After being reborn, the aloof prime minister was once again forced by a tyrant.

Xiao Jingyuan's blood ran colder and colder. He turned around and said in a very low voice, "Investigate. Investigate everything and everyone he has come into contact with since entering the palace, one by one." The shadow guard obeyed and left.

The imperial physicians worked for another half hour, administering several bowls of detoxifying soup before Xie Qinglan's pulse gradually stabilized. Xiao Jingyuan remained standing at the foot of the bed the entire time, never leaving her side.

An hour later, the shadow guard returned. He searched every item in Tingxue Pavilion but found no source of poison.

Xie Qinglan had very little contact with palace servants after entering the palace, and after checking them one by one, there was nothing suspicious. The only place he went in the past few days was the Imperial Garden, and the only outsider he came into contact with was—no one at all.

Everything he ate, used, and even the incense he used was personally inspected by Xiao Jingyuan. There was no source of poison, no suspects, no motive. Nothing at all.

Xiao Jingyuan stood by the bed, looking at Xie Qinglan who was unconscious on the bed. A thought emerged from the darkest corner of his heart—did he poison himself?

It was the same in his previous life. In his previous life, he imprisoned someone in the Lan Yue Pavilion. That person treated him coldly and indifferently, and he thought it was nothing. Then one day, he went out of the palace to buy osmanthus cakes, and when he returned, that person was dead. On the table was a suicide note, which read, "Unable to bear the humiliation, death is the only option."

In this life, he didn't force himself on him, didn't push him onto the dragon bed, and didn't even dare to see him often. Yet, he still kept him in the palace. He used the excuse of the National Day celebrations to settle him in the remote Tingxue Pavilion, preventing him from leaving. How was this any different from the previous life?

In the previous life, it was the Moon-Gazing Pavilion; in this life, it's the Snow-Listening Pavilion. In the previous life, it was forced possession; in this life, it's forced retention. Change the name, change the method—is there any fundamental difference? Is that person also the same as in the previous life—preferring death to staying by his side?

The thought was like a rusty knife, sawing at his bones again and again.

"Take everything off him," Xiao Jingyuan said, his voice low and hoarse, almost inaudible. "Remove all sharp objects, all medicine bottles, and anything that could harm him from Tingxue Pavilion. From this day forward, no one is allowed to enter or leave Tingxue Pavilion, and no one is allowed to visit him. If anything happens to him again—"

He didn't finish his sentence. But everyone understood the unspoken meaning.

When Xie Qinglan woke up, it was already dusk of the next day.

He opened his eyes. Above him were the plain white curtains of Tingxue Pavilion. The hall was dimly lit, with only a ray of sunset filtering in through the window.

He tried to get up, but found his body so weak it felt like his bones had been removed, and he didn't even have the strength to lift his hand.

He managed to turn his head slightly and saw the silhouettes of two guards in black armor with curved swords at their waists at the palace entrance. He leaned against the wall to get up and moved to the doorway, but the door was locked from the outside, and the windows were sealed from the outside as well.

He tried to gather his internal energy—but his dantian was completely empty, and he couldn't muster even a trace of it.

However, the "Entangled Silk" poison should have been neutralized. The "Entangled Silk" poison itself is not a particularly difficult-to-cure potent poison. Its greatest characteristic is its strong ability to remain dormant, making it difficult for the poisoned person to detect. Once activated, it can be fatal.

Since he is still alive, the poison must have been cured, and his internal strength will gradually recover over time.

only……

The palace doors were locked, the windows were sealed, and he was imprisoned again.

Xie Qinglan closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

He wasn't afraid of being imprisoned—he had been imprisoned for three years in his previous life and was already used to it.

What he feared was something else entirely. What about Xiao Jingyuan? The last thing he saw before he collapsed was the bronze bells on the eaves of the distant main hall swaying in the morning light.

He collapsed on his way to the Imperial Study, just a quarter of an hour before Xiao Jingyuan dismissed the court. That person must have known he had collapsed, must have known he had been poisoned.

He even found the imperial physician to cure him of the poison, so why doesn't he come to see him?

This question gnawed at Xie Qinglan's nerves again and again in the days that followed.

The National Day celebration, which was originally fabricated by Xiao Jingyuan, was temporarily canceled. The marriage alliance delegation had already set off to return home, but he was locked in the palace.

On the fifth day of his imprisonment, when Gao An brought him food, he asked, "Has His Majesty come by?" Gao An lowered his head and remained silent, simply opening the food box to reveal four dishes and a soup, all prepared in the style of Nanyue. Xie Qinglan did not ask again. On the seventh day, he asked again. Gao An remained silent.

On the tenth day, he stopped asking.

Xiao Jingyuan has never come, not even once.

But the things in Tingxuexuan kept increasing day by day. On the table was a snow-capped jade pendant from Nanyue, and a thick layer of snow-white fox fur was laid on the floor. He even casually remarked that "Beishuo's writing materials are not good," and the next day a complete set of sandalwood brush rests and pine soot ink appeared on the table.

That person didn't come, but instead sent the best things in the world to Tingxuexuan, as if to fill the emptiness of his absence with these silent objects.

Meanwhile, the palace servants sweeping outside were becoming increasingly gossipy.

"His Majesty went to Chang Le Palace again today. Consort Ning made osmanthus cakes by hand, and His Majesty ate several pieces."

"Indeed, I heard that Consort Ning has been unwell these past few days, and His Majesty was extremely worried, even summoning the imperial physician to see her overnight."

"His Majesty is so kind to Consort Ning. By the way, what exactly did that person from Tingxue Pavilion do to offend His Majesty? I heard he is the Prime Minister of Nanyue, so why is he locked up in this cold palace by His Majesty?"

Xie Qinglan sat by the window, her fingertips resting on the jade pendant engraved with the character "Lan" at her waist.

At first, he didn't believe it.

In his past life, that person had surrounded his Lan Yue Pavilion like an iron barrel, with three hundred shadow guards keeping watch day and night, and he himself wished he could be glued to that person. Would that person spend the night in Chang Le Palace? Would he favor Consort Ning?

impossible.

But he didn't believe it for a day, two days, ten days, or even half a month—those words were like iron horses on the eaves being blown by the wind, knocking on his bones day and night, causing cracks to appear in his "disbelief."

He began to think: This life is different from the last. In the last life, that person pinned him down on the dragon bed on their very first meeting, but in this life, he wouldn't even glance at him. In the last life, that person made him a concubine, but in this life, he was relegated to a desolate courtyard, like a cold palace. In the last life, that person would sneak in through the window every night to cling to him, but in this life, he wouldn't even come to see him when he was poisoned.

Does he no longer want to love me? Does he think that everything in the past life was just wishful thinking on his part, and that he would never get a response, so in this life he chose to let go, chose to pamper someone else, and chose to ignore me?

Once this idea took root, it grew like a poisonous weed, suffocating him.

On the twentieth day, Xie Qinglan stood by the window, parted the paper window and looked at the branches and leaves of the old plum tree in the courtyard swaying in the night wind.

He wondered—if Xiao Jingyuan truly no longer loved him, what was the point of his rebirth in this life? To seek revenge? To witness the person who cherished him so dearly in his past life now cherishing someone else in this one?

He closed his eyes. He couldn't think anymore. He needed answers.

A definite, unquestionable answer.

He turned and walked to the table, picking up the celadon teacup. The teacup felt slightly cool against his fingertips. He stared at it for a moment, then gripped the rim tightly.

The sound of the porcelain shards breaking was very soft. He picked out the sharpest fragment. The broken edge of the shard gleamed coldly in the candlelight, as thin as a piece of ice.

He held the porcelain shard in his palm, walked to the bedside, sat down, took a deep breath, and then forcefully slashed it down onto his left wrist.

The moment the blood gushed out, he wasn't thinking about the pain, but rather—this time, you should finally come, right?