Her eyes swept swiftly around the room. Sure enough, she spotted two incense burners still burning. Without hesitation, she extinguished the incense inside.
By now, Bai Qingqing was also starting to feel unwell. She took the sachet from her waist and held it under her nose. This wasn’t the kind sold by Suiyun Pavilion, but one she had personally reformulated after witnessing Ning Yan fall victim to incense—more potent, more aggressive.
On the bed, Fu Yi seemed to be in great distress. His closed eyes trembled slightly, then slowly opened.
A flush of blood red clouded his gaze. When Bai Qingqing saw him looking at her, her heart tightened. Without stopping to think, she stepped forward and pressed the sachet directly to his face.
The room fell into a long, tense silence. Her arm began to ache from holding it up, and her heart pounded as if it might leap from her throat. Yet she dared not move, unable to guess what kind of state Fu Yi was in behind the sachet.
After a while, Fu Yi finally spoke, his voice hoarse and unlike usual. “Why… are you here?”
Bai Qingqing cautiously shifted her hand just enough to reveal his eyes. They still shimmered with an unnatural red, but at least his consciousness seemed intact.
“Hold the sachet yourself.”
She released her grip and stepped back a few paces, guarded and silent. “Kick the door open. Hurry!”
Fu Yi was confused, his body wracked with discomfort. But seeing the urgency in her furrowed brow, he asked no questions. He climbed out of bed and went to the door. It was still locked. Though weak and unwell, he gathered his strength and kicked hard several times. With a loud crack, the door burst open.
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He bent over, panting, as a breeze brushed past him—Bai Qingqing slipped by, quickly distancing herself from the courtyard.
What… exactly had happened?
Fu Yi’s mind was a chaotic mess, like a blaze scorching through his reason. But the cold, pungent scent of the sachet in his hand held it barely at bay.
He only remembered that his mother was hosting a banquet today, and had told him that if he felt tired, he could rest here—no one would disturb him…
Fu Yi forced himself to stay alert and chased in the direction Bai Qingqing had gone.
Bai Qingqing didn’t stop until she reached the lotus pond. Only then did she finally dare to pause, her heart pounding so loud it made her dizzy.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned swiftly, glaring daggers at Fu Yi. He had the nerve to follow her?
“Miss Bai, this whole thing—”
“What else is there to say? After what happened today, the Bai family will never let this go!”
Fu Yi stopped a few steps from her, his tone tense. “Miss Bai, there must be some misunderstanding—”
Bai Qingqing let out a cold laugh, all warmth gone from her once gentle eyes. “If I hadn’t had that sachet on me today… in a locked room, a man and a woman alone, with incense burning that stirs desire—what do you think would’ve happened?”
Just the thought made her shudder. Disgust flickered in her gaze. This was the man she had once loved so blindly, the one she had sworn she would marry.
Fu Yi’s hand clenched tightly around the sachet. The strange sensations in his body began to make sense in light of her words.
In truth, he hadn’t wanted to attend the banquet at all. But his mother had coaxed and pressured him into it, and once he arrived, she had told him to go rest.
The incense in that room… he’d long been used to it, thought nothing of it. But then he had drifted off, defenseless, into sleep.
Fu Yi wasn’t a fool. It took only a few moments to piece it all together.
This must have been his mother’s doing.