Ye Jingchuan couldn’t help but feel that familiar sense of exclusion when he was around Song Chuyi and Zhou Weizhao. It crept up on him again, leaving him slightly disheartened. Song Chuyi clearly didn’t like him and trusted Zhou Weizhao far more. For instance, when Song Chuyi suddenly shuddered in fear earlier, Ye Jingchuan was helpless, but Zhou Weizhao only had to call her name to pull her out of it.

  The feeling was unbearable. After all, he was still a young man, and for the first time, he had someone he wanted to cherish in his heart. Yet that person seemed to avoid his feelings at all costs.

  The nterns along the corridor were relit, their warm, dim glow casting shadows that blurred Song Chuyi’s figure in the distance. She appeared veiled in a thin, indistinct light, making it difficult to see her clearly.

  Qingying hurriedly approached and reported to Song Chuyi, “Ma San and Sun Ergou are seriously injured. Doctor Yan says it’ll be tricky to handle. The others only have minor injuries—mostly sword wounds and surface cuts.”

  This courtyard had been compromised; Yuan Hui had discovered it. They couldn’t stay here any longer. Song Chuyi silently chastised herself for being too careless. While she had guarded against Yuan Hui, she had never expected him to be bold enough to send assassins openly in the capital.

  Surveying the chaos in the courtyard, she calmly instructed Qingying to have Doctor Yan prepare carriages. They would relocate to the house near Huang Daxian Temple. The courtyard was no longer safe, and if Princess Rongcheng wanted to accuse her of being the target of the assassins, she would need this location as evidence. Thankfully, the house near the temple had always been guarded. With Zhou Weizhao’s people next door and Ma Changjiang and the others on high alert, things should remain calm for a while.

  After that, they would set out for Jinzhong.

  Ma Changjiang, clutching his wounded arm, spat furiously, “Let’s see them fall into my hands one day. When they do, I’ll make sure they beg for death!”

  He had spent his youth as a bandit before joining the military, and his rugged demeanor carried the weight of a man who had seen countless battles and shed plenty of blood. His words weren’t empty threats.

  Song Chuyi chuckled faintly, propping her head on her hand as she sat at the stone table, catching her breath. Turning to Ma Changjiang, she asked, “Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on Yuan Hui? If I remember correctly, he has an elderly mother and a married sister, doesn’t he?”

  No matter how powerful someone was, they weren’t born from thin air. Yuan Hui’s weakness was his filial piety. In her previous life, after assisting Prince Duan in ascending the throne, Yuan Hui was reviled as a traitor who disrupted the imperial lineage. His mother shut him out of their home, forcing him to kneel outside for days on end.

  Later, when his brother-in-w ran afoul of the w, Yuan Hui pleaded with Prince Duan on his behalf, securing both an official position for him and a noble title for his sister.

  Song Chuyi hadn’t originally pnned to stoop to such underhanded tactics. But she realized she had no choice—she could show mercy, but her enemies wouldn’t. If not for Zhou Weizhao and Ye Jingchuan, she would already be dead. She had sworn that whoever tried to kill her would pay the ultimate price.

  Ma Changjiang was momentarily stunned by Song Chuyi’s knowledge. Even he hadn’t considered such details. After all, wasn’t it normal for monks to have family? After some thought, he recalled that Yuan Hui visited his mother and sister monthly. “That’s right!” he excimed. “He does have a mother and a married sister living in Baihe Vilge at the foot of Huangjue Temple. I think his brother-in-w is the vilge head.”

  Though Yuan Hui had achieved great progress in Buddhist teachings, he wasn’t a true ascetic. His family ties rooted him in the mundane world. His concern for his mother and sister meant he couldn’t completely detach himself.

  “Good.” The moonlight spilled over Song Chuyi’s face, her long shes casting faint shadows across her cheeks. “At dawn tomorrow, take some men out of the city. Bring back his mother, sister, and brother-in-w. Treat them well and house them in a civilian residence for now. Don’t expose yourselves.”

  Having lived through forty years of hardships, Song Chuyi had always tread cautiously, but now, she refused to remain passive. Any obstacles in her path would be removed, one by one.

  “Don’t act recklessly...” Ye Jingchuan tried to dissuade her, but when he met her cold, indifferent gaze, his words faltered, and his voice softened. “I mean, the monks at Huangjue Temple follow Yuan Hui’s orders more than the abbot’s. He’s skilled, and provoking him...”

  “He won’t have the chance.” Song Chuyi locked eyes with Zhou Weizhao. “Your Highness, my words from st time still stand. You’ve helped me greatly, and I would give my life for you if necessary. But now... could you help me once more?”

  The night breeze stirred her already disheveled hair, causing her bun to unravel completely. Her long hair cascaded down like a waterfall over her dark red cloak, accentuating her delicate features.

  Qingzhu stood nearby, frantically gesturing at Zhou Weizhao, urging him to agree immediately.

  “Night dew is heavy; we should head back first.” Zhou Weizhao neither agreed nor refused. Instead, he turned to Qingying and instructed, “Attend to your miss and help her freshen up. I’ll personally escort her home.”

  Qingzhu exchanged a gnce with Hanfeng, both feeling that their prince was somewhat clueless.

  The night deepened, and a half-moon had already risen above the treetops. Qingying curtsied and acknowledged the instruction, then helped Song Chuyi turn and walk into the inner hall.

  Only then did Zhou Weizhao instruct Qingzhu, "Take my jade pendant and go with Hanfeng to my aunt's residence in person..."

  Ye Jingchuan, feeling stifled, thought he seemed to g behind Zhou Weizhao and Song Chuyi in every way. Taking a deep breath, he stopped Qingzhu. "I should go instead. It's easier for me to expin things to my sister-in-w than for you."

  Since Qingzhu and Hanfeng were familiar faces often seen around Zhou Weizhao, their appearance would inevitably draw attention. As the younger brother of the imperial princess’s husband, Ye Jingchuan could handle such matters far more discreetly.

  At the very least, being able to help her in some way was better than standing around helplessly.

  He was indeed a more prudent choice than Qingzhu and Hanfeng. Zhou Weizhao paused, turned to look at Ye Jingchuan, and after a moment, sighed softly. "Be careful, then."