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

On the evening of the sixth day, Gao An rushed to the imperial study and knelt down with a thud: "Your Majesty, something terrible has happened! Lord Xie—he has cut his wrists again!"

Xiao Jingyuan's face turned pale instantly. He turned and rushed towards Tingxue Pavilion, staggering and almost tripping on the palace path.

He burst through the courtyard gate and rushed into the hall, where he saw Xie Qinglan sitting by the bed, her left wrist wrapped in gauze, with faint traces of blood seeping through it. The imperial physician was changing her dressing, and a basin of water beside the bed was stained pale red with blood.

"Xie Qinglan!" Xiao Jingyuan's voice trembled. "You've cut your wrists again!"

"I'll cut off my wrist for you, don't ruin yourself." He said this with his eyes red as if they were about to bleed, and he stretched out his hand, palm open in front of Xie Qinglan.

His hand was wrapped in gauze; it was from the injury he sustained that day when he blocked a sword with his bare hands.

"You can stab me with a knife, and I won't even flinch. Just don't hurt yourself—" Xiao Jingyuan's voice was hoarse and broken, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth.

Xie Qinglan raised her head, glanced at him, then lowered her eyes, her tone calm, "It wasn't a wrist-cutting. I just smashed a teacup and accidentally cut myself while cleaning up the shards."

The imperial physician nodded tremblingly, "Your Majesty, what Lord Xie said is true. The wound is very shallow, just a superficial injury."

Xiao Jingyuan stood frozen in place, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. He had been terrified. He thought Xie Qinglan had… He dared not think any further.

Xiao Jingyuan took a deep breath, turned to Gao An, and his gaze was as cold as a knife.

Gao An was so frightened that he knelt down with a thud and kowtowed repeatedly: "This servant deserves to die, this servant didn't see clearly—"

"Go and collect your twenty strokes of the cane."

"Yes, yes!"

Gao An scrambled out of the room.

Xiao Jingyuan stood in the hall, unsure whether to stay or leave. He had been frightened earlier, but now that he knew it was all a misunderstanding, he should leave. However, his legs wouldn't obey him, and he couldn't move an inch.

Xie Qinglan glanced at him.

This was the first time the two had faced each other since that night. The man stood in the hall, at a loss, his face still flushed from running, a few strands of hair disheveled, and the hem of his dragon robe dusty.

He doesn't resemble an emperor at all.

It looks more like a wolfhound that has been scared out of its wits.

"Since Your Majesty is here, please have a seat." Xie Qinglan's tone remained indifferent.

Xiao Jingyuan was stunned for a moment.

In his previous life, Xie Qinglan had said the same thing to him: "Since Your Majesty is here, please take a seat."

That was long, long after he had imprisoned Xie Qinglan in the Lan Yue Pavilion. He pleaded and begged relentlessly until Xie Qinglan finally spoke to him for the first time.

He was so happy that he almost lost his footing. He still tried to maintain his imperial demeanor, but his steps were already light and airy as he stepped out.

Instead of sitting on the embroidered stool by the bed, he insisted on sitting on the bed itself, next to Xie Qinglan, grinning mischievously as he moved closer. Xie Qinglan coldly moved an inch to the side, and he moved closer again; an inch further, and he moved closer again—until he cornered Xie Qinglan against the wall, with nowhere left to retreat.

Xie Qinglan's ears turned bright red, but his face remained as indifferent as ever. He said, "If Your Majesty has nothing else to say, please leave." He lingered, grinning, and said, "Yes, yes, my most important thing is to keep you company."

Back then, he was incredibly bold, his skin was thicker than a palace wall, he dared to do anything and say anything. He thought there was plenty of time, that one day he could warm this person's heart.

But all that youthful arrogance and reckless courage was buried on the day Xie Qinglan hanged herself in her previous life.

Now he sat on the embroidered stool by the bed, his back straight, his hands on his knees, carefully keeping a distance of two feet from Xie Qinglan, as proper as a young official attending court for the first time, even his breathing was extremely soft.

Xie Qinglan looked at him like this, and couldn't quite describe the feeling in her heart.

That person in his past life was never like this in front of him—back then he was domineering, arrogant, and unquestionable, his eyes were red and his voice was hoarse when he pressed him down on the dragon bed, with a kind of ruthless and reckless force.

"Your Majesty need not worry, I will not seek death," Xie Qinglan spoke first, his voice very soft. "I really did cut myself by accident just now."

Xiao Jingyuan nodded without saying anything.

There was a moment of silence.

"That day—" Xie Qinglan lowered her eyes, carefully choosing her words, "His Majesty said—'Her Majesty told me to hate you, to hate you as I did in my past life.' What did those words mean?"

Xiao Jingyuan clenched his hands on his knees, his knuckles turning white.

"It doesn't mean anything."

"Since Your Majesty has spoken, I would like to hear an explanation."

"I..." Xiao Jingyuan opened his mouth, his lips moved a few times, but in the end he only said, "Take good care of yourself, I will come to see you another day."

He stood up, turned, and walked towards the exit of the hall. His steps were quick, almost as if he were fleeing.

Xie Qinglan watched his figure disappear outside the door, then slowly closed her eyes.

He still refused to say.

What is he afraid of?

Xie Qinglan leaned against the headboard, turning her face away from the window. The leaves of the old plum tree in the courtyard rustled in the night wind, as if speaking for someone who couldn't say what was on their mind.

Although Gao An was punished, Xiao Jingyuan still sent him to work at Tingxuexuan the next day. Despite his injured backside and limping gait, he still wore that respectful smile.

"Thank you, sir. This is today's medicine." He placed the medicine bowl on the table, then took out a dish of candied plums from his sleeve and gently placed it next to the medicine bowl. "They were freshly pickled by the imperial kitchen; they're very sweet."

Xie Qinglan glanced at the plate of plums and nodded: "Thank you for your trouble, Eunuch Gao."

He picked up the medicine bowl and drank it all in one gulp, then picked up a plum and put it in his mouth. The sweetness melted on his tongue, suppressing the bitterness of the medicine.

He remembered that it was the same when he was sick in his previous life—every time he refused to drink the medicine because he thought it was too bitter, Xiao Jingyuan would find different ways to coax him.

Sometimes it was candied fruit, sometimes it was candied osmanthus. Once, she even clumsily made a few sugar figurines, saying that she made them in his likeness, but the things she made were crooked and twisted, with big heads and small bodies, and were ugly beyond recognition. She put them on his bedside table.

He watched it all night, reaching out several times to touch the ugly sugar figure, only to pull his hand back in mid-air.

The next morning, the sugar figurine was gone. He didn't know if it had been taken away by the palace servants or if that person had taken it back and hidden it.

He never asked.

I never saw such ugly sugar figurines again.

Xie Qinglan suddenly spoke up: "Eunuch Gao, the dishes from the imperial kitchen last time—were they not made by the imperial chefs?"

Gao An was taken aback for a moment, a hint of panic flashing across his face, before he quickly regained his respectful demeanor: "Thank you for joking, Lord Xie. Who else could it be but the imperial chef?"

Xie Qinglan didn't press him further, only glancing at him. That glance, though faint, sent a thin layer of sweat down Gao An's back.

"These plums weren't pickled by the imperial kitchen, were they?" Xie Qinglan's tone was very soft, not like she was asking a question, but more like she was talking to herself.

Gao Anqian chuckled twice but didn't reply.

Xie Qinglan spat the plum pit into her handkerchief and lowered her eyes.

He knew without being told who made those dishes.

It tastes so bad.

It tastes just as bad as that bowl of porridge from my past life.

The plums were pickled too sweet; they were cloyingly sweet.