Favored concubine deposed empress? I'll seize your throne and marry you to a powerful minister.

Ling Xianru stumbled forward, her knees sinking into the muddy puddles, and carefully picked her up.

The person in my arms was as light as a withered leaf, cold and lifeless.

"Wei Rong".

His voice was hoarse and broken as he whispered soothingly into her cold ear, with an unprecedented fear in his voice, "Wake up."

"I want...Xiao Heng... dead."

A barely audible whimper escaped from her lips; her forehead was burning hot from being soaked in the icy stream water for too long.

Ling Xianru hugged her tightly, her lips brushing haphazardly across her forehead. She first ordered someone to bring Doctor Qian, then picked her up and carried her into the nearest cave.

Wei Rong had just as many abrasions as Xiao Heng, with almost no unscathed areas, and several pieces of skin were broken on her face.

But if Lingxian has no time to attend to that, the most urgent task is to dry Wei Rong's clothes, reduce her fever, and clean her wounds, as she can't withstand any more turmoil.

The hidden natural caves along the riverbank became the only place to stay in this desperate situation.

He ordered the Imperial Guards to stand guard outside, and the sound of their voices filled the air like a bonfire, the warm yellow flames scattering across the damp, cold cave.

He had Wei Rong use his lap as a pillow, took off her outer garment, and moved her close to the fire to ward off the cold.

They also ordered the Imperial Guards to gather some common, easily identifiable herbs to carefully clean her wounds and bandage the bruises. Their fingertips moved with extreme gentleness, as if afraid that even the slightest force would hurt Wei Rong.

A breeze picked up outside the cave, rustling the leaves and isolating the cave from all worldly strife.

Inside the cave, firewood crackled and flickered, casting a faint glow.

Looking at her furrowed brows and her unconsciously trembling fingertips, Ling Xianru knew that during her four years of seclusion in the deep palace, she had been tormented by old dreams every night.

The bloodshed of Yimeng Mountain, her father's tragic death, the injustice done to the Wei family, and Xiao Heng's betrayal have long been etched into her bones, becoming scars that will never heal.

Wei Rong's eyelashes trembled slightly as she slowly opened her eyes.

Through his blurry vision, he saw Ling Xianru's calm and gentle eyes, the exhaustion from not sleeping all night, and the tenderness in her eyes that was reserved only for her.

"You saved me?" Her voice was dry and slightly hoarse.

"Hmm." Ling Xianru leaned down, her fingertips gently brushing away the stray hairs from her forehead, the warmth soothing her chill. "Imperial Physician Qian will be here soon, do you want to sleep a little longer?"

Wei Rong shook her head: "Thirsty."

Her high fever had not subsided, and she was in a daze as if in a dream.

The water bag was quickly handed in. The imperial guard, without glancing at it, handed it to Ling Xianru and hurriedly left.

The Prime Minister and the Empress...

The way they cuddled together was so beautiful that it was almost unbearable to look at them.

Strangely enough, compared to the seemingly harmonious relationship between the emperor and empress in the past, these two seem to have a deep affection for each other.

Especially the way the Prime Minister looked at the Empress.

Ling Xianru helped Wei Rong up, letting her lean against her shoulder, and carefully fed her water.

As Wei Rong moved, she aggravated the wound on her face. She frowned and let out a painful groan, instinctively raising her hand to touch it.

"Don't touch it," Ling Xianru grasped her hand, her warm palm enveloping her coldness. "Your face was scratched by thorns. I only did a simple treatment; we need to wait for Physician Qian to apply the medicine."

As she fell, Wei Rong felt as if thorns were scratching her entire body.

There shouldn't be a single visible part of his body now.

Lingxian, you don't mind?

She took a few sips of water, calmed down a bit, and then asked, "Where's Xiao Heng?"

"Send him back to camp first, and we'll make further plans after you return to the palace."

The Imperial Guards were Yun Sheng's men, the Court of Judicial Review was his men, and the Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of War also followed him.

Ling Xianru was not worried that Xiao Heng would be secretly protected after returning to the palace.

After all, there was Wei Xing waiting to take his life on the cliff top.

The hatred for the murderer of one's father is irreconcilable.

The situation in Dajing is indeed about to change.

Wei Rong knew it was inappropriate for him to hold her in his arms, and she wondered what his passing subordinates would think.

But she simply didn't have the strength to break free: "Thank you."

These three words, though not spoken loudly, carry immense weight.

From this angle, all that could be seen was her slightly tired face and her raven-feather-like eyelashes, which obscured her eyelids, making it impossible to discern her emotions.

He deliberately teased her: "What are you thanking me for?"

"Many," Wei Rong's lips parted slightly, "I don't know how many obstacles you've secretly cleared for me over the years. Thank you for each and every one of them. You always remember that year when the Wolf Clan helped you out of trouble, but you've already paid it all back. Perhaps I owe you even more."

Ling Xianru knew that this was Wei Rong's rejection.

She was always clear-headed and knew right from wrong. She was unwilling to get entangled with him, much less to incur a debt of gratitude that was difficult to repay.

Outside the cave, the mountain wind howled, passing through the cracks in the rocks, emitting a long, mournful sound, like the soft sighs of countless people whose grievances have not yet been redressed.

The fire crackled, and the flickering flames reflected in Ling Xianru's deep eyes, concealing surging emotions suppressed for years.

He didn't answer immediately, but slowly tightened his arms around her back, restraining his strength, afraid of hurting her many wounds.

"Do you really think I did all this to repay your kindness?" His voice was low and carried the damp chill of the mountains. "That incident back then wasn't a debt I needed to settle."

Wei Rong turned her head slightly to avoid his burning gaze. The abrasion on her cheek twitched slightly, bringing a dull, throbbing pain. The high fever still lingered in her limbs, leaving her weak and sore all over; even turning her neck took effort.

"But I don't want to be indebted to anyone forever. Once Xiao Heng's crimes are made public and the situation in the Great Jing Dynasty is settled, I will make my own arrangements."

She had already made up her mind. After Xiao Heng's crimes were proven, the palace would be a cage for her, and she did not want to be trapped within those four palace walls.

Ling Xianru lowered his eyes to look at her pale and thin profile, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.

Sometimes he thinks, "Forcing things won't make them sweet."

But when he saw her fall into the abyss with Xiao Heng from the cliff, boundless fear swept over him. He no longer wanted to hide all his plans, nor did he want to exclude Wei Rong from his schemes.

"If you're not sleepy, I'll tell you about my background."

Wei Rong was startled, slowly raising her eyes to look at him. The firelight illuminated his features, revealing a complex and unspeakable emotion churning within the usually composed and calm Prime Minister, a feeling so heavy it was unsettling. "What do you want to say?"

"Ling Xianru, these three characters are not an alias I randomly chose after infiltrating Dajing." He gently stroked her cold hand with his fingertips, his tone calm, yet it stirred up a storm of emotions.

"If someone were to travel to Donglin and peruse the imperial genealogy, they would know that the Crown Prince of Donglin was also named Ling Xianru."

Wei Rong's pupils suddenly contracted, and her breathing abruptly stopped.

Crown Prince of Donglin?

That heir to the Eastern Lin royal family, who was thousands of miles away and not subordinate to the Great Jing.

She had heard countless times about the turmoil in the Eastern Lin court and the struggle for the throne among the princes, but she had never connected the Prime Minister, who held great power in the Great Jing Dynasty, with the Crown Prince of a distant foreign country.

"More than ten years ago, the Eastern Palace was rife with undercurrents, and the princes were eyeing it covetously. I lost my mother as soon as I was born."