Chapter 54: Telling One’s True Feelings to Another 

Xie Lingwan hurried to the pavilion, her pale hands clutching a bucket of melted snow, heart racing with fear that her carefully nurtured “cabbage” might be snatched and devoured by an outsider cat.

Calling maids to collect snow would’ve been faster, but how could she explain? Admit she, as an aunt, lusted for her nephew, plotting to consummate their bond?

If word spread, her reputation’s ruin was minor compared to disgracing Gusu Xie’s honor. Xiao Yao’s spirit would never forgive such depravity.

She’d face two paths: shave her head as a nun or throw herself into a well.

But leaving Yanqing so abruptly—how could she bear it?

Pushing open the half-closed door, Xie saw Ji Yanqing and Ji Qingyan, hands interlocked, channeling spiritual energy into her. The heroine, head bowed, seemed unconscious.

Seeing them fully clothed, Xie exhaled, her heart settling. The pose was intimate but within her tolerance—better than scandalous acts like “old man moving the cart” or “lotus goddess pose.”

“Yanqing, is Heroine Ji’s condition serious?” Xie asked, stepping to Ji Yanqing’s side, gently wiping sweat from his brow, her voice like a nightingale’s.

After expelling the last of the aphrodisiac from Ji Qingyan, Ji Yanqing steadied his spiritual energy, saying, “Heroine Ji’s will and resilience surpass ordinary girls. She forced out most of the Bewitching Powder with her own energy. Transformation Realm experts are truly formidable!”

His words weren’t entirely truthful—more like wholly fabricated.

Ji Qingyan had “expelled” most of the powder through her own “pathways,” but the rest was fiction.

Ji Yanqing had been gentle, merely grazing, and Ji Qingyan cooperated, making detoxification unusually smooth.

He’d even cleaned the scene, masking odors with incense powder.

Luckily, Xie’s focus was on him, oblivious to details.

Hearing this, Xie felt unexpected admiration for the unconscious beauty. If she were poisoned with Yanqing beside her, she doubted she’d resist temptation.

“Does she still need snow water to ease the poison?” Xie asked, blinking her fox-like eyes.

“No need. I’ve forced out the remaining traces with spiritual energy. A hot water bath and rest, and she’ll be fine by morning.”

“I’ll fetch maids then,” Xie said, turning to leave the embarrassing pavilion. But Ji Yanqing grabbed her hand.

“Auntie, you’re not escaping, are you?” he asked with a chuckle, his sharp brows raised.

“No… I’m worried for Heroine Ji,” Xie said softly, her face flushing, radiant and stunning.

“Care to explain the jug spiked with liquor and Bewitching Powder?” Ji Yanqing pulled the graceful beauty into his arms, pointing at the jug.

“You already know… why tease me?” Xie couldn’t meet his peach-blossom eyes, lips pursed. Drugging her nephew’s wine was too immoral to admit.

“Couldn’t wait even a moment, Auntie?” he asked softly.

She shook her head, body tense. “It’s not that… I was afraid bad women would deceive you,” she whispered, her excuse flimsy even to herself.

“Oh, and drugging my wine doesn’t make you a bad woman?” he asked, feigning sternness, his hand playfully patting her soft curves.

“Lecher…” Xie muttered, glancing at him resentfully.

After a pause, she tiptoed, their lips meeting—soft, cool, and comforting.

“Do you like a bad woman like me, Yanqing?” she asked seductively, her fox-like eyes captivating.

Gazing at the sensual beauty, her mature charm, alluring eyes, snowy skin, and creamy complexion, Ji Yanqing was still struck by her beauty despite years together.

“I like… very much,” he replied softly, holding her tighter.

Though called aunt and nephew, they shared no blood, their bond more like a charming older sister and a handsome youth.

Their “aunt-nephew” label was just a cover for their hidden love.

Time slipped to midnight.

Vibrant fireworks lit half the sky, dazzling and bright.

“Happy New Year, Auntie.”

“Don’t call me that when we’re alone. Can you call me Lingwan?” Xie tucked stray hair, head lowered, her voice soft.

She exuded a girlish shyness mixed with a mature woman’s allure, stirring Ji Yanqing’s heart.

“Lingwan…”

“Mmm.”

Xie’s soft hum reflected the fireworks and his silhouette in her fox-like eyes.

Thus, Hongde Year Three ended.

…

After handling the mess, Ji Yanqing dragged his exhausted body to his chambers. Detoxifying Ji Qingyan had drained his spiritual energy dry.

Collapsing onto silk bedding, he closed his eyes, sinking into sleep. For him, Hongde Year Four might not start well.

Past midnight, Ye City quieted, fireworks replaced by cold crow calls, the night desolate.

His chambers were stiflingly silent, a pin’s drop audible.

At the edge of shadow and moonlight, a graceful figure emerged, her pale hand gripping a dagger gleaming with deadly intent.

As the blade neared his throat, the assassin hesitated. In that instant, Ji Yanqing’s hand held a pitch-black sword.

Swish—

The blade sliced the assassin’s black veil, revealing a breathtaking face.

It was Ji Qingyan, come to slay the shameless Heir.