Who said the eldest daughter is crazy? She's clearly a woman of high rank and influence in the

Xi Yueli opened her mouth and bit down in a daze, with very light force, just holding it in her mouth, as if she had grasped something she could rely on.

He freed his left hand and probed her pulse again, placing his fingertips on the inside of her wrist and listening intently for a moment. Then he raised his other hand and gently twisted half a circle around the silver needle between her eyebrows.

The moonlight shone on the two of them. He sat on the ground in front of the bed, and she curled up in his arms. Their shadows overlapped and spread on the blue bricks, blurring into a large patch of indistinguishable darkness.

Her breathing gradually became longer and more even. Her forehead pressed against his collarbone, the tip of her nose brushed against the fine stitches on his clothes, and her teeth still clenched the flesh of his right wrist, but the force had loosened, leaving only two rows of shallow teeth marks on his wrist bone.

Helian Jing looked down at her. Her eyelashes were clearly visible in the moonlight, there was a layer of bluish-gray shadow under her eyes, her lips were chapped, and there was a trace of dried blood at the corner of her lips.

The face was completely unguarded at that moment, its tightly closed eyelids trembling slightly, as if it were still struggling with something in a dream.

Her hand had somehow grabbed the corner of his shirt hem, her thumb and forefinger pinching the fabric tightly.

She didn't open her eyes, but unconsciously buried her face in his chest, loosened her grip on his wrist between her teeth, and mumbled something indistinctly, her voice as soft as a mosquito's hum.

He had to bring his ear closer to hear clearly.

"Don't go..." she said.

Helian Jing leaned against the edge of the bed, looking down at the person in his arms who was now fast asleep. He remained silent for a long time before gently placing his hand on the back of her head and covering the top of her head with his palm.

"I'm not leaving," he said, his voice so soft that only the moonlight could hear it.

In her sleep, Xi Yueli finally relaxed her furrowed brows, and the two fingers that had been gripping his clothes slowly loosened, falling to his knees.

Helian Jing sat motionless on the ground, his back against the edge of the bed, the person in his arms curled up in a small ball, his right hand on the back of her head, and his left hand on his knee.

He loosened the back of her head, took out a small bottle of wound medicine from a hidden pocket at his waist, uncorked it, dipped his fingertip in it, and very lightly applied it to the teeth marks on her wrist.

She hissed softly in her sleep, her brow furrowing slightly, but she didn't wake up. She simply nuzzled her face against his chest, like a cat that had found a warm nest and refused to move.

He put the medicine bottle back in, then gently pulled her head back and brushed her stray hairs away from her forehead.

Later, he fell asleep there, in an awkward position, his back against the hard edge of the bed, his chin resting on the top of her head, his breathing even, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other on her shoulder.

The moonlight illuminated half of his profile, and the aloofness that usually hung between his brows and eyes vanished completely while he slept, revealing a relaxed and unguarded side beneath.

Helian Jing woke up just before dawn.

Looking down, he saw that Xi Yueli had turned over at some point, her face turned towards him, her forehead resting on his chin, and her hand had somehow loosened its grip on his clothes and was now resting on his wrist.

She was still asleep, her brows relaxed, the dry, cracked line on her lips seemed to have faded a bit, and her steady breathing brushed against the fabric of his collarbone, warm and gentle through the cloth.

Helian Jing pulled his wrist out of her hand. The silver needle was still between her eyebrows. He raised his hand, twisted the end, and gently pulled it out. He pressed his fingertip on the needle hole above her eyebrows for a moment before releasing it.

He sat up all night, his legs were stiff, and when he stood up, they were numb.

He looked down at Xi Yueli, who was still curled up on the ground, thought for a moment, bent down, picked her up from the ground, and put her back on the bed.

Her frame pressed against his arm, and he could feel the angle of her shoulder blades even through her nightgown. He pulled the blanket up for her, put the hand she had bitten under the blanket, and tucked the stray hairs scattered on the pillow behind her ear.

Helian Jing turned and walked to the window. Before stepping out, he tilted his head and looked at the indigo cotton paper cover of the diary on the bedside table. He paused for a moment, then looked away and disappeared silently into the window gap where the morning light was just beginning to penetrate.

As dawn broke, Qingdai pushed open the door and saw Xi Yueli nestled peacefully in the quilt, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Xi Yueli had already woken up and was looking at her with her eyes half-closed. Her gaze was much clearer than it had been a few days ago, but her lips were chapped and her face was still pale and bloodless.

"Young lady, last night—"

"I had a dream." Xi Yueli propped herself up on her elbows and sat up. The collar of her nightgown slipped down halfway, revealing a shallow indentation on her shoulder, as if she had been poked by something hard all night.

She looked down and followed the direction of the indentation, and saw a small section of yellowish-brown fabric peeking out from under the pillow.

Qingdai tactfully withdrew.

Xi Yueli reached out and took out the object. It was a palm-sized oilcloth bag, tied with a tight knot made of three loops of thin hemp rope.

With great effort, she used her fingernails to untie the knot and lift the oilcloth. Inside lay a black iron token, about the size of her palm, entirely black, with a raised seal character on the front: "Yuan".

She rummaged through the oilcloth, but found nothing else. Clutching the token, she leaned against the headboard, her mind replaying the fragments of last night.

As she was thinking, a loud cry suddenly erupted outside the courtyard gate.

"Xi Yueli, you come out here!"

It was Xi Yuefu's voice, shrill and piercing, with a broken ending, carrying a hysterical arrogance.

The courtyard gate was pounded on loudly. The old woman sent by the grandmother to guard the gate tried to stop her, but Xi Yuefu's voice was already at its loudest:

"You locked my mother up! You ruined my face! And you still have the nerve to pretend to be sick and hide in the house! Come out here! If you have the guts, explain yourself to me face to face!"

Qingdai paced anxiously outside the door, then turned back and called into the house, "Miss, please don't come out! The Second Miss has brought several people with her—"

Xi Yueli had already gotten out of bed and thrown off the covers. She casually threw on an outer garment, slipped on her soft shoes, and went out the door.

The morning light filled the courtyard. Xi Yuefu stood at the gate, the gauze on her face still in place, with a little yellowish-brown medicine stain seeping through the edge. The exposed half of her face was red from crying.

She was followed by two maids and a rough old woman, but the people standing behind her were timid and hesitant, clearly frightened by the old lady's display of power last night, and dared not really rush into Jinxian Courtyard.

When Xi Yuefu saw her come out, her voice faltered for a moment, then rose again, "Weren't you so sick you couldn't even get out of bed? Weren't you quite the talker last night when you were playing tricks on my mother? You—"

Xi Yueli walked slowly through the courtyard, and paused for a moment when she passed the half-withered holly bush by the flower bed.

One of the holly branches was broken, the cut surface was white and still had a bit of dried dark color on it, the remnant of the withered branch that scratched Xi Yuefu's face the day before yesterday.

Her right hand reached out unconsciously.

Xi Yuefu saw her reach for the withered branch from across half the courtyard, and her expression suddenly changed.

The scene of that withered branch brushing against me under the moonlight the night before last instantly resurfaced from the depths of my memory, and the wound on my cheek, which had not yet healed, suddenly began to burn with pain.

Her crying stopped abruptly, and the hair all over her body stood on end as if she had been electrocuted. She turned and ran away.

She stumbled and fell as she ran, her skirt slipping and nearly causing her to fall at the courtyard gate. A maid helped her up, and she darted out of the Jinxian Courtyard gate. Her figure was faster than a rabbit's, and the curtain swayed several times before finally stopping.

Xi Yueli's hand stopped in mid-air, still three inches away from the withered branch.

She watched Xi Yuefu's figure disappear through the courtyard gate, slowly withdrew her hand, rubbed her fingertips together, and remained expressionless.

"What a coward."