Seeing Xie Yi, Lin Zhiji’s heart gave a sudden jolt.
When had Xie Yi arrived?
Had he heard the conversation with 03 just now?
Good thing 03 was cautious and disconnected in time.
Come to think of it, last time 03 contacted him, it also disappeared the moment Xie Yi woke up.
So it should not have been exposed.
Lin Zhiji quietly breathed a sigh of relief, while pretending to be surprised: “Why are you here? Did you finish talking with Prince Qi?”
Xie Yi’s gaze landed on him.
It swept over him with scrutiny, making the hairs on Lin Zhiji’s back stand up.
But he knew he couldn’t show guilt now, so he forced himself to remain calm.
Xie Yi slightly raised a brow, the corner of his lips lifting into a faint, emotionless curve.
“Song Lü.”
Song Lü immediately knelt: “This subordinate is guilty.”
Xie Yi said slowly, “I don’t need subordinates who act on their own decisions.”
Song Lü’s face instantly turned pale. He drew his blade and actually tried to cut off his own arm.
Lin Zhiji’s temple twitched.
This man really had a problem—always going straight to chopping off limbs.
He quickly stopped Song Lü: “Stop!”
Song Lü didn’t dare struggle, fearing he might hurt him.
Lin Zhiji looked up at Xie Yi and tried to explain: “I forced Song Lü to come out. It’s my fault. It has nothing to do with him.”
Xie Yi said flatly, “Do you think you can escape responsibility?”
Lin Zhiji: “…”
Xie Yi: “Song Lü—”
Before he could finish, Lin Zhiji, in desperation, rushed forward and covered his mouth.
Unexpectedly, Xie Yi did not dodge this time.
The warmth of his palm brushed against Xie Yi’s lips, soft breath slipping across his skin.
A faint, clean scent lingered between them.
Lin Zhiji reacted a beat too slowly.
Only when Xie Yi’s canine tooth lightly brushed against the base of his finger did he panic and pull his hand back.
Warm breath still lingered on his palm, making his fingers tremble slightly.
Xie Yi watched him, eyes darkening, silent for a moment.
Lin Zhiji finally regained his breath and quickly asked, “Then… Song Lü doesn’t have to lose his arm, right?”
But Song Lü already knew the answer.
In the end, Xie Yi would not change his decision.
He had always been decisive and merciless.
Yet Xie Yi said coldly, “Since you insist on taking responsibility, then I’ll spare his arm.”
Song Lü: “!!!”
Lin Zhiji also relaxed slightly.
But Xie Yi’s gaze turned to Song Lü again: “Your arm is spared, but punishment cannot be avoided. Leave one finger.”
Song Lü exhaled.
From an arm to a finger—it was already much lighter.
But Lin Zhiji suddenly blurted out, “No!”
Song Lü hurriedly tried to stop him: “Young Master Lin, you don’t need to plead for me. It’s only a finger…”
But Lin Zhiji’s mind was burning with urgency. He stepped forward and held out his hand: “If someone has to lose something… take mine instead.”
Xie Yi’s eyes turned icy, yet instead of anger, he smiled.
“You think I won’t touch you?”
Lin Zhiji bit his lip: “I take responsibility. Don’t involve innocent people.”
The smile vanished from Xie Yi’s face completely.
Even though it was early summer, the air felt frozen.
Song Lü trembled on the ground.
But instead of erupting in rage, Xie Yi turned and walked away.
Lin Zhiji froze, then hurriedly chased after him.
—
Back at the carriage, the atmosphere was suffocating.
Lin Zhiji tried several times to speak, but each time Xie Yi’s cold gaze shut him down.
Only when they returned to the manor did Xie Yi enter Qingping Courtyard without waiting for him.
Lin Zhiji, out of breath, followed, only to see his sleeve disappear into the study.
He hesitated, then forced himself inside.
Qing Li immediately sensed something was wrong.
When Song Lü returned with heavy steps, she grabbed him: “What happened today?”
After hearing the full story, Qing Li fell silent.
Song Lü panicked: “Do you think Young Master Lin will be—”
“Nonsense.” Qing Li smacked his head. “Even if you die, nothing will happen to Young Master Lin.”
Song Lü relaxed slightly: “Oh.” Then hesitated, “Then… will my finger still be saved?”
Qing Li gave a cold laugh: “Dream on. If that finger is spared, then someone else will be taking over Qingping Courtyard.”
—
Xie Yi sat on the couch, idly playing with a thin blade between his fingers.
Cold steel reflected eyes even colder than the blade itself.
Lin Zhiji swallowed, then cautiously walked over.
“Host…”
Before he could finish, Xie Yi grabbed his wrist and flipped him down onto the couch.
He pinned him beneath him in an instant.
Lin Zhiji’s breath hitched as he struggled—but it was useless against Xie Yi’s iron-like grip.
His weak resistance only made Xie Yi press closer.
Their distance shrank until there was none left.
Black hair spilled down, mingling with Lin Zhiji’s on the couch.
Even their breathing seemed tangled together.
Lin Zhiji froze completely.
Xie Yi seemed satisfied and pressed the blade against Lin Zhiji’s left hand, speaking slowly, almost casually:
“You said you’d take the punishment for Song Lü. Have you thought it through?”
Cold steel skimmed his skin, raising goosebumps along his arm.
He instinctively tried to pull back, but Xie Yi held him down.
“Don’t move. The blade is sharp.”
Warm fingers pressed into his palm, sliding slowly toward his little finger.
“This finger is the weakest, most useless one,” Xie Yi said lazily. “You barely use it anyway.”
The blade hovered at its base.
“Let’s take this one, then.”
Lin Zhiji shook his head frantically in panic.
Xie Yi gave a low chuckle. “Though it’s useless, you’d miss it for playing zithers or instruments.”
His fingers shifted to the middle finger, now tracing even more deliberately.
Rough fingertips pressed over jade-like joints, the pressure turning the knuckles faintly red.
Xie Yi pinched each of Lin Zhiji’s fingers one by one, carefully explaining the function of each finger before asking whether he wanted to cut that one off.
The more Lin Zhiji listened, the more frightened he became.
His fingertips already hurt from Xie Yi’s grip, and the thin blade that kept appearing and disappearing in Xie Yi’s palm kept threatening him. Both mentally and physically, he was close to breaking.
It had been a moment of impulse when he said he would take Song Lü’s punishment.
Now that the impulse had faded, fear slowly rose up.
This was not like the electric shocks he once suffered inside Xie Yi’s mind.
That pain ended once it passed—but losing a finger would be real.
The more he thought about it, the more scared he became. He tried hard to suppress it, but his eyes still turned red, his nose stung, and tears rolled down instantly.
Xie Yi froze.
This was the second time he had seen Lin Zhiji cry, but it was different from the last time when he had cried while choking out complaints.
This time there was no sound at all—only tears pouring out like a spring, big drops rolling down his cheeks and into the tangled strands of their hair.
His skin was so fair that within moments, the corners of his eyes and the tip of his nose turned red, as if he would break with a touch.
Even while shaking from crying, he didn’t beg for mercy.
Xie Yi released him.
Lin Zhiji immediately curled his hand under his body, still trembling.
Xie Yi reached out, trying to brush away the damp strands stuck to his face, but Lin Zhiji flinched in fear.
Xie Yi let out a helpless sigh.
He had truly lost his composure today—knowing he was timid and afraid of blood, yet still frightening him like this.
“I won’t cut your fingers. Stop crying,” he said hoarsely, then added after a pause, “Neither will I cut Song Lü’s.”
Lin Zhiji’s wet eyelashes trembled at those words.
Xie Yi straightened up and turned to leave.
Song Lü immediately dropped to his knees outside: “My lord.”
Xie Yi glanced at him and said coldly, “Ten strokes of the board. Let this be the last time.”
Song Lü: “?!”
Qing Li: “!!”