“By the time I get to the capital, I’ll just wipe off this face and change my clothes—who would ever guess that this wretched, rat-like appearance is actually me, Ji Linxi?”

Ji Linxi, who had been sprawled on the floor, felt like dying. He didn’t mind making a fool of himself, but he minded doing it in front of the “Beauty.” He looked back at the high doorsill and desperately wanted to tear that hazard out, throw it away, pour hot oil on it, and burn it to ash.

Ji Linxi’s sudden return was clearly unexpected for everyone. Chu Yu frowned slightly, but smoothed his expression in an instant, his voice filled with concern: “Young Master Xi?”

“Why have you returned?”

Ji Linxi scrambled up from the ground, dusted off his clothes, and looked around. Old Master Wang was already detained, and the others were kneeling in rows. It seemed the situation had already been settled.

So fast?

He was astonished. No matter how clever he was, he couldn’t guess what had transpired in such a short time. He had thought that by rushing back, he might get a chance to play the hero, but everything was already a done deal—there was simply no role for him.

He licked his dry lips, a bit awkward: “After I left, I was worried about you, Young Master, so I thought I’d come back to see if I could help with anything.”

He still didn’t realize that the person before him was the gold-dignified Crown Prince from the deep palaces of the capital.

Chu Yu smiled gently. He was breathtakingly beautiful, and with white snow drifting down and the lanterns swaying under the eaves, in the deep night, he looked like the bewitching spirits found in strange tales. If he isn’t a spirit, Ji Linxi thought, how could he hook my heart right out of my body, leaving me to pine day and night?

He felt himself floating to the heavens again. Even the part of him below the waist was standing at full attention.

“It’s cold, Young Master Xi. I’ll have someone send you back to rest.” Unaware of what was happening in Ji Linxi’s mind, Chu Yu turned his head and whispered a few words to a man. The man gave Ji Linxi a surprised look, nodded, and walked over, ignoring Ji Linxi’s disheveled state: “Young Master Xi, please.”

Ji Linxi didn’t want to leave—he hadn’t rushed back just to go to sleep. But it was clear the “Beauty” didn’t want him involved in what came next, and Ji Linxi wasn’t someone who couldn’t read the room. With a farewell full of reluctance, clutching the box of ointment tightly, he left, looking back with every step.

Watching his figure vanish at the entrance, the smile on Chu Yu’s lips vanished like mist in the wind. He lowered his eyelashes, his voice returning to cold indifference: “Go bring Wang He to me.”

Upon hearing her son’s name, Madam Wang’s eyes widened, and tears streamed down. She crawled from the floor to Chu Yu’s feet, bowing her head deeply: “Your Highness, Crown Prince, my son is already so ill he cannot rise from his bed. Please, spare his life!”

“He already knows he was wrong!”

Chu Yu didn’t even lift his eyes. “If I spare him, who will spare those he harmed?”

Madam Wang tried to plead further, but another person stepped forward, detained her, and pressed her down beside Old Master Wang.

A tea-time later, Wang He—who knew nothing and was still fantasizing about how to have fun once he felt better—was dragged over by palace guards disguised in plain clothes and thrown onto the ground. Wang He had been screaming the whole way; his voice was already hoarse.

“Who gave you dogs the guts! You dare lay a finger on your grandfather here! Don’t you want to live?!”

“I’m going to tell the Prime Minister and have him kill the lot of you!”

Yan Huai kicked him, pinning him to the floor: “Shut up.”

Wang He, full of malice, struggled to lift his head, only to see his parents detained and the servants and guards still kneeling in terror. He was incredulous: “Father? Mother?”

“Jinzhi—” Madam Wang looked at him through tears.

Wang He struggled fiercely, but his blood-depleted body had no strength. He only felt the foot pressing on his back like a giant mountain, making it impossible to breathe.

“Let us go!”

“What are you here for?! If it’s money, my Wang family has plenty! I’ll give it to you! Let us go!”

Yan Huai applied pressure to his foot, pinning Wang He’s head firmly to the floor.

“Money?”

A cold laugh echoed: “I’m afraid all the money in your Wang family couldn’t buy your single life.”

“Your family has harmed so many lives. Now that His Highness the Crown Prince is here, the time has come for you to repay your debts.”

…

That night, the people kneeling in the front hall were filled with trepidation.

The Magistrate’s legs had gone numb from kneeling. The joy from the earlier banquet had been wiped clean. He looked pale, watching as corpse after corpse, stained with blood, was carried into the hall to verify the Wang family’s crimes.

He stole a glance at Prefect Song and saw the Prefect’s head buried in the accumulated snow, motionless like a dead man. A sense of unease about the future surged in his heart.

The calm, understated interrogation lasted until the small hours of the morning.

“Where are Prefect Song and Magistrate He?”

Hearing his name, Prefect Song closed his eyes. His body, which had remained motionless for so long, finally moved, and he bowed deeply to the floor.

“Your subject—Song Wenzhi, pays respects to His Highness the Crown Prince.”

Magistrate He hurriedly followed suit: “Your subject—He An, pays respects to His Highness the Crown Prince.”

Chu Yu looked at the two of them: “You two—one the Magistrate of Yong City, the other the Prefect of Jing Prefecture—should have known a thing or two about the evil deeds committed by the Wang family, yet you indulged them. Is this true?”

Magistrate He naturally wanted to argue, but before he could speak, he saw Prefect Song bow deeply again: “This subject… is guilty.”

By now, who could fail to understand?

The Crown Prince, who had come from the deep palaces of the capital, had come specifically for the Wang family. Since he was involved, he could not escape the blame.

…

Ji Linxi didn’t sleep all night. He lay on the bed, ears pricked to listen to the movement outside. Several times, he wanted to go out, but the guards stopped him.

“The Master’s orders: Young Master Xi is to rest well.”

Faced with this response, Ji Linxi had no choice but to retreat. He lay on the bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He took the box from under his pillow.

Sigh, I’m so hungry.

His roast chicken and roast suckling pig were probably buried in the snow by now, along with that pile of valuable jewelry. Even if he wanted to go back for them, he couldn’t get out.

Feeling sullen for a long time, in order to comfort himself, Ji Linxi opened the box, carefully touched a bit of the white frost, and smeared it on his hands. Only by sniffing the bone-chilling fragrance did he feel a sense of stability in his heart.

At the first light of dawn, he climbed out of bed to tidy himself up. He had washed his hair the night before, but he only had this one set of clothes. Since they wouldn’t dry quickly like his hair, he could only wipe them with a handkerchief, leaving large oily stains.

He stared at them for a long time and silently cursed his impulsiveness from yesterday. At first, he only thought about escaping, never minding his image. By the time he decided to go back, it was too late to fix.

He felt dejected for a moment, but then realized: his current appearance was just a disguise anyway. By the time he reached the capital, a wipe of his face and a change of clothes—who would ever guess that this wretched, rat-like creature was the great Ji Linxi?

His heart finally settled. He picked up a comb, styled his hair in the mirror to look a bit dashing and spirited, and was satisfied. He stopped, ready to go see his “Beauty.”