Qingge had been gentle and amiable with others since childhood.

"If I were to say... that Mo Qingge was the one who harmed me, would you believe it?" Gu Fei's voice, soft and sweet as syrup, whispered at Yue Qingbo's ear. He stared at her, stunned, unable to comprehend for a long moment what she meant by those words.

Seeing Yue Qingbo's expression, Gu Fei's lips curved deeper, the self-mockery thickening within her.

"Fei, don't utter such nonsense!" Yue Qingbo admonished seriously, perhaps worried that Gu Fei had been incited by wicked people. He continued, "Qingge is your elder sister. Though you aren't born of the main branch, you are still a Mo by blood. Qingge has always been gentle and kind since childhood. She is the esteemed eldest daughter of the Mo family. How could she ever harm you?"

"Fei, you're young and pure-hearted, and you haven't met many people. Don't let outsiders' idle gossip mislead you."

Gu Fei could not resist any longer. She tilted her head, her almond-shaped eyes bending into a smile, but the laughter was tinged with sadness—like the wail of a wounded cuckoo, aching but never reaching her eyes, instead freezing into shards of ice that pierced Yue Qingbo and herself.

See, this is Yue Qingbo, so clear in love and hate!

In his eyes, there was only right and wrong. The Da Yin's famed beauty, Mo Qingge, whom he knew, was naturally virtuous and graceful, a woman of both intelligence and beauty. And what about Gu Fei? She was someone adopted back into the main family for her talent, granted luxurious clothes and food, treated kindly by siblings and elders, yet in the end, not only was she ungrateful, but she repaid kindness with venom, incited to bite the hand that fed her.

In this moment, resentment thick as blood surged uncontrollably from her heart.

It was not about reason, but pure indignation.

Why was it that he so firmly believed Mo Qingge to be a perfect person, while she was always seen as a liar, a slanderer?

She was the one who grew up with him, the one who shared tender feelings with him, the one he promised to protect...

Yet, no matter how many virtues she possessed, they could not compare to a single flaw of Mo Qingge.

No, perhaps in Yue Qingbo's eyes, Mo Qingge had no flaws. She was beautiful, intelligent, gentle, and kind. Skilled in many arts, she inherited the Mo family's genius for ink-making—so perfect she could rival the celestial maidens.

Thus, she could not utter a single word against her.

In an instant, the small ripples of joy rising from their reunion, before they could spread through her heart, were frozen into eternal ice.

"Fei, stop laughing!" Yue Qingbo's voice dropped, his brow furrowed, already displeased.

He always felt that something was different about the woman before him, but could not quite pinpoint it. A subtle estrangement fermented between them.

Gu Fei indeed fell silent. She sat upright, unconsciously moving a little further from Yue Qingbo, lowering her gaze to her fingers, and behind the shadow of her lashes, sarcasm flickered in her eyes. "Let's not speak of those things. It's been a long time since I thought of them—it's never good. Thinking too much is useless."

Seeing Gu Fei let go, Yue Qingbo relaxed, his gaze sliding unobtrusively over Gu Fei's legs. He reached out and took her hands. "Fei, I'm glad you think that way."

Gu Fei smiled gently, and when she looked up again, she had swiftly gathered herself, her jade-pale face serene and lightly smiling. "Qingbo, how long will you stay in Yizhou this time?"

Yue Qingbo's eyes brightened, and he squeezed her hands a little tighter. Gazing at her delicate profile, he couldn't help but lean closer to whisper in her ear, "What is it? After our reunion today, Fei can't bear to part again, hmm?"

In the past, Gu Fei would have happily answered yes, but now her heart was as still as water, a chill like shattered ice spreading in her chest. Yue Qingbo's tender words had no effect on her.

Her almond eyes shimmered with allure, like willow branches swaying in spring, but she simply said, "I'm just curious—why did Qingbo suddenly come to Yizhou?"

In truth, this was the question Gu Fei had wanted to ask all along. She did not believe Yue Qingbo had merely passed through Yizhou for leisure.

Yue Qingbo brushed aside a stray lock of her hair, and his gaze was caught by the black obsidian fox hairpin nestled in her bun. He examined it closely, answering her absentmindedly, "Fei, you attended the banquet at Longfeng Pavilion today, and you're considered a member of the Mo Chamber of Commerce. How could you not know that in September, there's a grand ceremony in Yizhou? I came for the ceremony."

Gu Fei raised an eyebrow, and as she moved, the obsidian fox hairpin glimmered, its fox eyes seeming to open—a delicate sight.

"Qingbo, weren't you always only interested in brush-making? As for ink, apart from grinding it for writing, when have you ever cared? Now you're attending the ink-making ceremony—how rare," Gu Fei joked, genuinely puzzled by Yue Qingbo's sudden interest in ink-making. There must be something suspicious at play.

Exposed, Yue Qingbo coughed lightly, a little helpless at her straightforwardness.

He withdrew his gaze from the hairpin and smiled at her. "Fei, you still know me so well."

Then he added, "It's Mo Geyi. He asked me to bring something for him."

Gu Fei felt a flicker in her heart, knowing it was wise not to press further. Though disappointment and coldness lingered towards Yue Qingbo, she still did not want to scheme against him.

If she were to use everyone and everything around her, with not a shred of warmth to cherish, she would become someone she never wished to be.

Without so much hatred and entanglement, what she truly wanted was simply to make ink—a simple yet extravagant longing.

"How are they...?" Her lashes trembled as she asked in a low mood.

Yue Qingbo sighed. "They're all well. Not long ago, Qingge was still talking about you, and Geyi sent people to search for you in the capital for quite some time."

Gu Fei sneered inwardly, but her face was pale, making her appear even more sorrowful. The stubbornness at her lips evoked deep sympathy.

"Fei," Yue Qingbo looked at her earnestly, "come back to the capital. You and your brother Mo Xuan—come back together, please?"

At the sudden mention of Mo Xuan, Gu Fei trembled, and then an irrepressible hatred surged across her brows—a desperate resolve, ready to burn everything to the ground.

"Fei!" Yue Qingbo called sharply, gripping her shoulders to make her look at him.

But Gu Fei screamed, clutching her head, hysterically crying, "Brother, brother... he's gone... he's gone... I can't find him... never again..."

Yue Qingbo was horrified, bewildered by Gu Fei's utter despair. What kind of plot and harm could make her lose control at the mere mention of a name?

"Fei, it's alright, it's alright." Yue Qingbo hugged her tightly, as if pouring all his strength into supporting her.

But Gu Fei, nestled in his arms, recovered almost instantly from the shock of her old scars being torn open. After all, when she first arrived at the Gu family, she couldn't get out of bed, spending her days recalling every torment the Mo family had inflicted upon her, as if chewing her own flesh—savoring the pain and the bitter taste of hatred, an addictive poison she could not resist.

Thus, when Yue Qingbo embraced her, she was already clear-headed, yet she continued to tremble in his arms, her words barely coherent. "There were so many... so many people who wanted to hurt my brother, tearing his clothes... Brother was unconscious all along... When I woke up, he was gone..."

She grabbed Yue Qingbo's lapel, lifting her face in pleading, "Qingbo, help me find my brother, won't you? He must have been hidden by them..."

This was the one thing she spoke sincerely.

On that nightmare day, Mo Qingge ordered people to violate Mo Xuan. She could not escape, then had her own leg flesh sliced away. When she awoke from pain, she never saw Mo Xuan again, not knowing whether he lived or died, or perhaps was still suffering unspeakable torment. Whenever she thought of this, Gu Fei burned with the urge to devour Mo Qingge's flesh and drink her blood.

The sages say: "A gentleman may be killed, but must not be humiliated." Yet Mo Qingge, in order to frame her, spared no cruelty.

Yue Qingbo, upon hearing Gu Fei's account, was struck dumb with disbelief. He stared at her, lips parted, and after a long pause, found his voice. "Them? Violate?"

Gu Fei lowered her head, extracting herself from his embrace. Her chest was chilled to the bone, and then a vast desolation descended upon her, enveloping her utterly. She was helpless, with no one she could trust to help her find Mo Xuan. Even now, she remained pale and powerless.

Even looking at Yue Qingbo now, impatience rose in her heart. She did not wish to see him again for a while.

She wheeled herself to the door. Light spilled through the crack, falling across her body in mottled shadows, making Yue Qingbo feel as if Gu Fei was a thousand miles away.

"Qingbo, I'm tired. I'll go back first," she said, facing the door with her back to him, her voice calm. After a moment, she added, "Also, my name is Gu Fei now. I'm the fifth daughter of the Gu family. Don't get it wrong."

Yue Qingbo's hand tightened on his knee, gripping his robe into visible creases. "The ancestral surname—how can you abandon it for another?"

His tone was full of stern reproach.

Gu Fei wore no expression. She slowly opened the door and said, "I don't want to talk anymore today. If you're staying in Yizhou for a while, we can speak another day."

As she spoke, the door opened, and the first thing she saw was You Hu leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed and lips curved in a smile. The white magnolia hairpin in his bun gleamed brightly.

"Miss, are you finished?" he asked, without a glance inside at Yue Qingbo, stepping forward to push the wheelchair. "I just went to the kitchen at Longfeng Pavilion and got you a sweet date and egg custard—have a bite to fill your stomach later."

Gu Fei rested her head against the wheelchair, responding with a faint, almost imperceptible sound, saying nothing more.

In the room, Yue Qingbo rose, watching Gu Fei's figure disappear. Whether intentionally or not, in that brief glance, he looked several times at the white magnolia hairpin in You Hu's bun.

He remembered seeing similar hairpins on other women's heads, but Gu Fei's obsidian fox hairpin—he had never seen any woman wear a fox motif. If it were a man's ornament, he thought, it would be more fitting.