Chapter 47: The Tenderness of Zilin

Phoenix Xiao Li quickly returned to her own room and changed out of her damp clothes into something dry and comfortable. Still, getting caught in the rain had left her chilled. The door opened, and in came Jin Ning, whose head was still bandaged from her recent injury.

“The Prince said it’s best if I take care of you, miss. I truly can’t trust anyone else. I never expected Fei Rong to treat you like that… You’ve really suffered these past few days!” Jin Ning chattered on, but Phoenix Xiao Li, though she found Jin Ning a bit long-winded, appreciated her sincerity—it was far better than Fei Rong’s hypocrisy.

At the thought of Fei Rong, Phoenix Xiao Li’s gaze darkened. She remembered the ashen look on Fei Rong’s face last night—clearly, the old man’s punishment had been severe. Otherwise, how could she have looked so devastated? But what did any of this have to do with her? She had done nothing wrong; Fei Rong had brought it on herself. It was only right she should be punished. Still, it was surprising to realize how lenient and generous the old man usually was with her, compared to his strictness with his subordinates. An indescribable feeling welled up in Phoenix Xiao Li’s heart.

Everyone wears a different face before different people; behind your back, they may do things you’d never expect.

Jin Ning handed over a fresh bowl of ginger soup. After catching a chill, nothing was better than a hot drink to warm the body. Phoenix Xiao Li wrapped herself in her quilt, shivering as she silently complained about how frail she’d become since leaving the mountain. At this rate, Yue Wanqing would surely laugh at her.

She’d never tasted ginger soup before. The first sip made her grimace and spit it out—it was far too spicy! She loved sweets, not spicy food. Even the slightest hint of heat was too much.

“I’m not drinking this—absolutely not! I don’t like it,” she declared, setting the bowl aside and shaking her head in refusal.

“You must, miss. The Prince insisted. If you won’t drink the ginger soup, you’ll have to take a bowl of bitter medicine instead—and I’ve heard not even candied fruit can mask that taste!” Jin Ning coaxed, trying every trick to persuade her.

What? That would be even worse! But she really didn’t want to drink it.

“All right, all right. Just leave the ginger soup here, Jin Ning, and I’ll drink it later, okay?” Rubbing her head, which was starting to feel dizzy, Phoenix Xiao Li realized she truly had caught a chill—but she dreaded the bitter medicine even more.

After setting down the ginger soup, Jin Ning glanced around the spacious room, picked up the blooming clivia plant, and prepared to take it away. Phoenix Xiao Li watched, baffled. “Jin Ning, what are you doing? Why are you taking the clivia?”

“The Prince said—” Jin Ning explained, “he’s worried you’ll pour the ginger soup into the flowerpots, so he told me to remove every plant from your room. And don’t even think about dumping it outside—the Prince’s hidden guards are stationed everywhere!” Jin Ning grinned slyly. “So, miss, you’d better just drink it like a good girl!”

That wretched old man! How could he know exactly what she was planning? Was he some kind of clairvoyant? If he was so clever, why pretend to be just an idle noble? Surely the Emperor must know his true abilities.

Seeing Phoenix Xiao Li’s exasperated expression, Jin Ning’s mood visibly improved. As the Prince predicted, the young lady really had intended to get rid of the ginger soup—this time, she had no chance.

“Fine!” Phoenix Xiao Li sighed in resignation. “Just go out, Jin Ning. I’ll drink it in a moment!” When Jin Ning eyed her suspiciously, she repeated, “Really, I promise I’ll drink it.”

Satisfied with her assurance, Jin Ning finally left. The next instant, Phoenix Xiao Li felt a strong arm wrap around her waist, pulling her into a familiar embrace.

That distinctive scent filled her senses, the faint breath warm against her neck. That purple robe—who else would wear it but him?

Of course, it was Zi Lin.

Seeing Zi Lin appear before her without anyone else noticing, Phoenix Xiao Li could only feel admiration, envy, and frustration. If only her own martial skills were so extraordinary—then she’d never have to be afraid of villains and could drive them away with confidence. During her last confrontations with the masked men in black, she’d managed to appear calm, but in truth her legs had been trembling. She’d only won thanks to some bizarre techniques, and those could only work once—next time, running away might be her only option.

It wasn’t that Phoenix Xiao Li didn’t want to practice martial arts; she simply lacked the knack for it. No matter how simple or complex the old man Xue Wu made his lessons, she could never remember the moves. That was why, in the five years she’d spent on Mount Xuewu, she’d mostly played around instead of training seriously.

“Zi Lin, your martial arts are incredible!” Phoenix Xiao Li exclaimed with genuine admiration.

Zi Lin smiled. From her lips, praise was rare—especially since she’d always resented him as the one whose presence seemed to bring the masked assailants.

“To hear you praise me, Li’er, makes me very happy,” Zi Lin said, tightening his arm around her waist.

“I never hesitate to praise those who deserve it. By the way, who’s better—you or Wanqing?” Phoenix Xiao Li had always wondered about this. She didn’t know just how skilled Wanqing was, so she was eager to hear Zi Lin’s opinion.

Zi Lin rested his chin on her shoulder, his tone teasing. “If Miss Wanqing tried to sneak in here, the Prince’s guards would notice.”

With that, Phoenix Xiao Li understood his meaning. Zi Lin had come and gone from her room many times, always without the hidden guards detecting him. The old man’s subordinates were skilled, but compared to Zi Lin, they were just a shade less accomplished.

“Still, Miss Wanqing is on par with the Prince’s hidden guards,” Zi Lin added.

In other words, Yue Wanqing’s abilities were not to be underestimated. Among the noblewomen of Huai Jing, few knew martial arts; aside from Yue Wanqing, only Phoenix Xiao Li herself could claim some skill. Yet she wasn’t truly the legitimate daughter of Prince Chun’s household, so, strictly speaking, only Yue Wanqing truly counted.

“And you, Li’er?” Zi Lin leaned closer, his handsome face just inches from hers, a slender finger gently lifting her chin. The two were pressed so close that if he moved the slightest bit more, their lips would meet.

The pose lingered. A blush crept over Phoenix Xiao Li’s cheeks and colored her ears. Zi Lin noted it all, but he was a man who understood boundaries—he would never force her, but would wait for her to come to him.

Still, her flush faded quickly, and she averted her eyes like a shy maiden caught in a secret, the gesture not escaping Zi Lin’s notice.

“Li’er, do you know? You look absolutely adorable when you’re like this.”