, no other reason would be convincing.
Seeing her hesitation, Ji Bozhai sneered. "Truly closer than siblings—even your silence is identical."
He stood, losing patience. "Stay here until you're ready to talk."
"My lord!" Mingyi quickly called out to him.
Thinking she might finally tell the truth, he turned—only to hear her say, "It's so dark and damp here. Could this servant have a sunlit room instead?"
Ji Bozhai: "..."
The door slammed shut violently, stirring up musty dust that sent Mingyi into a coughing fit.
As silence gradually settled around them, she stopped coughing and turned to Twenty-Seven. "How were you discovered?"
Twenty-Seven kept his head turned away, muttering, "Moss on my shoe tips."
Ordinary moss, yet he traced it back to Cyan Tile Courtyard. Ji Bozhai's attention to detail was truly meticulous.
Mingyi sighed, about to comfort him, when Twenty-Seven added, "Had my lady been more composed today, we wouldn't be imprisoned together."
Oh, so now it was her fault?
Mingyi snorted. "You're my only family. How could I not care?"
Her voice grew increasingly hoarse toward the end, the last syllable nearly breaking into a sob.
Twenty-Seven didn't dare respond. He stole a quick glance at Mingyi, pressed his lips together, wanting to offer comfort but finding no words, and so remained silent.Her own flesh and blood had betrayed her, leaving him as the only one still by her side. But he never expected that she would actually consider him family.
He was merely a slave she had saved.
Ji Bozhai stood in the courtyard outside the firewood shed, listening indifferently to the conversation inside. Finding it pointless, he flicked his sleeves and walked away.
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