Shen Miao lit a lantern in the night, intending to tidy up the books Shen Qiu had sent over during the day. Shen Qiu always thought she enjoyed reading, and these days, considering her impending marriage, he had gone out of his way to find several rare books for her. Some of these rare books recorded significant events from previous dynasties, while others were romantic tales. Shen Miao planned to pick out the romantic stories to give to Luo Tan and Feng Anning, while the historical books could be kept—perhaps they would be useful in the future.
As she was organizing them, she suddenly heard a noise outside her window. She wasn’t accustomed to having servants attend to her at night, and Jing Zhe and Gu Yu usually retired early, so they wouldn’t be around at this hour. She glanced toward the window but saw no one. After a moment’s thought, she opened the door and stepped into the courtyard to investigate.
She wasn’t afraid of intruders—after all, Cong Yang was also in the courtyard. If there really were a threat, Cong Yang would have already acted. But as soon as she stepped outside, she saw a figure standing beneath the tree. She froze for a moment before lifting her lantern and taking a few steps forward, only to realize it was Xie Jingxing.
Xie Jingxing wasn’t wearing his usual purple robe but had instead changed into black attire. When dressed in purple, he resembled a noble young master of the world, but in black, he exuded an air of cold, ruthless lethality. Yet the lazy smile on his face remained unchanged as he watched Shen Miao approach.
Shen Miao sensed something was off about Xie Jingxing but couldn’t pinpoint what it was. She stopped beside him and asked, “Why are you standing here?”
In the past, Xie Jingxing would have barged into her room uninvited to drink tea.
Xie Jingxing curled his lips into a smirk, but before Shen Miao could say anything else, he suddenly collapsed toward her.
Instinctively, she caught him, only to feel something wet and sticky on his back. Under the dim glow of the lantern, she saw shocking streaks of blood. The winter cold had dulled her senses, but as Xie Jingxing fell against her, the heavy scent of blood finally reached her.
“Cong Yang,” she called softly.
No one answered. Cong Yang seemed to be absent.
Shen Miao grew anxious. At such a critical moment, Cong Yang had vanished. She didn’t dare alert anyone else—Xie Jingxing had returned covered in wounds from who knew where. Half-dragging, half-carrying him, she managed to bring him into her room and laid him on her bed. She was about to fetch a physician when Xie Jingxing seemed to regain consciousness for a brief moment.
“Don’t call anyone,” he said.
Shen Miao paused, then crouched beside him. “What about your injuries?”
With great effort, Xie Jingxing pulled a small medicine bottle from his robes, but before Shen Miao could question him further, he lost consciousness again.
In that fleeting moment, Shen Miao made a decision. There was still some warm water in the room, meant for washing her hands at night. She brought it over, soaked a clean handkerchief, hesitated briefly, then slowly began to unfasten Xie Jingxing’s robes.
Under the lamplight, the young man’s body was lean and well-proportioned, exuding latent strength. Shen Miao felt an inexplicable warmth rise to her cheeks but forced herself to work quickly.
Xie Jingxing’s clothes were soaked in blood, the dried stains clinging stubbornly to his skin. The cold wind outside had nearly fused the fabric to his body. Every tug made Xie Jingxing furrow his brows slightly, as though even in unconsciousness, he felt the discomfort.Helpless, she could only find a pair of silver scissors, sterilized them over a flame, and carefully cut open his clothes.
Shen Miao was no stranger to the sight of a man’s body—she had seen Fu Ming’s many times before. But facing Xie Jingxing was different, especially since, to protect him, she hadn’t even called for Jing Zhe or Gu Yu. Alone, she peeled off Xie Jingxing’s clothes, inevitably feeling somewhat awkward.
However, the awkwardness on her face soon faded, replaced by a grave expression.
Xie Jingxing’s body bore many knife wounds. None were particularly deep, but they crisscrossed in all directions. Though none were fatal, Shen Miao knew that such a multitude of wounds could drain a person dry from blood loss alone. Not daring to delay, she immediately used a handkerchief dipped in hot water to wipe away the blood around the wounds, then sprinkled medicinal powder from the bottle over them. Unable to find clean bandages after searching for a long time, Shen Miao had no choice but to take out a newly made strip of cloth meant for binding her chest and used it to dress Xie Jingxing’s wounds. She had never bandaged anyone before, but having once seen Shen Qiu’s soldiers do it, she mimicked their method. Though the result was somewhat crude, at least the bleeding had stopped.
She then retrieved a few blood-replenishing pills from the cabinet—pills Luo Tan had bought for her, claiming they could improve a woman’s complexion during her monthly cycle. Though Xie Jingxing wasn’t menstruating, he had lost a lot of blood, so the pills should still help replenish it. Shen Miao crushed the pills, dissolved them in hot water, and fed the mixture to Xie Jingxing.
By the time she finished, the night was as deep as impenetrable fog, and even the murmurs of livestock outside had ceased. Xie Jingxing lay half-naked on her bed, his torso wrapped in layers of her chest-binding cloth, looking utterly bizarre no matter how one looked at it.
Shen Miao twitched her lips and decided to turn Xie Jingxing over to check for any other wounds.
Xie Jingxing’s clothes were soaked in large patches, but his trousers were dry, so Shen Miao assumed he was only injured around his waist, abdomen, and back. As she turned him, her hand accidentally brushed against his thigh. Shen Miao recoiled as if burned, but then she sensed something unusual.
The skin beneath her fingers was hard, unlike the smooth texture of uninjured skin—more like a thick layer of scar tissue. Her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively lifted the hem of Xie Jingxing’s trousers slightly. There, deep along his lower abdomen, stretched a horrifying scar.
Unlike the fresh, crisscrossing scars from today—numerous but shallow and non-fatal—this one was jagged, its color dark, clearly an old wound. Yet even after so long, the scar remained deeply pronounced, a testament to how bone-deep and gruesome the injury must have been.
Xie Jingxing hadn’t been known to suffer any injuries during his time in Ming Qi. Could this have happened in Great Coolness? Shen Miao wondered suspiciously. But then she discovered more scars—large and small, each one deep enough to reach the bone. Though healed, they left her astonished. How had Xie Jingxing survived so many brushes with death?She hadn't realized her hands had wandered to Xie Jingxing's legs and were about to move further down when the man on the bed let out a muffled groan and suddenly grabbed her wrist. Shen Miao's face instantly flushed crimson, thinking Xie Jingxing had woken up and misunderstood her intentions. She instinctively looked at him, only to find his brows tightly furrowed, lips pressed together, eyes still closed—apparently still unconscious.
Relieved, though still curious about the scars, Shen Miao didn't dare continue her exploration. Since she had torn Xie Jingxing's upper garments to shreds, she had no choice but to dress him in one of her own oversized outer robes, wrapping him up snugly. Worried his wounds might cause a fever during the night, she pulled up a stool and kept vigil by the bed.
She didn't even know when she fell asleep.
At dawn, when the rooster crowed, Shen Miao awoke to find herself lying on the bed, covered with thick quilts. She distinctly remembered keeping watch over Xie Jingxing from the stool last night, never expecting she'd dozed off midway. Exhaustion must have claimed her so completely that she hadn't even noticed being moved.
She bolted upright instinctively, only to find the room empty—Xie Jingxing was nowhere in sight. Just as she froze in confusion, an amused voice sounded behind her: "Looking for me?"
Xie Jingxing walked over wearing a loose undergarment. She had no idea where he'd found it. Freshly washed, water droplets still trailed down his chin, disappearing into the collar. Shen Miao stared at him in astonishment. The man who had been severely injured and unconscious just yesterday now looked utterly refreshed, showing no trace of yesterday's life-threatening condition.
"Are you... better now?" she asked.
Xie Jingxing smiled. "Of course."
Shen Miao nodded. "Indeed, the Qi-boosting pills worked. My cousin didn't lie to me."
"Qi-boosting pills?" Xie Jingxing frowned. "What are those?"
"For women to replenish their qi and blood," Shen Miao answered without batting an eye. "Take one during menstruation to prevent weakness. Last night I saw you'd lost so much blood—your qi and blood must have been depleted—so I gave you three." She smiled sweetly at him. "Your rapid recovery must be entirely thanks to them."
Xie Jingxing's smile froze.
Seeing his discomfort, Shen Miao nearly laughed inwardly—until her amusement died in the next moment when Xie Jingxing casually remarked, "Ah, in that case, consider it repayment for last night's... explorations."
As Shen Miao stiffened, Xie Jingxing's smile turned suggestive. "Last night, someone was getting rather handsy—"
Her face cycled through pale then green before she snapped, "You were awake?!"
"Couldn't speak, but my mind was clear." Xie Jingxing settled at the table with the ease of being in his own residence. After pouring himself tea from the freshly warmed pot, he grinned at her.
Hesitating, Shen Miao remained standing. "What happened to your injuries? What exactly occurred yesterday?"
"Handling your affairs," Xie Jingxing said breezily. "Prince Ding's Residence—let's not go there again." He stretched lazily. "Fu Xiuyi really has too many tricks up his sleeve. Even I couldn't handle them all."
"You went to Prince Ding's Residence?" Shen Miao's eyes widened. "You went to their dungeon?"Xie Jingxing's eyes flickered slightly. "You know quite a bit about Prince Ding's Residence, even aware there's a dungeon," he remarked. "Indeed, I took a stroll there last night and incidentally rescued your Mr. Pei."
Shen Miao stared at him blankly.
She hadn't expected Xie Jingxing to personally undertake the rescue. Given his sensitive identity and Fu Xiuyi's sharp vigilance, any slip could bring Xie Jingxing considerable trouble. When Shen Miao sought his help, she assumed he would deploy his capable subordinates, never imagining he would risk himself.
An indescribable feeling stirred within her. Yet, considering it was Prince Ding's Residence, Xie Jingxing's injuries now made sense.
Fu Xiuyi was an extremely cautious and suspicious man. With countless enemies, his residence was typically an impenetrable fortress. The dungeon housed prisoners Fu Xiuyi deemed crucial—mostly spies or informants from rival factions. As the repository of many secrets, the dungeon was heavily fortified, with more resources devoted to its defense than the entire residence.
Under such circumstances, Xie Jingxing infiltrating the dungeon alone and rescuing someone was a feat in itself—surviving was already remarkable.
Noticing Shen Miao's daze, Xie Jingxing tilted his head and eyed her quizzically. "Aren't you going to ask about your Mr. Pei's condition?"
Shen Miao snapped back to attention. "Is he alive?"
"Alive and well," Xie Jingxing replied with a raised brow. "Not a single spark touched him."
Shen Miao caught the keyword. "Spark?"
"I set Prince Ding's dungeon on fire," Xie Jingxing said casually. "Root and branch."
Shen Miao inhaled sharply. Burning the dungeon meant Fu Xiuyi would spare no effort to hunt down the arsonist. The prisoners held secrets Fu Xiuyi desperately sought—secrets now lost forever in the flames. With such a colossal loss, Fu Xiuyi would never let Xie Jingxing off easily.
At this moment, Shen Miao couldn't help but admire Xie Jingxing. She thought herself bold, but her courage stemmed from foreknowledge of past lives. Xie Jingxing, however, acted purely on impulse, unafraid to tear the heavens apart—and then complain they weren't sturdy enough.
After a pause, Shen Miao asked, "Is he at Prince Rui's Residence now?"
"Gao Yang is treating him," Xie Jingxing answered.
Shen Miao found this odd. If Gao Yang was attending to Pei Lang, why hadn't Xie Jingxing sought treatment for himself? Instead, he came to her courtyard injured—did he think her medical skills surpassed Gao Yang's?
But more pressing questions weighed on her. She studied Xie Jingxing for a moment before he smirked. "Why stare? I’m not that selfless. If not for you—"
"How did you get these injuries?" Shen Miao cut him off.
"Prince Ding's Residence has many guards, and the dungeon houses Fu Xiuyi's deadliest fighters," Xie Jingxing explained, unusually patient. "Too many people would draw attention, so I went alone."
"Not those," Shen Miao hesitated before asking, "Your old wounds—the deep ones. Were they from Great Coolness?"
Xie Jingxing froze, silent."Ming Qi never heard of you being in critical condition," Shen Miao said. "But the wounds seem old. How did you get them?"
"Concerned about me?" Xie Jingxing glanced at her with a faint smile. "It's nothing worth mentioning."
"I want to know," Shen Miao lowered her gaze. "Even if it's just to prepare for going to Great Coolness. You can't expect me to face a completely unfamiliar person and place without any preparation."
The reason sounded lofty, but Shen Miao knew the truth—her desire to understand the origin of those wounds had nothing to do with it.
Apart from the grudges from their past lives, Xie Jingxing already knew her deeply. Yet, from Shen Miao's perspective, there were still many things about Xie Jingxing she didn't understand. Before, she had been afraid to learn more—knowing too many secrets about someone as dangerous as Xie Jingxing only increased the peril. But now, she actively wanted to know more about him.
Xie Jingxing looked at the tea before him and smiled. "I was injured in the Northern Frontier."
Shen Miao abruptly raised her head.
Xie Jingxing spoke calmly, "There were spies from the imperial family in the Xie Family Army. When I went to the Northern Frontier, plans changed, and I had to return to Great Coolness ahead of schedule to reclaim my identity. But it's true that there were ambushes within the Xie Family Army."
"The Northern Frontier people and the imperial spies worked together to set a trap. Originally, it was meant for Xie Ding, but because of my request for the Marshal warrant, the target shifted to me. That day, I was prepared, but I didn’t expect Lin'an Hou's trusted aide to be the emperor's man. He ambushed me. Though the Ink Feather Army from Great Coolness secretly aided me, I was still severely injured. My elder brother took advantage of the situation, switching the truth with deception. The emperor thought his scheme had succeeded, but in reality, I was taken back to Great Coolness to recover. It took me half a year before I could even get out of bed." He looked at Shen Miao and smiled indifferently. "To be precise, the injury happened in Ming Qi."
A storm surged in Shen Miao's heart, but in an instant, realization dawned upon her.
So that was how Xie Jingxing had been injured!
Many things had changed between their past and present lives, and the fate of the Xie father and son was one of them. In their past life, Lin'an Hou Xie Ding had gone to battle first, met defeat, and died. Afterward, Marquis Lin'an Manor declined, and Xie Jingxing took up the royal command to fight again, only to meet his end pierced by countless arrows. Regardless of whether Xie Jingxing had faked his death in their past life, one thing was certain—the simultaneous deaths of the Xie father and son on the battlefield had been a premeditated outcome orchestrated by the Fu Family for Marquis Lin'an Manor.
In this life, due to certain changes, Xie Jingxing had altered his plans for unknown reasons and set out to battle earlier. The emperor, who had originally intended to deal with Lin'an Hou, seized the opportunity to target Xie Jingxing instead. With Xie Jingxing's death, Lin'an Hou fell into despair, sparing the imperial family the need to act again.
This perfectly aligned with Xie Jingxing's words to Su Mingfeng: "Ming Qi has never nurtured me—only sought to erase me."
Indeed, Ming Qi had only sought to erase Xie Jingxing. Marquis Lin'an Manor had once rendered great service to Ming Qi's empire, but once the birds were gone, the bow was stored away. When a subject's achievements grew too great, the imperial family was quick to suppress them. Though Shen Miao had long suspected that the downfall of Marquis Lin'an Manor in their past life was tied to the imperial family, hearing Xie Jingxing say it aloud was entirely different.If even Xie Ding's trusted aides were spies sent by the royal family, then every move within Marquis Lin'an Manor was practically under Emperor Wenhui's watchful eyes. This was why Xie Jingxing had never been close to Xie Ding since childhood. Perhaps back then, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly who the spies were, he knew the royal family's presence had never left Marquis Lin'an Manor.
It was even possible that Fang Shi, Xie Changchao, and Xie Changwu had been secretly controlled by Emperor Wenhui's people. But now, with Xie Changchao and Xie Changwu dead, Fang Shi nearly broken, and Marquis Lin'an Manor left without successors, Emperor Wenhui likely wouldn't harbor any further schemes against the household.
Shen Miao looked at Xie Jingxing again, feeling a sense of relief akin to having narrowly escaped death.
Xie Jingxing's life in Ming Qi was indeed not as privileged as Su Mingfeng had imagined. Perhaps when Great Coolness sent Xie Jingxing over, they had counted on Marquis Lin'an's status, thinking that after Princess Yuqing's sudden death, the marquis would dote doubly on this son. Yet no one could have foreseen the hidden dangers lurking beneath the manor's seemingly prosperous facade. Living in Marquis Lin'an Manor might not have been any happier for Xie Jingxing than growing up in an ordinary household. On the contrary, from a young age, he had likely been forced to endure hardships that even adults would struggle to bear.
The scheming, the deceit, the false courtesies of royalty, and the hidden threats beneath apparent harmony.
Had there been no one from Great Coolness to meet him on the Northern Frontier Battlefield, or had the timing been slightly off, Xie Jingxing would now be nothing more than a handful of dust.
Noticing Shen Miao's expression—though she tried to remain composed, her breathing betrayed slight tremors—Xie Jingxing smirked, reaching across the table to ruffle her hair. "What are you afraid of? Once we're in Great Coolness, with me around, who would dare touch you?"
"Great Coolness has its own royalty too," Shen Miao said, sensing things wouldn't be so simple.
Xie Jingxing shrugged. "So am I." He withdrew his hand, speaking nonchalantly. "Apart from my elder brother, you don’t need to fear anyone. Even if you somehow anger him, just tell me—I’ll make sure nothing happens to you."
"Great Coolness is my territory. Anyone who dares bully you is defying the heavens themselves," Xie Jingxing declared. "As for those wretched affairs in Ming Qi, don’t bring them up again—it’s embarrassing."
Though he said it teasingly, Shen Miao felt a pang of sorrow.
It wasn’t just embarrassment. Those days simply hadn’t been happy, so why dwell on them? A noble who should have lived in carefree luxury had instead endured hardships, surviving like an ant beneath the crushing weight of another nation’s power.
After exchanging a few more words, dawn broke, and just as Jing Zhe and Gu Yu were about to come wake Shen Miao, Xie Jingxing left.
Once he was gone, Cong Yang reappeared out of nowhere. Shen Miao glared at him. "Where were you last night?"
At such a critical moment when Xie Jingxing was injured, Cong Yang had mysteriously vanished. Now that he showed up, the man was already gone.
Cong Yang’s voice was thick with remorse. "Young Madam, it was truly unfortunate. I was assigned a task last night and thought I’d return quickly, but unexpected delays kept me until this morning." His expression was both regretful and earnest. "Did you need something?"
"Nothing important," Shen Miao waved him off before closing the window and walking away.Cong Yang leaped back onto the tree, feeling deeply wronged. Last night, his master had ordered him to remain silent, forcing him to crouch on the tree all night without even a blanket. He had no idea what his master and the young mistress were doing inside the room. He also thought about how his master, despite his minor injury, had insisted on rushing all the way back to the Shen residence. Even when Gao Yang tried to stop the bleeding, his master refused, letting the blood stain his clothes—all just to make the young mistress worry.
Poor him, enduring a night of cold wind, only to be scolded by the young mistress, with no reward from his master. Why was there no one to care about him?
Meanwhile, Xie Jingxing was on his way to Prince Rui's Residence.
Cong Yang had already renovated all the residences between Prince Rui's Residence and the Shen estate. The walls between the houses were removed, forming an interconnected series of courtyards that stretched seamlessly.
The deep winter wind was biting, heavy with frost. Over his loosely draped undergarment, he casually threw on a black cloak. The stark contrast of black against white lent his complexion an almost pallid hue.
He wasn’t wearing his mask, and his usual relaxed demeanor was absent. His beautiful, often smiling peach-blossom eyes were now cold and somber, tinged with a detached chill.
In the end, he had still lied to Shen Miao.
Those crisscrossing scars—some were from the northern borders, but others were from Great Coolness.
One wound from the northern campaign had come from the blade of the Xie Family Army’s deputy general, the most trusted subordinate of Xie Ding. That strike had cut deep enough to scrape bone. During his half-year recovery in Great Coolness, many had said he wouldn’t survive. In the end, it was Gao Yang who risked everything to pull him back from the brink of death. Gao Yang had said that if the blade had been even a fraction off, or if he had arrived any later, his life would have been beyond saving.
Apart from Gao Yang, the Yongle Emperor, and his closest confidants, no one knew of his injuries. When he reappeared before the courtiers of Great Coolness, he was still the elegant, peerlessly handsome Prince Rui.
But suddenly reintroducing a prince into the imperial family was no easy feat. Even with the Yongle Emperor’s authority suppressing dissent, everything in this world was tied to interests. The emergence of Prince Rui inevitably meant losses for some. Thus, schemes, ambushes, assassinations, and traps came one after another, each more insidious than the last.
There had been moments when death loomed close, when his life hung by a thread. He had suffered many wounds in those battles. The struggles in Great Coolness were far more perilous than those in Ming Qi. In Ming Qi, his identity had remained hidden—the imperial family’s enmity was directed at the entire Lin'an Hou, not him personally. But in Great Coolness, every danger stemmed from the title of Prince Rui. Every hidden arrow, big or small, was aimed at his life.
Yet, after each harrowing crisis, the man who appeared in court the next day was still the lazily smiling Prince Rui. Over time, the court came to see him as a formidable enemy—calculating, ruthless, and terrifying. They no longer acted rashly. Outwardly, they bowed and scraped, though inwardly, they wished for nothing more than his untimely demise.
That was what Xie Jingxing had fought tooth and nail to achieve.
In two years, he had firmly established himself as Prince Rui of Great Coolness. No one dared doubt him, challenge him, or scheme against him anymore. The blood-soaked battles in snowy nights, the traps laid in court—all of it, like the black robes of last night, had been torn to shreds.
The man who stood in the sunlight now was forever noble, graceful, and untouched by dust.
Shen Miao had said, "Even if it's just to prepare for going to Great Coolness, you can’t expect me to face a completely unfamiliar person and place with no preparation at all."
On this winter morning, Xie Jingxing walked slowly, his dark boots crunching softly against the snow. Ice crystals shimmered on the branches like hanging jewels.
A faint, leisurely smile curled at the corners of his lips.
What was there to prepare for?
After all, he would clear away every last obstacle for her before then.
Author’s Note:
Xie-gege is both domineering and subtly coquettish, a master of schemes (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻
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