Chapter 28

Qingwu naturally wanted to see him; she still had questions about what Ningchun had mentioned.

Du Jin sat down to check Pei Muzi’s pulse. Qingwu paced back and forth, centering her movements around the two of them, stopping occasionally to glance at them.

"Princess, please calm yourself."

After Du Jin finished writing the prescription and handed it to Zhixue, Qingwu called out to stop him. "Go to Qingsong Garden and bring An Qi here to dress Pei Muzi’s wounds."

She snatched the writing brush from Du Jin’s hand, placed it on the desk, and pulled him toward the door. "Come on, let’s go see what you’ve been studying in the garden."

Du Jin had no chance to refuse; he didn't even have time to grab his medicine chest before being dragged out into the courtyard.

Pei Muzi watched their retreating figures, his hands clenched into fists on his knees, before slowly relaxing as if he had come to some realization.

Qingwu dismissed everyone else, walking alone with Du Jin toward the garden.

News from the palace had leaked out in bits and pieces. The servants cleaning the grounds kept their heads down; there was no chatter or laughter in the manor, and the atmosphere was far heavier than usual.

Qingwu walked in front, head down, counting the stone tiles. "If Ling Yu does not wish to see the Emperor, you can simply push the reason for the refusal onto me."

Du Jin followed behind, carrying his medicine kit. He gazed at her skipping figure with a doting smile, though his voice remained carefully devoid of emotion. "His Majesty did not make things difficult for me; he only spoke of matters concerning you, Princess."

Qingwu turned back abruptly, her face falling. "You are not allowed to see the Emperor alone."

It wasn’t that she worried about what the Emperor might do to Du Jin; she feared that he would be forced to constantly relive the events of ten years ago, leaving him in pain. After all, the General’s manor had been nearly wiped out overnight, and the young heir who had once been held in such high regard had fallen into the mud—no one could experience such a tragedy and simply laugh it off.

Du Jin understood her intent. His brows smoothed out, but the sorrow on his face remained. He always felt that Qingwu treated him with more distance than when they were children. At times, she would deliberately cater to his feelings, and this cautious probing felt like a high wall standing between them. He could not cross it, and perhaps she had never intended to take the step.

They didn't speak again until they reached the garden entrance. The guards standing watch were not from the Princess’s manor; they only allowed them entry after Du Jin revealed a faded, obscure wooden token.

"Why is the security so tight?" Qingwu asked, confused. The guards were unfamiliar, and they only recognized the token Du Jin produced.

"His Majesty asked me to keep it secret from you for the time being, but I believe you have the right to know." Du Jin led her to the center of the garden, where the entire layout was visible.

The laborers working there moved quietly. Where flat shovels should have been used, they had switched to hammers and nails, chiseling away slowly. If one hadn't walked inside, they never would have guessed that a secret passage connecting to the outside was being dug beneath the Princess’s manor.

Du Jin patiently pointed out several spots for Qingwu to see. "His Majesty originally set the exit in the hunting grounds outside the city, but I deemed that unsafe. I designed four diversion paths midway, just in case."

Qingwu had always trusted Du Jin, so she let him handle it as he saw fit.

Seeing her expression remained calm—she seemed neither surprised nor troubled by his actions—Du Jin hesitated before cautioning, "Princess, it would be best not to tell Young Master Pei about this."

"Why would I tell him?" Qingwu asked, slightly startled.

In matters of such absolute secrecy, the fewer people who knew, the safer it was. Sometimes, a few accidentally leaked words could invite a fatal disaster. She had known this truth since childhood.

Du Jin’s shoulders slumped, a bitter smile touching his lips. "You treat Young Master Pei differently than the many other young men you’ve known."

At the very least, he had never been summoned by the Princess to treat any other man before. As a physician, he had a benevolent heart and harbored no ill will toward Pei Muzi, but he couldn't help feeling a sense of bitterness. His gaze dimmed, and he let out a long sigh, though he wasn't even sure what he meant by those words. It was clear there were two positions beside the Princess, yet he felt that no matter how long he waited, there would never be a place for him.

Qingwu stopped walking, and Du Jin, lost in his own thoughts, almost bumped into her.

"Princess, I..."

The distance between them was very close. Qingwu neither spoke nor continued walking; instead, she bowed slightly, tilting her head to meet his eyes. Du Jin turned his gaze away, but Qingwu forced him to look down.

"I treat you much differently!" she said with a smile. "How could they ever compare to you?"

Du Jin lifted his eyes, then quickly looked away, leading the way through the garden in silence.

Qingwu believed she was speaking the truth. Aside from Du Jin, who else could take her jade token and move freely through the Princess’s manor? Not to mention that she had forged official records for him, allowing him to have a legitimate status so he wouldn't have to rely on her forever. Looking at the current situation, even she—the great tree he relied on—wasn't standing steady and might topple any day.

"Hey, Du Lingyu." She called out twice, and when he still ignored her, she stamped her foot in frustration and walked in the opposite direction. That was the highest pavilion in the back garden, where there was no fear of eavesdropping.

Dazzled by her frank and passionate demeanor, Du Jin naturally took a few quick steps to overtake her, wanting to lead the way. A gentle breeze brushed through his wide sleeves, revealing the straight, unyielding posture of a scholar.

Qingwu frowned and tugged at his sleeve. "Why are you walking so fast? I’m trying to talk to you."

Du Jin’s footsteps faltered. A sense of indescribable helplessness rose within him, and he mustered the courage to ask, "Does the Princess not want me to stay at the manor?" His expression dimmed, as if awaiting a final judgment.

Qingwu: ???

When had she ever expressed such a thing?

"You’re quite good at twisting meanings." Qingwu walked toward the pavilion on the high ground. Her fever had only just broken, so the climb was a bit strenuous, and she remained silent.

Du Jin, acting like a mute, guarded her from behind, his eyes fixed on her back.

The pavilion had seats against all four sides, and the gauze curtains were drawn up. Qingwu sat on a wooden chair and patted the spot next to her. "Come sit."

Du Jin turned and sat opposite her, keeping a wide distance, and gave her a look that was hard to interpret—it looked quite aggrieved.

Qingwu: ...

Why were the people she kept in her manor all so temperamental? It was like raising ancestors. And yet, she had no way to deal with either of them.

*Forget it.* She didn't know when she had incurred such debts to them anyway.

Qingwu shifted, accommodating him by sitting beside him, watching the masterpiece he had managed to rush together in less than two days. The Wangfeng Pavilion was situated on high ground, making it easy to see the workers below. The pond had been drained, and the laborers piled the excavated sand and stone together, waiting for nightfall to quietly transport them to the mountains.

These men were under imperial orders to keep absolute silence from everyone else in the manor. They worked in rotating shifts, so until the very end, they wouldn't know what it was they were building.

Born in the royal family, Qingwu could already guess their fate. Living people were too easily influenced by many factors and were highly permeable, while the dead would never speak again. There would be no possibility of secrets leaking.

She didn't even need to think about it; these must be the death squads from her father’s side. Dying for the royal family was their destiny.

And what about Du Jin? Qingwu stared at him intently. The once high-spirited heir to the General’s manor had become the frail, white-clad man before her. What kind of mindset had he held when entering the palace? How had he convinced himself to take on this task assigned by the Emperor?

"You don't have to lower yourself to stay in the Princess’s manor for my sake."

Qingwu had wanted to say this for a long time. She had always believed that even if Du Lingyu could no longer ride a horse with a spear in hand, he could still do what he wanted, exerting his immense talent to the fullest to restore the prestige of the General’s manor, rather than digging escape tunnels for her here.

"Princess is my savior."

Du Jin seemed afraid that Qingwu might hear him clearly; his voice was very faint, the tail end of his words scattered by the wind. Yet he had a strong premonition that if he didn't say it now, he would never have the chance again.

"My father is also the man who killed your father." Qingwu’s eyes stung, and she dared not look into Du Jin’s eyes. "Lingyu, I treat you well because I have always felt guilty toward you."

Ten years ago, she felt she was in hell, and Du Jin had torn open a hole, leading her into the light. But after the incident, other than saving his life, she had no idea how to ease his pain.

Qingwu’s voice choked with sobs, but she didn't want to ruin the mood, so she struggled to keep the tears from falling.

***

Whenever she couldn't control herself, she wanted to cry in front of those close to her to vent her emotions.

Du Jin glanced at her quickly, a flicker of panic in his clear eyes. He pulled out a pure white silk handkerchief from his robes and handed it to her. The scent of medicine wrapped in the silk blended into Qingwu's breath, and it was as if a floodgate had opened; tears streamed from the corners of her eyes.

The wind from the high pavilion was much stronger than on the ground, and loose strands of hair, wet with tears, clung to her cheeks. Qingwu wept as she tried to brush the wild, dancing strands away.

*How did I end up crying like this... It’s too pathetic...*

Sparse, dappled light fell on her face, and her fair skin was tinged with a gentle yellow glow, making her look like a fleeting shadow in a dream. Du Jin watched her without moving, his heart feeling as though it were being sliced by a blade, condemning himself over and over. *Look at him, what had he said to make her cry like this?*

Until she was sobbing uncontrollably and couldn't even speak, Du Jin hesitated for a moment. His palm hovered over her back for a few seconds, and as if summoning great courage, he slowly patted her twice.

"Lingyu, you don't know what kind of person I am at all." Qingwu looked up at this moment, her cheeks flushed a soft, baby pink from the emotional outburst.

Du Jin withdrew his gaze, his eyes dimming, a sour, bitter liquid flowing through his heart.

In the past, he had been arrogant and unrestrained, relying on his family status. He couldn't stand seeing the little girl constantly looking so gloomy, so he began taking her out to catch shrimp and fish. After they became close, seeing the Empress force such a delicate princess to ride horses and practice swordplay—even forcing her to learn the statecraft and literary strategies meant only for princes—he felt more heartache than anything else.

Given the bond between his father and the Emperor, he was qualified to be the Princess’s consort. He thought he would protect her unconditionally for a lifetime, so she wouldn't have to live such a hard life. So, even if she grew up to be a bit willful in front of him, he felt it was a temperament he had indulged, and that she was uniquely special to him.

Later, when the General’s manor was executed, she had managed to regain her composure immediately after witnessing such cruelty and had saved him from the dungeon at the first opportunity. If this had been exposed, given the Empress’s severity, who knew what methods she would have used to punish her. Fortunately, the Emperor had awakened at that time and, to please the Princess, had indulged her this once.

What he hadn't expected was that the Princess’s manor would protect him for ten years.

Counting it up, he had known the Princess for more than a decade, and they had experienced each other’s most vulnerable, helpless moments. But now, Qingwu was saying that he didn't understand who she was?

*How could I be completely ignorant?*

Du Jin’s voice was hoarse, unable to suppress the self-mockery in his eyes. "Princess never gave me the chance to understand."

Qingwu looked