That afternoon, Xiao Hanjin was ambushed.
For the next three days, Di Ronghua didn’t see him at all.
On the fourth day at noon, Fan Jiang came to tell her that Xiao Hanjin was currently recuperating at the Crown Prince’s residence.
Di Ronghua thought it over, then decided to leave the palace for a visit.
The moment she pushed open the door, the room’s heavy medicinal scent flooded her senses, and she immediately spotted the pale man propped up in bed, his cold, mocking gaze a stark contrast to the hidden indulgence he’d shown her just days before.
Di Ronghua lowered her eyes slightly, walking slowly to sit by the bedside, “How are you?”
The man’s dark eyes fixed on her for a long while, then he let out a sudden laugh, “Is this your way of showing concern for me, Your Highness?”
Di Ronghua noticed the clear mockery in the curve of his lips, she fell silent for a moment, “Have you taken your medicine?”
He tugged at his lips, a layer of shadowy gloom, deep or shallow, pooling in his inky eyes, “I’m still alive, are you disappointed?”
Di Ronghua slowly raised her gaze, meeting his eyes, “I thought you had Fan Jiang tell me you were here because you wanted me to come see you.” She stood up, saying flatly, “If not, I’ll head back.”
Xiao Hanjin’s pupils contracted slightly.
Watching her turn away without hesitation, his heart felt as though something had gripped it out of nowhere, the pain of being shot with an arrow hadn’t hurt this much, nor had confirming his father was behind it felt this devastating.
Even… hearing that Di Ronghua had known about the assassination yet didn’t warn him hadn’t been this unbearable.
But now, it was as if all the numbed pain was returning twofold, even breathing became laborious.
He thought he’d long understood how much she despised him, he thought after she agreed to give him a year, they could at least enjoy a brief period of peace, but it turned out that wasn’t the case.
Her aversion to him ran far deeper than he’d imagined.
At least once, when he’d guided her hand to plunge a dagger into his chest, her eyes had been filled with panic and heartache.
Now, she could stand by unmoved, watching an assassination she’d known about in advance, unwilling to warn him, so perhaps she truly hoped he’d die, granting her freedom?
She’d even… taken this long to come see him.
“Ronghua.”
When his low voice sounded, the woman’s figure paused.
Xiao Hanjin looked at her back, still turned to him, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “Come here.”
She hesitated, then turned and walked to him.
The man’s deep, unwavering gaze locked onto her, “Stand closer, you’re too far, I can’t reach.”
“What, going to hit me to vent your anger?”
Her words had barely landed when the man abruptly sat up, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her entirely into his arms.
Her expression shifted, she instinctively raised her hand.
But Xiao Hanjin simply held her.
His handsome face pressed against her waist, his exact expression hidden, only his hoarse voice broke the silent air, “When Father said you knew about the assassination, I did think about beating you to let off steam. But when I woke up, I thought as long as the first person I saw was you, I’d pretend I knew nothing.”
Di Ronghua’s breath faltered, she closed her eyes.
“But it’s been four days.” The man’s faint laugh carried a dim, self-mocking tone, “If Fan Jiang hadn’t gone to you, you wouldn’t have thought to come see me, would you?”
“I didn’t know where you were.”
“You didn’t not know, you just didn’t care enough to ask.”
“…”
He murmured low and hoarse, “But never mind. Your Highness, if you hug me now, I’ll forgive you, hmm?”
