The Princess's Residence.

"Shen Jintang!"

Gu Zhixing suddenly sat up from the bed. The movement was too sudden, which aggravated the arrow wound in his chest. A wave of intense pain surged through him instantly, making his vision go black.

Cold sweat slid down his tense jaw and dripped onto the brocade quilt, but he didn't bother to wipe it away. He threw off the quilt and was about to get out of bed.

"Boss!"

Hurried footsteps came from outside the screen. Ye Qingzhou rushed in, grabbed his shoulder, and said anxiously, "You dare to move around when the wound has just scabbed over? The doctor said that if it reopens, it will become infected! Don't you care about your life?"

Gu Zhixing seemed not to hear him, and flung his hand away, his voice frighteningly hoarse: "Where is Shen Jintang?"

Dusk fell outside the window, and the candle wick in the brass lampstand popped and flickered, casting a faint light that danced in the room and illuminated Gu Zhixing's anxious face.

Ye Qingzhou's gaze drifted to the carved door, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he were lost in some unpleasant memory. He stammered, "That... Miss Shen, she..."

"I'm asking you where you are!"

Gu Zhixing's voice suddenly rose, and the bedpost creaked as he gripped it tightly, as if it were about to break at any moment.

The white cloth on his chest was already stained with light red, and fresh blood was slowly seeping out, but he was completely unaware of it, his heart and eyes filled with worry for Shen Jintang.

Just as Ye Qingzhou was about to speak, he suddenly heard the beaded curtain rustle, and a medicinal fragrance mixed with the crisp scent of the first snow drifted into the inner room.

Gu Zhixing's gaze was instantly drawn to her. He saw Shen Jintang standing in front of the moon gate, holding a celadon medicine cup. Her white skirt swept across the threshold in the setting sun, and the outline of bandages could be vaguely seen where the apricot-colored palace sash at her waist hung down.

Her expression was calm as still water. Her gaze swept over Gu Zhixing's blood-soaked bandages, and her brows furrowed slightly: "Xing Hui's calculations were quite accurate. She said you should wake up at this time."

Gu Zhixing's pupils suddenly contracted, as if they were being gripped tightly by something.

He remembered that his last consciousness was at the edge of the cliff, where Shen Jintang had stabbed herself, and blood was flowing from between her fingers, which she couldn't stop no matter how hard she tried.

He carried her down the mountain, intending to take her to find a doctor, but on the way, they encountered an ambush.

The assassins surged out from all directions, their blades flashing and killing intent palpable.

He wanted to protect Shen Jintang, but somehow, he suddenly lost consciousness.

But he couldn't remember how he lost consciousness.

ambush?

Yes, they were clearly ambushed, so how did he get back?

Where are those assassins?

Could it be that someone came to our aid?

But why does he have no recollection of these things?

Gu Zhixing pounded his head hard, trying to awaken those dormant memories, but his head was throbbing with pain, as if countless needles were pricking his nerves, and he couldn't remember anything.

What exactly happened?

Why would someone hit themselves for no reason?

Shen Jintang gently scolded him as she stepped forward and placed the medicine in her hand on the table beside her.

Of course she knew what was wrong with Gu Zhixing.

She personally had Xing Hui administer the medicine so that Gu Zhixing wouldn't remember anything. How could she not know his current condition?

However, she will never say it.

"Do you have a headache?"

Shen Jintang frowned slightly, her eyes filled with concern, and reached out to touch Gu Zhixing's forehead.

Her fingertips gently touched his hairline, soft and cool, as if carrying a hint of early spring chill, trying to sense from his forehead whether he had a fever.

After confirming that Gu Zhixing was alright, she turned around and picked up the medicine that had been placed to the side, intending to let him drink the medicine and rest well.

"Here, drink your medicine."

The steam from the herbal medicine rose gently from her fingertips, carrying a faint, bitter aroma.

Gu Zhixing froze instantly, glancing up at Shen Jintang, somewhat unaccustomed to her gentleness.

Then, his gaze fell on Shen Jintang's wrist, which was exposed outside her wide sleeves. Her wrist was so pale that it was almost transparent, as if it would break if she were to grasp it lightly.

His heart tightened, his throat felt constricted, and his voice became hoarse and low: "You..." The veins on the back of his hand, which was bracing itself on the edge of the bed, bulged, and his nails dug deeply into the wooden frame. "Your injuries haven't healed yet, why are you wandering around like this?"

Shen Jintang placed the medicine bowl on the table, and the bottom of the porcelain bowl made a crisp sound, as if in response to his question.

She raised an eyebrow slightly, her tone tinged with a hint of teasing: "Unlike His Highness, who, after being unconscious for three days, is already tearing the house down."

Ye Qingzhou silently shrank behind the antique shelf, as if he were invisible.

His eyes darted around nervously, afraid of being accidentally hurt by the two men.

He originally thought Shen Jintang was a parasitic plant that relied on Gu Zhixing to grow, but after what happened last night, he had nightmares for three days in a row.

Especially when he was by Gu Zhixing's side, he could see Shen Jintang all the time, which made him afraid to close his eyes.

This woman is terrifying.

"Do you want to drink your medicine?" Shen Jintang stirred the herbal soup in her hand, and when she felt that the temperature was about right, she raised her hand and handed it to Gu Zhixing.

The rising steam from the medicinal soup filled the space between the two of them, carrying a bitter taste.

However, Gu Zhixing just stared at her without moving.

Shen Jintang frowned, her tone somewhat impatient: "Fine, don't drink then."

Having said that, he was about to put the medicine aside.

At that very moment, amidst the rising steam of the medicinal soup, Gu Zhixing suddenly reached out a hand and tightly grasped Shen Jintang's wrist as she was about to pull it back.

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