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墨書 Inktalez
In Princess Manor, apart from a handsome and loyal shadow guard named Xin Yao, and a charming yet duplicitous scoundrel known as Consort, there were four unique male companions.
At this moment, the four companions were gathered in the Pavilion of the manor, leisurely chatting about gossip.
The first was Chu Ling, the son of the Northern Protectorate Prince. Dressed in a flowing gray robe that danced with the wind, he exuded an air of carefree arrogance. A slight smirk played on his lips, hinting at a touch of cynicism.
The second was the youngest among them, Gong Yu, clad in a fiery red robe that made him resemble a blooming flower. His beauty rivaled that of a woman, with lively eyes sparkling with curiosity as he chattered away.
The third was Wen Zhan, the son of the Minister of the Ministry of Revenue. He wore a blue garment and sat tall and straight. With sword-like brows and starry eyes, he possessed an elegant demeanor reminiscent of a refined gentleman from the bamboo grove. He quietly listened while occasionally interjecting with a comment or two.
The fourth was Heavy Brocade, the son of Lord Shen, an Imperial Censor. Dressed in a cloud-patterned robe, he appeared gentle and cultured. With a warm smile and kind eyes, he silently absorbed the discussions around him.
Yun Qingyu instructed an experienced old maidservant to go to the Pavilion and inform them, "Dinner will be served at the Eastern Pavilion tomorrow night."
Since their arrival at the manor, no one had particularly cared for them nor had anyone deliberately made things difficult for them; they simply occupied the title of Attendant without any real responsibilities.
Previously, when the princess favored Consort above all else, she had hardly acknowledged their presence, so they had never competed for her affection or tried to stand out before her.
Now that Consort had fallen out of favor and was despised, the upcoming dinner gathering sparked a flicker of anticipation in their hearts.
Especially for Hong Yu, who felt secretly pleased at the thought that with his pretty face, he might just win the princess's favor tomorrow night.
That night, as Yun Qingyu slept soundly, he was suddenly awakened by a series of strange noises.
The sound was particularly jarring in the stillness of the night. She groggily opened her eyes, vaguely hearing that the noise seemed to be coming from Xin Yao.
A sense of confusion washed over her as she furrowed her brow. She got up, threw on a coat, and stepped out of her chamber.
As soon as she opened the door, she was startled to find Xin Yao shivering under his blanket, as if he were in an ice cellar. He looked extremely cold.
Yun Qingyu instinctively glanced at the window; it was tightly shut, with not a hint of night breeze seeping in.
Moreover, it was already late spring, and she herself was only wearing a thin nightgown, yet she didn’t feel particularly cold.
How could Xin Yao, a young and vigorous martial artist, be shivering like this?
Her curiosity deepened, and she slowly approached Xin Yao.
As she drew closer, she noticed that his lips had turned pale from the cold, and his body was instinctively curled up into a ball. It was clear that he wasn’t pretending.
Yun Qingyu's heart raced. Could he be ill?
She raised her hand and gently touched Xin Yao's forehead to check if he had a fever.
At that moment, Xin Yao suddenly jolted awake. His movements were as quick as lightning, alert like a ghost in the night.
In an instant, he sprang up, a flash of murderous intent flickering in his eyes as he seized the hand that had touched his forehead.
Until the stunningly noble face of Yun Qingyu suddenly appeared in his line of sight, his eyes regained their calm in an instant, the murderous intent vanishing without a trace, replaced instead by submission.
He quickly released Yun Qingyu's hand, panic evident on his face, as if regretting his earlier actions.
However, Yun Qingyu seized his pulse point with a swift motion, her sharp gaze scrutinizing Xin Yao's face.
At that moment, the unusual pallor that had marked Xin Yao was gone, and he looked no different from how he had during the day.
It was important to note that for a martial artist, having their pulse point controlled was extremely lethal; if someone were to attack him now, he would have no room to resist.
Xin Yao did not fight back but silently watched as Yun Qingyu checked his pulse.
Yet, from his pulse, Yun Qingyu could discern nothing unusual. This was strange; how could someone who appeared perfectly fine while awake be as cold as ice while sleeping?
Yun Qingyu furrowed her brow, filled with confusion.
She wanted to observe Xin Yao's condition more closely. After pondering for a moment, she said to him, "Go sleep on the bed in this palace."
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