Feeling relaxed, Zi Xi pushed open the wooden door to her residence, the coolness of the night dew still lingering on her fingertips.
As soon as she stepped across the threshold, her whole body tensed up. There was someone in her house, still drinking heavily, and the smell of alcohol was almost permeating the entire house.
On her bed, Yin Jiuxiao leaned back, his black robe wide open, revealing his chest muscles, loosely draped over his body, his slender fingers holding a wine jug and scattering it around him.
The candlelight illuminated his cold, handsome profile, outlining its sharp contours.
"His Majesty?"
Although she didn't understand what he was going to do, Zi Xi immediately knelt down on one knee to pay her respects.
Yin Jiuxiao raised his eyes, his dark eyes revealing no emotion, and lazily said, "I thought... you would wait until the house was on fire before you came back."
"In the dead of night, my bodyguards are not in their rooms. Where have they gone?"
Zi Xi's fingertips tightened slightly. This lunatic! No wonder he spilled so much wine!
They were so vicious as to want to burn down her house!
"Your subordinate... went to inquire about the fate of the assassins."
The wine pot paused between Yin Jiuxiao's fingers, then he smashed it to the ground with a thud. It landed on the wooden floor in front of Zi Xi, just an inch from her head.
What is your relationship with them?
His voice was deep and carried a dangerous, oppressive quality.
Zi Xi didn't dodge, and said calmly, "Your Majesty, it's alright."
"Oh? It's not related? Then why do you care about the assassin's life or death?"
Yin Jiuxiao sneered, got up from the bed, walked slowly to her, and looked down at the back of her head.
"Your Majesty, I only happened to see Minister Su's daughter on the street and knew that she was Minister Su's daughter."
Zi Xi pursed her lips and whispered.
Yin Jiuxiao narrowed his eyes: "So?"
"Minister Su is a veteran of three reigns, loyal to the emperor and the country throughout his life. If his daughter dies at your hands, what will the world say?!"
"Your Majesty is wise and mighty, but you bear too much infamy. I do not want you to be criticized for being bloodthirsty!"
Zi Xi spoke clearly, her words sounding like a career-driven fan expressing their frustration with their idol's lack of ambition.
Yin Jiuxiao's fingertips paused slightly.
He stared at the back of Zi Xi's head, his eyes filled with an inscrutable emotion.
After a long pause, he suddenly sneered, "Who do you think you are? Do you have the right to care about my reputation?"
"Of course I know I am not qualified, but I just feel that Your Majesty should not dirty your hands for such a person!"
Zi Xi lowered her eyes, silently hypnotizing herself: she was just a sycophant striving for peace in the world, and she would keep licking the boots until the ruler of the world unified the country and governed diligently and loved the people!
Yin Jiuxiao raised his eyebrows slightly, his mood inexplicably improved, and the corners of his mouth almost couldn't help but turn up.
"I don't care what the people of the world think."
He turned and walked back to the bedside, lying lazily on his side, his tone still aloof.
"Your Majesty has been suffering from headaches lately. This is a calming incense that I made myself, which will help relieve Your Majesty's symptoms."
Zi Xi didn't reply, but instead moved closer to the bedside, lowered her head, took out a small yellow sachet from her sleeve, and presented it with both hands.
Yin Jiuxiao stared at the sachet but didn't take it.
Zi Xi wasn't afraid at all. She was the strongest fighter in the world and wasn't worried about making things difficult for her boss.
After a long pause, Yin Jiuxiao finally reached out and grabbed the sachet, his tone cold and hard with a hint of arrogance: "Meddlesome... This sachet is so ugly, embroider it nicer next time before presenting it to me."
Zi Xi, head bowed, curved her lips into a barely perceptible smile.
She stroked the donkey's fur, holding it firmly in her hand.
Yin Jiuxiao held the sachet, her fingertips tracing the rough embroidery on it. The stitches were crooked and uneven, clearly indicating that she had sewn it herself.
"Are the Imperial Medical Academy doctors dead? I don't need a lowly assassin like you to worry about my illness."
He snorted coldly, casually stuffing the item into his sleeve, his tone still arrogant:
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