The next day, Shen Zhengyu didn’t come to bother her again. Quan Heng’s agitated heart finally settled slightly.
The maidservants still brought her food as usual, but she had no appetite at all when she looked at the dishes.
She finally forced herself to take a sip of porridge, but perhaps due to not eating for too long, she felt nauseous shortly after swallowing and ended up vomiting.
After that ordeal, she lost any desire to eat. She told the servants to leave the food aside and dismissed them all.
Ever since waking up yesterday, she had felt utterly weak. Now, glancing at the mirror by her bed, she saw her pale, drawn face, lips discolored and peeling, her whole appearance haggard and far from her former radiance.
A wave of despondency washed over her.
After placing the food on the table, Luyi left the room with the other maids, then took a winding path to the study and knocked on the door.
A moment later, a voice came from inside: “Come in.”
Upon entering, Luyi respectfully bowed and then spoke hesitantly, “Young Master, Miss still hasn’t eaten…”
Shen Zhengyu rotated the jade ring on his thumb, his tone flat and unreadable.
“She refuses to eat, or she can’t?”
Luyi recalled the events and answered cautiously, “It seemed like she couldn’t. She took a sip of porridge, but then felt unwell and threw it up. After that, she didn’t eat any more.”
She glanced up at him, checking his expression, then added carefully, “But I think, perhaps it’s because she’s in low spirits that she can’t eat…”
Shen Zhengyu nodded. “I understand. You may go. Keep watching over her for me.”
Luyi bowed again and left.
Once she was gone, Shen Zhengyu sighed deeply, then went into the inner room and opened a wardrobe filled with neatly arranged clothes.
His gaze settled on a black robe. He took it out and put it on.
If he remembered correctly, Wen Zheng also owned one just like it. Even if there were subtle differences, it would be enough to pass as him.
Next, he sat before a mirror, dabbed cinnabar beneath his right eye to create a red mole, then used a white jade hairpin to tie up his long hair.
Staring at his reflection, he found it absurd.
It was Wen Zheng who had stolen Heng’er from him. Yet now, he had to dress up as that very man to try and win her over.
He had to admit—they truly were twin brothers.
With just a few small alterations, he looked exactly like Wen Zheng. No one could tell the difference at a glance.
Born from the same root, yet due to fate’s mischief, they had become bitter enemies. Still, they looked so alike—it was almost a cruel joke.
He spent the entire afternoon in the study, quietly staring at himself in the mirror.
After nightfall, he finally stood and went to the kitchen.
He filled a basket with Quan Heng’s favorite dishes, sighed deeply, and made his way to her room, slowly pushing the door open.
Inside, only a single candle was lit, barely illuminating the room—just enough to make out vague outlines.
Shen Zhengyu entered and slowly approached Quan Heng. His voice was soft, almost coaxing: “Ah Heng, get up and have some food. Don’t starve yourself.”
Quan Heng, weak and limp, lifted her head at the sound. She spotted the red mole under his eye and froze.
At first, she thought she was hallucinating from illness. She sat up, rubbed her eyes—but the mole was still there.
She got out of bed and sat opposite him.
“Wen Zheng? How are you here? Did you come to rescue me?”
A pang of pain stabbed through Shen Zhengyu’s heart, but he forced himself to appear calm and said gently, “Yes. I’ve knocked Shen Zhengyu unconscious. The maids are all resting. This is the perfect time to escape.”
He took out the dishes from the basket and placed them before her. “But before we go, eat something first. Look at you—while I was gone, you’ve let yourself fall into this state.”
Quan Heng nodded, tears silently falling into the porridge. But she didn’t mind—she picked up the bowl and began eating in small bites.
Shen Zhengyu added a few slices of meat into her bowl. “You can’t just have porridge. Eat some meat too. You need the nutrition.”
Quan Heng nodded, eating as she cried. Before long, she had finished the bowl.
Then, she put the bowl down and looked at him expectantly. “I’ve eaten. When do we leave?”
Shen Zhengyu’s breath caught. “Let’s wait a bit. You just ate. We’ll rest a while, then go.”
Unexpectedly, Quan Heng smiled. “Shen Zhengyu, I know it’s you. You won’t let me go.”
Stunned, Shen Zhengyu raised his head. “How did you tell? I clearly…”
Quan Heng reached out and wiped off the cinnabar from under his eye, smiling faintly. “Others might not tell the difference, but to me, the two of you are nothing alike.”
“I know you just wanted me to eat more, and so you resorted to this trick. But it’s precisely because of this that I suddenly understood something.”
She pulled back her hand and said calmly, “I do need to treasure my body. Only by doing that can I endure long enough—to wait until he comes to rescue me.”
Hearing this, Shen Zhengyu’s fists clenched tight, then slammed hard onto the table with a loud bang.
“You—!”
Quan Heng closed her eyes. “If you want to kill me, go ahead. I’ll sit right here and let you do as you please.”
At that moment, Shen Zhengyu stood up abruptly, his emotions spiraling out of control. He pointed at her and shouted, “Quan Heng, open your eyes and look clearly at the situation. You’re in my hands now! I will never let go, never let Wen Zheng near you again!”
Quan Heng opened her eyes. “I know. But it’s fine. I can wait. One month, two months, three months, half a year, even five or ten years—I can wait.”
Seeing her stubborn expression, Shen Zhengyu was finally struck dumb.
He suddenly felt suffocated. Though the windows and doors were wide open, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t stay here another second.
“Fine! If you want to wait till death, then wait! I’ll see which of us can outlast the other!”
With that, he stormed out, never once looking back.
Only after he left did Quan Heng finally let her tears fall freely.
In truth, she admitted to herself—just now, she really did see Wen Zheng in Shen Zhengyu’s face.
She really missed him.
***
After Quan Heng’s “death”, Wen Zheng and his men returned to the capital, but he didn’t go back to the Eastern Palace. Instead, he hid in a remote, modest residence—for a whole month.
Even though time had passed, every time he thought of Ah Heng’s face, the pain pierced him to the bone.
These days, he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her lying in his arms, covered in blood.
The agony was unbearable.
That afternoon, General Zhenbei arranged another secret meeting, but just as Wen Zheng stepped outside, he saw a little beggar in the street.
That child seemed to have angered some other beggars in the area. They had pinned her to the ground and were raining punches and kicks on her, cursing as they did.
“Where did this little wretch come from, daring to take over our turf? Tired of living, are you?!”
As soon as those words were spoken, their blows intensified. The person on the ground curled up, crying out in pain, looking utterly pitiful.
Suddenly, Wen Zheng felt that this little beggar looked very familiar. But her whole body was filthy, and it was hard to make out her features.
By rights, Wen Zheng was supposed to be hurrying to meet General Zhenbei. But the moment he saw this little beggar, he couldn’t move a step.
He didn’t know why, but he had the strong feeling that if he didn’t save her today, he would regret it one day.
Wen Zheng sighed and slightly lifted his hand. The guards beside him immediately understood and stepped forward to drive the group of beggars away.
Seeing the guard’s fierce expression, they didn’t dare linger—didn’t even think of resisting—fleeing in a panic.
Then, one of the guards grabbed the little beggar and tossed her in front of Wen Zheng. “Your Highness, do you know this person? Why did you want to save her?”
At that moment, when the little beggar heard the words “Your Highness,” her eyes suddenly lit up.
She abruptly looked up. When she saw that it was truly Wen Zheng, it was as if she had grabbed onto a lifeline. She clutched the hem of his robe and cried out in excitement, “Your Highness the Crown Prince, it’s really you?!”
Wen Zheng looked down, and the moment he saw her face, he was struck with shock: “Ziyun? It’s really you—you didn’t die?”
Ziyun nodded fervently. “I didn’t die! I even saw Miss! She’s been imprisoned by Shen Zhengyu—please, I beg you, save her!”
At those words, Wen Zheng was overwhelmed with joy, which was quickly replaced by disbelief: “Ah Heng… is still alive?”
“But I saw her stop breathing in my arms with my own eyes. I was the one who buried her…”
Ziyun had escaped in such a hurry, she hadn’t had time to say much to Quan Heng. She didn’t know what had happened between them. All she knew was that her mistress was in danger and needed to be saved.
“I don’t know either. But I’m sure the lady I saw was her—undeniably her. Half a month ago, she let me out of the firewood shed in Shen Zhengyu’s private residence…”
As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. “She said she’d follow right after me, but I’ve heard nothing since. I think she’s still imprisoned there—she didn’t get away…”
Upon hearing that, Wen Zheng was deeply shaken. He turned to the guards. “Prepare the horses. I’m going to her grave. I’ll dig it up and see for myself!”
If Ziyun was telling the truth, then Ah Heng had likely faked her death.
Shen Zhengyu must have tricked her into using that method to escape.
But Ah Heng was too pure-hearted and couldn’t see Shen Zhengyu’s true face. That’s how he had taken advantage of her and imprisoned her.
At that thought, Wen Zheng was filled with boundless hatred.
Ah Heng had been so fierce, so brave and proud. She had chosen death as a means to seek freedom. And yet Shen Zhengyu dared to lock her up again.
He couldn’t bear to imagine—if all this was true—just how hopeless she must feel now.
