At the moment, the difficult situation left Lin Ting no time to think deeply about the sudden task.
Duan Ling’s lips moved slightly.
He neither denied nor confirmed that Lin Ting was his sister.
His expression remained as gentle as ever, appearing hesitant, yet in the next moment, he threw out his embroidered Spring Knife.
The knife traced a sharp, chilling arc through the air, its wind brushing against Lin Ting’s long hair.
Instinctively, she tilted her head slightly, while the person behind her quickly dodged.
At that very instant, Duan Ling seized a bow from one of his subordinates, nocked an arrow, and drew the bowstring.
The cold arrow whistled through the air, piercing through the dangling moon-shaped earring beneath Lin Ting’s earlobe and embedding itself into the shoulder of the knife-wielding man.
The iron arrowhead sank deep into flesh and bone.
The man groaned in pain, his grip on her loosening slightly.
Lin Ting didn’t wait for anyone to rescue her.
Seizing the opportunity, she swung her elbow backward, knocking him away before leaping down the stairs.
She had already calculated the height—at most, she would suffer a minor injury.
Her life was more important.
“As long as the green hills remain, there will always be firewood to burn.”
At this moment, chaos erupted in Nanshan Pavilion.
Tables and chairs were overturned.
Lin Ting was relatively lucky—she landed on the decorative carpet used to embellish the restaurant’s entrance.
After rolling a few times, she remained largely unscathed and didn’t feel much pain.
She quickly got to her feet.
A glimpse of pink fabric entered Lin Ting’s vision.
Upstairs, Duan Xinning’s hands were tied, her hair in disarray even messier than Lin Ting’s.
She was crying pitifully but dared not make a sound as she was shoved forward.
This was a tricky situation—Duan Xinning was still in their hands.
They had mistaken Lin Ting for “Duan Xinning,” yet they hadn’t let go of the real Duan Xinning either.
Fearing accidents, they had someone escorting her from behind while forcing Lin Ting to lead the way for them.
Duan Xinning had been traveling with Lin Ting today.
If anything happened to her, Lin Ting wouldn’t be able to escape blame.
No matter what, she had to find a way to save her.
Before she could act, an unexpected commotion broke out in the crowd that had yet to disperse.
A figure leaped down from the high floor, kicking away the knife that bound Duan Xinning, then swiftly pulled her into his embrace.
Grabbing a silk ribbon dangling in midair, he descended gracefully to the ground like drifting clouds.
Duan Xinning’s eyes widened, her hands instinctively clutching him.
Everything felt like a dream—except for the faint metallic scent of blood lingering in the air, proving it was real.
She blurted out, “Prince Xia.”
The two landed safely.
Xia Zimo released Duan Xinning, his peach blossom eyes curving slightly as he smiled.
“Apologies for the offense just now.”
Her eyes reflected his image.
He was handsome, with a red cinnabar mark between his brows.
His dark hair was tied with a jade crown, and he wore a blue-purple long robe with gold-thread embroidery on the wide sleeves—luxurious yet refined.
A jade belt secured his waist, clearly marking him as a nobleman.
Duan Xinning and Xia Zimo exchanged glances, her cheeks heating up.
But soon, she remembered the earlier danger, and fear caused her body to tremble slightly.
She lowered her head.
“I’m fine.”
The commotion had been quite loud.
Xia Zimo had been in the adjacent private room and noticed immediately.
However, he hadn’t acted rashly, knowing the kidnappers had two hostages, making the situation unpredictable.
Thus, he cooperated with Duan Ling to buy time for the rescue, and their teamwork was fairly smooth.
However, Xia Zimo hadn’t expected that the other hostage, a young woman, would be so bold—jumping straight down the stairs without hesitation.
She was dressed like a noble lady from the capital, yet her actions said otherwise.
He turned his head to look at her.
Lin Ting, knowing her place as a supporting character, quietly watched this scene that would undoubtedly strengthen the bond between the male and female leads.
When Xia Zimo’s gaze fell on her, she remained still, standing obediently in place.
Luckily, Duan Xinning wasn’t completely blinded by romance—she still remembered Lin Ting’s existence.
With several Jinyiwei escorting her, she quickly ran over to find Lin Ting, who felt quite comforted that this friendship wasn’t in vain.
Duan Xinning grasped Lin Ting’s hand, her face filled with concern.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
Lin Ting rotated her wrist, which had hit a wooden plank when she landed.
There was no bleeding.
The gods had blessed her—she had survived.
Duan Xinning let out a breath of relief.
The rest of the matter was no longer their concern.
The Jinyiwei swiftly took action, capturing everyone involved.
Duan Ling, unaffected by their curses, calmly ordered them to be escorted to the imperial prison.
Once everything was settled, he moved toward a secluded corner and sent someone to summon Duan Xinning.
Since childhood, Duan Xinning had always deeply respected her elder brother, Duan Ling, and had rarely gone against him.
She patted Lin Ting’s shoulder and whispered, “Wait for me here.”
Lin Ting sat on one of the few remaining chairs in Nanshan Pavilion, waiting for Duan Xinning.
Xia Zimo had not left yet; he leaned against the wall, tilting his head as he observed her.
Flashing a bright smile, he introduced himself in a casual, familiar tone, “I am Xia Zimo.”
In truth, Lin Ting felt a bit awkward facing Xia Zimo.
After all, she had read the original novel before transmigrating into this world, meaning she had essentially witnessed everything Xia Zimo and Duan Xinning had done together.
And what was the most abundant type of content in po novels?
A wide variety of erotic scenes.
Lin Ting coughed a few times to cover up her embarrassment.
Xia Zimo toyed with the jade pendant at his waist, glanced over at Duan Xinning, and asked casually, “Are you and Miss Duan close?”
“Somewhat.”
Lin Ting also looked in Duan Xinning’s direction, but her focus wasn’t on Xinning—it was on Duan Ling, who stood before her.
Was that system notification she had heard earlier just a hallucination caused by stress?
Her mind was in turmoil.
She didn’t have a good relationship with Duan Ling—in fact, it was downright hostile.
Lin Ting had been transmigrated into this world since birth, but before awakening her consciousness two years ago, she had merely functioned like an NPC, following the predetermined script of a villainous supporting character.
And every time she plotted against Duan Xinning, Duan Ling would see right through her and turn the tables.
For a while, Duan Ling had even warned Duan Xinning to stay away from Lin Ting.
But Duan Xinning, ever the naïve one, had still clung to her, trusting her wholeheartedly.
In short, Lin Ting had thoroughly offended Duan Ling.
In this restrictive novel, Duan Ling was the only one who never married and never even got a taste of romantic affection—and that was all thanks to Lin Ting.
She had deliberately sabotaged him, making his life miserable, though most of her schemes ended up being self-destructive as well.
Even worse, she had once thought herself clever.
Two years ago, Lin Ting had awakened to her own consciousness and had since tried, consciously or subconsciously, to avoid Duan Ling.
She knew the ruthless methods of the Jinyiwei (Embroidered Guards).
If she continued causing trouble, she might actually die.
Besides, all those things she had done before weren’t truly of her own volition.
But now, there was no avoiding it—she had to face Duan Ling directly.
As a transmigrated woman who only wanted to do business, make money, and enjoy life, Lin Ting was on the verge of breaking down.
She would much rather believe this wasn’t real.
Perhaps her gaze was too obvious.
Duan Ling, highly attuned to his surroundings, sensed it and turned to meet her eyes.
Their gazes locked in the air, devoid of any emotion, neither of them looking away first.
Duan Ling’s eyes were as warm and gentle as his appearance.
He never let his emotions show, as if he were a jade statue, carefully sculpted.
The Xiuchun blade he had thrown earlier had somehow returned to his hand.
There were still traces of blood on its tip.
Lin Ting’s expression flickered.
Duan Xinning, with her head lowered, remained oblivious to the silent tension between them.
She had realized that their flashy carriage had drawn unwanted attention, bringing trouble upon them, so she was the first to admit fault:
“I shouldn’t have made such a show of leaving the house, giving those criminals an opportunity.”
Duan Ling no longer looked at Lin Ting.
Instead, he gave a faint smile.
“The fault lies with them, not you. There’s no need to blame yourself.”
Duan Xinning was momentarily dazzled by his smile.
Her second brother was truly handsome.
She couldn’t understand why he had become a Jinyiwei—wasn’t their selection process focused on physical strength and martial prowess?
Though he wasn’t weak, he was always approachable at home and never imposed his status on others.
No matter how she looked at him, he didn’t seem like the Jinyiwei type.
As she pondered this, her thoughts drifted elsewhere.
Duan Ling wiped the blood from his blade, sheathed it, and pulled her back to reality.
“Let’s go home.”
“Aren’t you coming back with me?”
Duan Ling walked toward the exit.
“I still have official business to attend to. I probably won’t return tonight. Let Father and Mother know for me.”
Duan Xinning nodded.
“Alright. I’ll return with the Seventh Miss of the Lin family. We can keep each other company.”
He paused slightly, his fingers habitually rubbing the hilt of his Xiuchun blade.
Without turning back, he asked in a neutral tone, “Why do you trust her so much?”
“She sincerely treats me well. Why shouldn’t I trust her? Second Brother, do you have some kind of misunderstanding about her? You’ve always told me to stay away from her, but I… I enjoy spending time with her.”
Duan Xinning defended Lin Ting.
Duan Ling smiled slightly and said nothing more.
“Perhaps I was overthinking it.”
As soon as he left, Duan Xinning immediately went to find Lin Ting.
Xia Zimo was still there, unoccupied as he held no official position.
He enthusiastically volunteered to escort them home.
Though Duan Xinning showed no outward reaction, she was secretly overjoyed.
Xia Zimo first escorted Lin Ting back to the Lin residence before taking Duan Xinning home.
Lin Ting thought to herself:
What a perfectly mutual love—time to make my exit.
Barely had she sat down in the Lin residence when she was dragged off to kneel in the ancestral hall again.
Even at night, there was no peace.
Lin Third Master lectured her for half an hour in the ancestral hall.
Seeing no sign of remorse, he was furious at her lack of repentance.
With a flick of his sleeves, he stormed off, but not before sternly warning the servants:
“Anyone who dares to give this unfilial girl a kneeling mat will be expelled from the household!”
Lin Ting knew her mother had likely been deliberately held back and wouldn’t be able to come to her rescue tonight.
In this situation, she absolutely couldn’t talk back—otherwise, things would only escalate.
Tao Zhu sighed, seeing no other option.
She tried persuading her to yield.
“Seventh Miss, I beg you, just show some remorse to the Third Master. Save yourself from unnecessary suffering.”
Lin Ting said nothing.
“Is doing business really that important? You are the Seventh Miss of the Lin family. You will never have to worry about food or clothing.
All you need to do is marry into a good family and live comfortably as a noble wife. Why bother getting involved in the messy world of commerce?”
Tao Zhu couldn’t understand Lin Ting’s obsession with business—it was as if she had been possessed.
She had changed, becoming this way two years ago.
Lin Ting stood up and stopped kneeling.
“Stand guard outside the ancestral hall.”
If no one was watching, why should she kneel?
Business required flexibility, and so did punishments.
There was no need to stubbornly kneel until dawn.
Tao Zhu was shocked as she watched Lin Ting pile several cushions together.
She vaguely guessed her intentions—was she planning to pretend to be punished?
Lin Ting lay down right there, using the cushions as a pillow, and closed her eyes to rest.
“Wake me up in an hour. You can go back to rest—just have another maid take your place.”
Tao Zhu agreed and left, closing the door behind her.
An hour later, she returned and woke Lin Ting.
“Seventh Miss, time’s up.”
Lin Ting restored the cushions to their original positions, but her mind was preoccupied with one thing.
“Bring me a brush, ink, and paper. Be quiet—don’t alert anyone.”
“Understood.”
Tao Zhu was efficient and quickly brought her the materials, grinding the ink for her.
“It’s late at night—what do you wish to write?”
“You may leave.”
Clearly, she didn’t want her to see.
Tao Zhu picked up on the hint and carefully placed the ink stick down.
“Then I shall take my leave.”
Lin Ting watched her go.
The door shut.
Mission.
Failure.
Erasure.
Lin Ting repeated these words in her mind over and over.
Better to believe it than to ignore it.
A personality was precious, but life was worth even more.
Weighing the two, she made her choice.
After much deliberation, she picked up the brush and let the ink flow onto the paper.
***
Duan Ling spent the night interrogating the people captured from Nanshan Pavilion.
It was only after he left the imperial prison that he received a letter.
The envelope was blank, with no signature.
The Tiqi (Embroidered Guard messengers) reported that a beggar had delivered it, but the beggar himself had no idea who had given it to him.
The Northern Zhenfu Division occasionally received anonymous letters—some would contain accusations against court officials, sometimes with evidence attached.
It wasn’t unusual.
Duan Ling tore open the envelope and pulled out the paper inside.
The faint scent of fragrance lingered on the letter, and on it were only a few words:
“I like you.”