The mad princess forces love upon him, and the aloof imperial advisor trembles every night.

Zesheng picked up the peach blossom pastry again, muttering, "Having a blockhead brother is really tiring... but for Jinzhu and Zuixianlou, it's worth it. I hope Brother Chen doesn't mess things up, otherwise, if my sister-in-law gets angry, will she take back my Zuixianlou...?"

He shivered.

-----------

Si Chen walked through the corridor and headed towards the secret room.

When I passed by Mianmian's room, the door was ajar.

He heard Chu Qingyue's voice coming from inside—gentle, unlike her usual self; that gentleness suppressed a tremor, suppressed blood, suppressed a panic on the verge of collapse:

"Mianmian, look at me, Mianmian."

Si Chen stopped in his tracks.

Push the door open.

Then he saw the little girl who always had such bright, smiling eyes, and how she looked now—

His hair was completely white, like snow covering his head.

Spiderweb-like black veins covered his cheeks and neck, like countless venomous insects writhing and gnawing beneath his skin. Blood flowed from his seven orifices—eyes, ears, nose, and mouth—black blood gushing out and pooling on the ground into a thick, putrid puddle.

Mianmian rolled around on the ground.

Her fingernails scratched at the ground, making a "ripping-ripping" sound, her fingertips turning inside out, blood and flesh a bloody mess. Like a fish out of water, she struggled desperately, but couldn't escape the excruciating pain.

"Sister...it hurts so much...Sister, what should I do? What should I do? I...it hurts so much, I can't hold on any longer...but I can't bear to leave Brother Ming...Sister..."

The voice was broken and intermittent, each word soaked in blood, tears, and the despair of being unable to live or die.

Chu Qingyue knelt on the ground.

He wanted to hug her, but his fingers hovered in mid-air, trembling uncontrollably. No one knew better than her that at this moment, every inch of Mianmian's skin and every bone was being burned by poisonous fire and slowly scraped by a dull knife.

"Mianmian, don't be afraid," Chu Qingyue's voice trembled, but she forced herself to stay calm. "Don't do anything foolish! Sister will think of something, sister will think of something... There must be an antidote for the Red Beauty Ashes, just hang in there a little longer..."

Mianmian's hand was already bleeding profusely from being bitten.

She trembled, her eyes unfocused, and tried to put her hand in her mouth again—a near-instinctive self-destructive impulse that arises when one is in extreme pain.

A hand shoved into her mouth even faster than she could.

It was Cangming's hand.

Mianmian bit down hard, and blood gushed out instantly, dripping from between her fingers. Cangming merely frowned, without even a groan; his voice was eerily calm.

"Mianmian, bite me if it hurts. Just hold on a little longer, don't do anything stupid."

Mianmian barely managed to open her eyes.

Her vision was blurred, yet she still recognized those eyes that always gazed at her with such doting affection. Seeing Cangming, her pupils constricted—she wanted to rush into his arms, to be held by him, to be comforted by him. But then she looked at his bloodied hands, and imagined her own current, grotesque state…

He shouldn't have seen it.

"Ming-gege, go away! Get out!" Mianmian pushed him away violently, screaming with her last bit of strength, "I don't want to see you... Get out! Get out now!"

He was too anxious, and his anger overwhelmed him, causing him to vomit another mouthful of black blood.

Chu Qingyue closed her eyes briefly and said, "Cangming, you go out first."

Cangming stared at Mianmian, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms, drawing blood. He slowly retreated, each step feeling like he was walking on a red-hot knife, his back hunched, as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

Mianmian was in so much pain that her whole body was convulsing, and her voice was barely a whisper, yet she still asked:

"Sister... I've been in pain for two hours... I can't hold on any longer. How can you last for thirty days? Sister... how did you do it? Sister, please teach Mianmian... Mianmian really... can't go on..."

Si Chen stood outside the door, listening to these words.

My heart felt like it was being gripped by an icy hand, tightened and twisted so hard it felt like it was about to burst.

So that's what she suffered.

She endured this heart-wrenching, excruciating pain alone for a whole month, 360 hours, and 8,640 unforgettable moments.

But she never said it.

Never.

No wonder... no wonder she was on the verge of death twice during the thirty days her carriage left Kyoto, and he endured the tribulation of lightning to defy fate and extend her life twice through "karmic entanglement." It turns out that each time he extended her life, he was snatching back a wisp of her remnant soul from this inescapable hell.

Si Chen went inside.

Without a word, he simply raised his hand and channeled his spiritual energy—a pale golden light, like moonlight, poured down, enveloping Mianmian curled up on the ground. The bulging veins slowly subsided, and the bleeding from her seven orifices stopped. Mianmian slumped down, finally ceasing her rolling around, only panting heavily, like a fish that had been stranded for a long time and had finally found its way back to water.

"My spiritual power is limited," Si Chen's voice was low and slightly hoarse, "I can only suppress it for half an hour."

"Half an hour...that's enough." Mianmian smiled weakly, tears mixed with blood streaming down her face. "Thank you...brother-in-law."

Chu Qingyue carried her to the bed, her movements as gentle as if she were handling fragile glass.

Mianmian tugged at her sister's sleeve, her fingers icy cold: "Sister... don't go to Ming-gege. Mianmian is like this... it will scare him. If he doesn't care about Mianmian... I don't want to kill him."

Chu Qingyue stroked her white hair, her fingertips trembling slightly:

"No, Mianmian, trust your sister's judgment. Cangming has feelings for you, he's just insecure and feels that he's not good enough for you because of his filth."

She paused, her voice softening further, yet it was like a poisoned knife, each word piercing the heart:

"You wait for me quietly in the room."

Chu Qingyue's fingers trembled as she stood up.

A warm hand covered my mouth, firm, forceful, and brooking no refusal.

She looked up and saw Si Chen.

The candlelight flickered in his eyes, reflecting a deep, unfathomable pool.

"Cangming will agree," Si Chen said, squeezing her hand to support her. "Mianmian will be fine. You... take care of yourself."

He pulled her outside.

The spot where our palms touched felt as hot as a branding iron.

Outside the door, Cangming stood with his back to the door, his back straight, yet trembling slightly.

Chu Qingyue walked over and got straight to the point, each word like an icicle striking:

"Si Chen can only suppress the toxins for half an hour. During this half hour, she looks like a normal girl, except that her hair is white."

Cangming turned around.

His eyes were bloodshot and red, as if he had stayed up countless nights or had just cried.

"Mianmian is currently poisoned with the Red Beauty Ashes, but she only ingested it less than twelve hours ago." Chu Qingyue stared into his eyes, not missing the slightest emotional fluctuation. "If you share a room with her and you have her in your heart, this poison can be cured. If you do not have Mianmian in your heart, you will die from the poison, and Mianmian will continue to suffer."

She took a step forward, her aura as imposing as a drawn blade:

"Are you willing?"

Cangming opened his mouth.

His throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton, choking him so he couldn't make a sound. His body... had long been filthy. Filthy from those beggars, from that unbearable past, from this filthy world. He was unworthy of Mianmian; sharing a room with her would defile her, would taint the last vestige of cleanliness in this world.

How could he bear to see her in pain?

How could that be?