When the two characters "Mingyi" appeared.

Jiang Yue was stunned for a while. Her gaze towards Zhou Ji slowly became wary. She had never mentioned this name to Zhou Ji before.

Even when he was arrogant and domineering, all he ever did was address her as "Your Highness."

Almost no one in the world knows her name except herself.

Jiang Yue stared straight at him, her eyes filled with an air of supreme nobility and aloofness: "What did you say?"

Zhou Ji could sense that when she heard this name, she was like a lazy kitten basking in the sun, whose fur instantly bristled.

His eyes were like a deep, calm lake, still and distant, so deep that almost nothing could be seen.

The man's thin lips moved slightly as he slowly uttered, "Mingyi."

Jiang Yue remained silent for a long time. It turned out she hadn't misheard; he had indeed called Ming Yi. How did he know? Had he already seen through her identity?

Or perhaps the male protagonist's cheat ability caused him to awaken something he shouldn't have.

Jiang Yue didn't know what Zhou Ji meant. Was he going to expose her? Or was he warning her? What exactly was his intention? Didn't he find it terrifying?

Even the soul inside the body has been replaced.

Isn't he afraid that she'll turn into a ghost and crawl out to take revenge on him?

Okay, none of that matters.

The important question is how he found out her title.

Jiang Yue took a deep breath and decided to play dumb. She tightened her small face, pursed her lips and said, "You are not allowed to call me those two words either."

Zhou Ji was indeed testing him.

She was so beautiful that her expression changed almost the instant she heard what he said.

How did Zhou Ji learn this name? Was it from those dreams that tormented him and kept him awake at night, where he was occasionally pulled into another world in his dreams?

The sky was pitch black.

The heavy, oppressive eaves of the palace.

And then there was the rustling snow that swept over us.

In the bright sunshine reflecting off the snow in winter, men are often in poor health, coughing frequently, with pale faces, and the house filled with a strong, bitter smell of medicine.

He always had a blank expression, and you couldn't tell any emotion from him.

She seemed like a jade statue devoid of joy, anger, sorrow, or happiness.

In his indifferent eyes, the mundane world meant nothing.

In the stillness of the night, only the sound of the wind could be heard.

The mansion was heavily guarded, and even when assassins came to kill him in the dead of night, they all disappeared without a trace. The assassins left no marks or objects that could identify them.

It seems they had prepared a comprehensive plan in advance.

Whether you succeed or fail, there's always a way out.

However, the man didn't seem surprised or in a hurry at all.

It seems they already knew who did it.

He didn't take it seriously; the tricks used by that favored princess in the palace were nothing in his eyes.

Her methods were straightforward but quite naive.

He indulged the royal family, allowing them to take advantage of his position.

If you can still endure it, then it's fine.

Until that day, a rare sunny day after the snow, the man, who had just recovered from his illness, stood under the corridor wearing a long robe. The cold wind ruffled the man's long, black hair, and his face was even paler than the snow.

His heavily lowered brows and eyes exuded a compelling sense of authority even when he didn't utter a single word.

He held a handkerchief in his hand, embroidered with blooming red plum blossoms. The handkerchief looked very well preserved, almost like new. He held it carefully, his eyes lowered, gazing quietly at the pattern on the handkerchief for a long time.

Perhaps it was because he was thinking of the difficult time he spent in Yanzhou.

The proud and aloof girl looked at the blood on his face with some disdain. Sitting on her horse, she looked down at him and casually tossed him her handkerchief: "Wipe the blood off your face."

He took it in a daze, his fingertips touching the soft silk, as if he could smell the faint fragrance.

The tips of my ears quietly warmed up and gradually turned red.

He curled his fingers and gripped the delicate handkerchief tightly.

It was as if he wasn't holding a handkerchief tightly, but rather he was invisibly grasping her hand, slowly holding it in his palm, and seizing the bright and radiant light that belonged only to him.

Finally, this handkerchief.

He secretly kept it.

She didn't ask him for it; to her, it was just a worthless and insignificant thing she had given away casually. But he greedily and despicably hid it away for himself, carefully keeping it for many years.

A cold wind howled, the chill biting to the bone. The man coughed softly a few times, his throat slightly sore.

He casually wiped the blood from the corner of his lips with a handkerchief, his face expressionless.

The medicine had already been brewed in the kitchen, and the strong herbal smell was so strong that it almost made the tip of one's nose taste bitter.

The maidservant lowered her head and carefully brought the medicine to the master. Even though the man in front of her was as handsome as an immortal, she dared not look at him for more than a second.

The man picked up the bowl of medicine, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp. He swallowed the bitter medicine expressionlessly, then put the bowl back and said coldly:

"Go down."

"yes."

The man spoke very little, and the mansion remained quiet year after year.

The maidservant carried the medicine out, and only after she had gone far away did she quietly breathe a sigh of relief, and quickly expressed her gratitude to the sister who had accompanied her to deliver the medicine.

"Sister Ling, it's good that you're with me. I was so scared that I couldn't even breathe."

"The master has a cold face, but he is not the type to beat or scold his servants at will. However, just now..." The maid named Sister Ling slowly frowned and couldn't help but say, "The handkerchief in the master's hand looks very familiar. I must have seen it before."

And it left a deep impression.

That's why you can tell something's wrong at a glance.

In a flash, the girl suddenly remembered that the bottom of the handkerchief was decorated with double-sided embroidery of flower petals—that was—

Princess Mingyi's favorite!

She used to be a maid in the Empress's palace, doing odd jobs, but she would occasionally run into Princess Mingyi.

The princess is exceptionally beautiful and always comes to the Empress's bedchamber; she seems like a spoiled brat who loves to act cute.

Very likable.

The other maids in the palace secretly envied those who served in the princess's palace, as they not only received frequent rewards but were also not mistreated by their masters.

Lianyu looked puzzled and muttered to herself, "How come the master has Princess Mingyi's handkerchief?"

Everyone knows that the officials in the palace don't like the Regent very much, but they can't do anything about him.

For the past six months or so, assassins have frequently set ambushes to carry out assassinations.

Everyone, from top to bottom, knows perfectly well who did it.

Lianyu couldn't believe that these two could have any connection, and they were at odds with each other both outwardly and inwardly.

Lianyu carefully recalled the handkerchief she had just seen. She was certain that she hadn't mistaken it for something else; it was the handkerchief that only Princess Mingyi would own.

As soon as she finished speaking, she felt a chill run down her back, like needles pricking her bones, which was really hard to bear.

She subconsciously turned around and glanced at him, her eyes widening. She immediately knelt down, saying, "My lord."

The man's face was even paler than the snowy weather, and his hoarse voice pressed down heavily: "Who were you talking about just now?"